<?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-4901382028177214661</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:53:35.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time After Time</title><subtitle type='html'>Time, A measure of interval between a sequence of different events

If You're Lost, You Can Look And You Will Find Me, Time After Time. If You Fall, I Will Catch You, I'll Be Waiting, Time After Time.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-6429885043377700606</id><published>2010-09-16T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T10:12:33.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>They say people always learn from past mistakes. Guess i must have learnt alot. Since i made so many of them in the past. I must be getting more mature then. I'm already 22 yet i'm still doing things I did 4 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an otaku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when i'm ready to write, nothing comes to mind?&lt;br /&gt;It's been very long since i last used this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to ruin my mood by thinking of negative things just for an entry to the blog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-6429885043377700606?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/6429885043377700606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/09/they-say-people-always-learn-from-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6429885043377700606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6429885043377700606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/09/they-say-people-always-learn-from-past.html' title=''/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-6507149735520459151</id><published>2010-05-22T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T11:12:39.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Training In Thailand</title><content type='html'>When the date was still far away, I was feeling very relaxed and was really not bothered about it at all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As tomorrow approaches, my anxiety grew, what if I underperformed and is deemed as a bum over there. I have such high expectations of myself that I get stressed out by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am not weak, I will take this stress and take this pressure and use it to empower myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this exercise, although I am not one of the main training troop, I will make a huge effort towards my personal training. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will keep a log book on the personal Physical Training, Intellectual Training and will keep a good record of my spending for the duration of the exercise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will practice frugality and buy the essential things and make an immense effort to control my diet as to achieve the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         - Reduce body mass by at least 2KG&lt;br /&gt;         - Improve tolerance of environmental high heat&lt;br /&gt;         - Improve physical fitness &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will work hard and attain the best result for the benefit of the training troops and the overall conduct of the exercise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will read more on the current affairs and enhance my Intellectual development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will read and appreciate the good literature with "The Shack" &amp; "A Thousand Splendid Suns"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I will enhance my personal discipline by maintaining a running schedule and a personal static workout sessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Attend life-runs, do push-ups, sit ups repetitions to improve muscle definition and improve physical stamina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these sounds like a tough time ahead for me but I will not give up and I will enlist the help of a soon-to-be acquaintance in order to succeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-6507149735520459151?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/6507149735520459151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/training-in-thailand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6507149735520459151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6507149735520459151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/training-in-thailand.html' title='Training In Thailand'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-7734110970307186387</id><published>2010-05-07T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T09:48:07.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Have a Little Faith" By Mitch Albom</title><content type='html'>"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half asleep even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're biasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About meaning of Life. Taken from Mitch Albom's Have a Little Faith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The trick is when things aren't so great, you don't junk the whole thing. It's okay to have an argument. It's okay that the other one nudges you a little, bothers you a little. It's part of being close to someone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About being in a relationship. Taken from Mitch Albom's Have a Little Faith&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-7734110970307186387?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/7734110970307186387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/have-little-faith-by-mitch-albom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7734110970307186387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7734110970307186387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/have-little-faith-by-mitch-albom.html' title='&quot;Have a Little Faith&quot; By Mitch Albom'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3881084181734515161</id><published>2010-05-07T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T09:41:18.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recollections 4</title><content type='html'>12/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a day out when everyone got things for their lovers, I came to the realization that I am alone again. After two years of companionship, I am alone again. I spoke of being driven and finding happiness again. But it seems when loneliness sets in, it seems to get harder and harder when you are missing someone you let go of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone you shouldn't miss anymore in a cold dry place where your only comfort is a plastic covered mattress and a sleeping bag. It seems like you're up against the world. But during the last two years, you have the support you wanted. But this time, you are all alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though people always say, "No Pain, No Gain", I can't see what I've gained from losing someone and experiencing the pain from it. For it just makes no sense anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3881084181734515161?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3881084181734515161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3881084181734515161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3881084181734515161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-4.html' title='Recollections 4'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-1046231880890240349</id><published>2010-05-07T09:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T09:36:28.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recollections 3</title><content type='html'>11/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it strange that when my friends go out to eat in a foreign land, they end up yearning for hometown food and even things that could be found at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-1046231880890240349?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/1046231880890240349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/1046231880890240349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/1046231880890240349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-3.html' title='Recollections 3'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-4342989349792855216</id><published>2010-05-07T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T09:34:43.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recollections 2</title><content type='html'>08/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I saw clouds that are really close to the ground. Like only 20m above ground. Now it feels like autumn with all the red leaves and drying grass. The cool wind blowing on my face really made me feel at peace and just plainly serene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it here. I love the weather here. I love the scenery here and plainly I think I might want to stay here and work here with this small town feeling and this small town joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly one thing stops me from staying here for good. This is not my home. I am a Singaporean and not an American. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see why people love to migrate away from Singapore. Perhaps it's because in the city that we have, we can never enjoy and appreciate the little things like the wind blowing through your hair. The hypnotic movement of the grass and trees in the wind, the drift of the clouds in the clear blue sky and just plainly enjoying the beauty of mother earth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-4342989349792855216?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/4342989349792855216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4342989349792855216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4342989349792855216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections-2.html' title='Recollections 2'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-6075771139856159985</id><published>2010-05-07T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T09:27:31.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recollections</title><content type='html'>08/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sunset here is beautiful. With the non-glaring sun, you'll be tempted to look right at it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there people who get blinded by the sun like this unknowingly? Just plainly enjoying the beauty of the setting sun the way I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I love working here in the great outdoors. I enjoyed myself too much in the scenery and it all.... This truly is a great place to just sit back listen to soft rock or classical music and just read the day away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just laze and enjoy nature the way it is.... though they say autumn is the beginning of the unforgivingly cold winter, I find the mixture of red and yellow with the cool weather extra enjoyable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-6075771139856159985?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/6075771139856159985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6075771139856159985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6075771139856159985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/05/recollections.html' title='Recollections'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3408072101824301355</id><published>2010-03-11T10:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T10:58:02.461-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time For Miracles?</title><content type='html'>It's late at night and I can't sleep, missing you just runs too deep. Oh I can't breathe just thinking of your smile. Every kiss I can't forget, this aching heart ain't broken yet. Oh god I wish I could make you see... cause I know this flame isn't dying, so nothing can stop me from trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby you know that, maybe it's time for miracles. Cause I ain't giving up on love. You know that. Maybe it's time for miracles. Cause I ain't giving up on love. No I ain't giving up on us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3408072101824301355?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3408072101824301355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/time-for-miracles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3408072101824301355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3408072101824301355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/time-for-miracles.html' title='Time For Miracles?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3943665680848549855</id><published>2010-03-04T22:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T22:36:12.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Stick</title><content type='html'>Since the start of the year, I've not been having the best of days. I returned to work on the 4th of January. I've worked overtime on so many occasions since then. I only left work early twice. Once for my medical appointment. On the same day, I lost my phone. Since the start of the year, it seems like whenever I have something good happens to me, something bad will happen as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today. I went to the medical center and although I managed to get an approved physical status for me to go to Brunei on exercise, I am going to be up PES to PES B. That will make things alot more troublesome for me after I ORD. Why does this have to occur when I am getting an early release by my superiors for only the 1st time since 8 or 9 months back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My year has really not gone well at all. Although I met and know some new friends, I lost contact with some as well with the lost of my phone. Why can't I just get a longer end of the stick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have to lose so much. When my entire existence yearn to win all the time. My mind is in a mess. With the impending increase in workload and the lack of appreciation and proper recognition for the effort I put in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example. The CNY 2010. How is it that I did all the planning and is involved in every aspect and still fail to get more off days than some who did only 1 task inefficiently for a long duration. It's just unfair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st is the promotion. Next is the inability to ever get promoted. Then is the lack of balance for off days. Now up PES to create more trouble for me. Damn it why is it that I can never have something that can leave me happy for days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really lack the element of happiness or joy in my life. For all my material possessions none can give me the happiness I desire. No amount of gaming, no amount of branded goods no amount of money can directly give me the happiness I really want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what I want I had it but lost it due to my own folly. Its wrong to want it back again I know that I have to move ahead and try with something else. But I can't because although there are some things about it I don't like, it does still have the things I want. Where else can I find something like this one with all the qualities I want but doesn't have the qualities I hate? I seek perfection as my mean of happiness. That's why I seem to be running on air. Putting in all these effort but just can't seem to get ahead. Can't seem to get nearer to happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stressed, Burn-out, Lonely, Disappointed, Frustrated and Fill With Anxiety. These are the feelings that engulfed me like flames. Burning the life out of me. Plainly and eventually instilling me with grief and depression. Someone just help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3943665680848549855?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3943665680848549855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/short-stick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3943665680848549855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3943665680848549855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/short-stick.html' title='Short Stick'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-5250700768095830174</id><published>2010-03-01T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T07:10:11.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Day Of The Month</title><content type='html'>It's just the start of the week and I'm just feeling so tired. Must be because of yesterday's night out with brendan, kat and elaine... Gosh... though I wasn't out for long... It sure as hell was tiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am getting old. My stamina is deteriorating and I don't seem to be improving after so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I really need to run more. More than what I am doing now. I am running about 2km once or twice a week. I guess I need to have more consistency and more discipline in keeping a diet plan and get into better shape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like the feeling of getting weaker and unfit. I am 22. I should be somewhere near my peak physical state. Not like the current slob that I am. Though I am not overweight, my muscle definition shames me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My distinct lack of discipline is hindering my attempts to reach my full potential and it is really frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you know that you yourself is at fault but you are not strong enough to overcome the laziness in you. The lethargic, ill-disciplined self that stops me from doing more personal training at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARRRGHH!! So annoyed with myself being so weak, useless and ill-disciplined. I'm so lack of control over myself it's unbearable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-5250700768095830174?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/5250700768095830174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/1st-day-of-month.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5250700768095830174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5250700768095830174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2010/03/1st-day-of-month.html' title='1st Day Of The Month'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-893308575008142923</id><published>2009-12-20T09:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T10:28:49.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe....Cleared Up....Damn Long Time Coming</title><content type='html'>Blog titles being too lame and emo and bitchy is one thing. Feeling lonely and horrible about yourself is a complete other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been sad and lonely and feeling horrible about all that has happened for a while. I am a person very much obsessed with 2 things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how it comes to this. I guess I've thought through and I just have to be honest with myself and one way of being honest to myself is by writing down what I actually think. Before some weird thing get into my head and messed up my thoughts and what I really mean again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I won't know what is my true honest self is by then right? Right. No one to answer my question down here. Just me and myself. Hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love America. (Honest fact)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to those 2 points. If my ex is reading this, I just want to let her know I'm really sorry. I've been blaming you for our breakup. Blaming you for your lack of foresight and your bad decision and your stupidity and it all. I think I didn't blame on is the real culprit. Myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at fault for our breakup based on the 1st point. I was never satisfied in our relationship. Because everything to me has to be perfect. And in life nothing much is. I just can't accept it and I just force things out. I made you do things that weren't you and made you suffer and try to change you just so I can feel better. Just so I can have something that is nearer to perfection in my relationship with you. By doing that, I am selfish. I am a jerk. I try to change you and plainly, that's just wrong. I expected too much out of you and I am sorry. It's always my opinions and my words that caused you so much pain and caused you to shed all those tears. Though I never did see so much of them but I believe you when you said you cried a lot. Cause it is saddening. It has troubled me for more than 2 months since. Until about 30 minutes ago. In our entire relationship, none of us were really happy. I'm not happy because I am constantly looking for perfection and I can't get it no matter how hard I try or how hard I make you try. You were never happy because I made you unhappy. I am sorry for that. I think you know this fact long ago. That's why you got over me quicker than I got over you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to be a perfect boyfriend. In terms of contribution and effort towards you that is. I tried to be the most caring and give you the most attention in the world. Perhaps by being like that is being sticky. And of course being too sticky in a relationship is a bad thing. It adds stress, discomfort and a lack of freedom and independence. And of course having thought that I contribute and sacrificed a lot both in financial and emotional terms, I expected a return based on what has been contributed. Not the financial terms of course. I don't want any money from you as you know. And ya. I didn't really give you much freedom and I didn't like the idea of privacy between us. Which of course is damn wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having to be attached with me bearing with me and having to be forced to go through that nonsense must be really hard on you. So once again, I'm raising my hand up and admitting that I am sorry I'm such a bastard boyfriend.... Thinking back.... Wow you must have loved me a lot for you to go through those things I put you through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well....they always say, admitting your mistake is a 1st step towards correcting oneself. And I do want to correct myself and get over my mistake and this failed relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're right. I don't actually want you to be my girlfriend because I love you, I wanted to have someone to care for and to actually show the world I'm capable of doing that. I wanted to be responsible for someone and of course feel wanted by someone else other than my blood kin who don't really have a choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-893308575008142923?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/893308575008142923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/maybecleared-updamn-long-time-coming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/893308575008142923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/893308575008142923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/maybecleared-updamn-long-time-coming.html' title='Maybe....Cleared Up....Damn Long Time Coming'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-2190725135681146735</id><published>2009-12-14T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T11:32:16.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ucontrollable Monster Within</title><content type='html'>There's this thing in me. It tearing me apart. From the inside. I loathe it. I want to get rid of it. I want to kill and annihilate it completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wretched thing I'm talking about, is my heart's feelings. How I feel towards everything that has happened, feelings towards my inadequacies, feelings towards what I've lost, feelings of internal conflicts between my own decisions. The confusion, the mess, the utter screw-up which I have become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't find entertainment in anything anymore. Everything just seem so mundane. I wake up everyday having nothing in my life to look forward to anymore. The food no matter how great doesn't taste like anything of its grandeur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like whenever I know about anything related to this issue, it messes up my brain. I get thoughts, I get utterly mundane, useless and unrealistic thoughts. I wished for the impossible and gathered hopes for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I did those things made me feel even worse. I can decide on what I want anymore. I am in conflict with myself. One moment I want this, the next moment I want something completely opposite. You definitely know what I'm talking about. You're the one that complained about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true. This sort of mess that my heart lead me in is taking me further and further away from the enjoyment of being on leave. Away from work, not having to worry about anything associated with work till I get back next year. But this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wretch is killing me and draining me faster than anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-2190725135681146735?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/2190725135681146735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/clock-doesnt-stop-but-i-just-dont-heal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2190725135681146735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2190725135681146735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/clock-doesnt-stop-but-i-just-dont-heal.html' title='The Ucontrollable Monster Within'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-8116346763773102607</id><published>2009-12-05T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T09:48:22.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Messed Up Afterall</title><content type='html'>Just still messed up over it. It's been so long and I'm still so messed up. I feel like a train wreck everyday. Just nothing is alright in all these. I don't know how long can I contain this. I don't even know how to handle this. I don't even know how to talk to anyone about this. But it's just so messed up. No one knows the full details except me but I'm just unable to share it with anyone else but I don't know how to get through this and get past this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want this messed up feeling anymore. But I can't lose it and I don't even know how to start to lose it. By taking things step by step. By googling it? Maybe that will help. Since google has the answer to every f*ckshit thing in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-8116346763773102607?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/8116346763773102607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/messed-up-afterall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/8116346763773102607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/8116346763773102607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/messed-up-afterall.html' title='Messed Up Afterall'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-2016265723170774766</id><published>2009-12-02T04:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T04:50:54.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return The Past M Art History</title><content type='html'>I came back from U.S hoping that everything will be better when I return. Everything will feel better when I return. And that I will be happy truly once again when I'm back but I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought I will be right. In arguments, in questions, in doubt. I've always thought I'm right, I'm correct and will not and never did make a mistake. I've always have confidence in my answers and my decisions. But confidence alone is never enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit. For a period of time, I felt better and at peace while I'm in U.S. There are some things that did trigger some negativity again while I'm there. I guess in time to come, I will put everything down in my blog again. I haven't been active in blogging. Guess I'm still myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a very private person. I don't share a lot of things with anyone. Not even my family. No one is allowed to know me. Well, no one but one. I did let someone close. Closer than anyone will ever get again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a private person, the last thing I want is something I don't want to talk about, becoming a joke or a random unthoughtful comment  from a friend. It will trip my anger switch. The switch I want to keep turned off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not get into the national team for a particular martial art easily. I certainly got out much more easily as compared with the entry. I got out the quickest way possible. By taking a break due to injury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that martial art, I must admit. I can do much better. I didn't put in 100% of my effort. But I did put in more effort than my peers who joined with me. I am a competitive person. I hate defeat or losing. I can't lose to anyone. I must always be superior. Be better and be victorious. I simply can't lose. That is what drives me. What makes me feel alive, the winning sensation is a high for me. A miracle drug, something that can numb my pain and make the injuries seem like they've gone away. Though obviously that was not the case. The pain might be numb but the tears and cracks will always remain. The damage accumulates and the pain just get harder and harder to hidden away. Through the countless overdosage of pain-killers and sedatives, I push on. Till it tears, got twisted and crumbles to the ground. Till it destroys my ambitions and just grinds my progress to a screeching halt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside it hurts as much as the injury itself. Having to put things to a halt and just let everything drain away till it's good enough to begin again. I can't just sit still and let my body go to waste completely. I just can't. If I am to reach where I have been again, I can't let the pain stop me. I have to go beyond the limits. The joint is still in pain. But the damage is still not permanent. I can still push it. The one thing that is stopping me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear. Fear of breaking it completely and go on with my life handicapped. Fear of the extreme pain that was felt. Already the pain inside has been impossible to bear, if it restarts with the superficial pain, will I be able to still contain it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find the answer. I want to find my mental training handbook again...but it seems like I left it behind...with the generation of the future....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I go back? I thought of it. I yearn for it. But is it a hazardous step towards permanent disability or a way to get my high back. Get my adrenaline pumping again. Get my fighting spirit back and curb my urge of hurting anyone and anything I see. Unleash my violence as I wish and not having to hold them back like a caged beast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be free again. Be free of this madness that has consumed me. This monster that has me as it's form of apparition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-2016265723170774766?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/2016265723170774766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/return-past-m-art-history.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2016265723170774766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2016265723170774766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/12/return-past-m-art-history.html' title='The Return The Past M Art History'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-183811284774654291</id><published>2009-10-26T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T07:25:01.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in T!m3.</title><content type='html'>I am stuck in ****. I don't really know how to move forward and away. I've tried distracting myself by focusing more on insignificant things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It only made me realize I don't give a sh*t about material things. They don't make me happy, anything material that I've ever wanted couldn't make me a happier person. What will satisfy me then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked hard till there's nothing else to do anything more. I've given my best to excel in the work, tried my best to complete the work given to me on time. Did my best and simply gave everything. All of it came to a naught. Do I feel bitter? do I have the right to feel that way? after he rubbed it in my face again. I don't think anyone of us is inferior to him. I don't think so at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I lost. I've lost the most important thing to me and simply it affected me deeply. I really feel very lost and I don't really have a direction in my life anymore. After all, all I ever wanted is just to be with the person I care for happily. I don't give a sh*t about material wealth. The reason why I wanted power is just to be good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I just want to feel important. I want to be wanted, I want to be loved, relied on and have the ability to support people that mattered to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't move. Even when an impending major event is coming up, I can't feel a thing. I'm not stressed, I'm not excited, I'm not thrilled to have an opportunity to be in U.S when everyone else go to brunei and thailand. I'm just numb. I lost my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rather be more machine-like. I want to be that machine I was again. Working as if nothing will ever get to me. To be that relentless person and have that drive again. Driving ahead without stopping for anyone anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all I know, I am still stuck in **** and till the day I become unstuck, I will forever be numb to everything in the world, wishing my live can just fast forward all the way till I cease to exist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-183811284774654291?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/183811284774654291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/stuck-in-tm3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/183811284774654291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/183811284774654291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/stuck-in-tm3.html' title='Stuck in T!m3.'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-7888485123685714056</id><published>2009-10-14T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T10:05:21.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P is for Pretend</title><content type='html'>Am I pretending to do something I'm not. Am I a pretender in the act?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say, time heal all wounds. Have my wounds healed so quickly or did I just leave them lying around but gotten used to the pain so much so that I live with it and can even move on with pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it has something to do with carrying injury for the past 4 years? Gotten used to pain be it inside or out. Is it really such a good thing? When there's no longer pain, there's no sense of danger and when that happen, one will not know when to be careful and one might just die without knowing danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has that happened to me? I use to just fight through the pain. Like when my knees are giving way and they are aching, I throw it to the back of my head by just telling myself, "the worse thing that can happen is death and death itself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I been pretending to be happy again? or am I truly happy and truly able to get on with my life. Or am I just too used to the pain that I regard it as feeling normal. Do I still have the deep wound or has it already healed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm filled to the brim with self-doubt and dilemma. Do I know what I'm doing? Am I actually doing anything? Should I do anything? So what if I get any advise from anywhere, will I actually listen? For no one else in the world is me. Only I should know how I should feel completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one will know how I feel. The closest you can get is to have a similar feeling on a different magnitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ok???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-7888485123685714056?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/7888485123685714056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/p-is-for-pretend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7888485123685714056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7888485123685714056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/p-is-for-pretend.html' title='P is for Pretend'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-8329415845868219355</id><published>2009-10-05T06:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T07:15:36.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Happened And I Just Can't Stop It</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I last posted anything on my blog. It's not because I have nothing to say, or I have a person to talk to but it's just I don't really want to think about what happened. Yes it's that horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost something. Something that I hold dearly in my heart. That something is actually someone. Someone I love deeply. Yes I really love her deeply. I dare to admit it to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She meant the world to me. I didn't manage to cherish her when we were still in love with each other. Now... all I can do is lament on my lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so painful. My heart felt like it bleed and lost all the blood in my entire body. I didn't know how to stop the bleeding. Can anyone help me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want someone new. Even she say I deserve someone better. She didn't give me all that I wanted. She did try however. While I didn't really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for making you lose your love for me. I didn't deserve you. You are really the greatest person I've ever known. I've been fortunate to have been able to get you to love me. Love a person like me. And I've been fortunate for you to give me your everything too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really. Thank You my Ex-girlfriend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-8329415845868219355?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/8329415845868219355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-happened-and-i-just-cant-stop-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/8329415845868219355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/8329415845868219355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-happened-and-i-just-cant-stop-it.html' title='Things Happened And I Just Can&apos;t Stop It'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-4139340127782548713</id><published>2009-09-14T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T09:55:25.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust Or The Lack Of It</title><content type='html'>When I trust, which I don't do often, I really just hope it's warranted. It's supposed to be after all. When the person I trust is someone who I think really deserves it. After all, if I don't trust you, who would?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had a bad record. I was pretty reluctant about trusting you but still I did. But you failed me on the 2nd attempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I don't really want to know the reason or whatever the excuse you want to give, I want you to make it up. You screwed up, you clean up. Simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think making me wait for nothing is fun, wait till you see what I'll do to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-4139340127782548713?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/4139340127782548713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/09/trust-or-lack-of-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4139340127782548713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4139340127782548713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/09/trust-or-lack-of-it.html' title='Trust Or The Lack Of It'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-5574952008197935878</id><published>2009-09-10T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T09:20:07.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post War, Pre Separation, Forget, Improve</title><content type='html'>The war between us is over, the conclusion is harmony, peace love and good old harmony. It seems like I lost more than what I gain from this battle. This random rage of war from you. I didn't see it coming and it totally took me by surprise. It shook us right down to the very core of what we stood for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this major conflict, the damage must be repaired. I have to do it. No one else can. After all, I did cause the most damage with my actions and temperament. We gave each other a chance, sort of something like a peace treaty. If anyone of us breaks it, It's gonna be a nuclear winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized my feelings for you is like yours for me. It waned, it must have been the heartache and through all the arguments we had against each other that caused this to happen. I left like something inside me is lost. Dead, missing and just plainly lost some love for you. As sad as it is, you lost even more of it. So I'm just left with a one-sided love. Well...what's left for me hurts, all I have is hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During these few days while we spent time together I really feel happy.... I hope you did too. I treat you as well as I really could. I want us to be able to have some happy time together before you leave and I'm glad we did. No more arguments. No more disagreements anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must improve. We must get better. We must&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-5574952008197935878?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/5574952008197935878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/09/post-war-pre-separation-forget-improve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5574952008197935878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5574952008197935878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/09/post-war-pre-separation-forget-improve.html' title='Post War, Pre Separation, Forget, Improve'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-1468412290482531501</id><published>2009-08-29T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T21:31:04.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Matters? I'm Confused</title><content type='html'>I don't know what I want from anything anymore. I just feel so lost and in so much pain. Not physically but deep inside I'm in so much pain. It seems like I lost you. But I don't know if I really want you back or not. What you hid from me for so long shocked me. I can't accept my things getting tainted by anything in the world. I yearn to know what happened completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much pain I have to put you through, I need to know. Even if it ends here, I have to know, I know i said I'll give you time to tell me but my impatience is killing me. The mystery, the entire thought of it is just completely killing me. I really wish i'm dead. Just so I won't be able to experience this pain. I don't know if I really do want you anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't accept it. Why can't I rewind time? To about 20 years back and just relive my life completely. I want to start anew, in out lives completely. I want a difference in the way we are. I want to be with you since the start of your life. Like totally rewind back 19 years and I'll be there for you since... I want to be able to rewrite your history, our history and just prevent anything that I don't want from ever happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I play god?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-1468412290482531501?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/1468412290482531501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-matters-im-confused.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/1468412290482531501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/1468412290482531501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-matters-im-confused.html' title='What Matters? I&apos;m Confused'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-5295958548793642690</id><published>2009-08-18T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T06:16:24.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Nearly Lost My Phone. Left it in a cab and have to waste time getting it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost the chance to go US for a month&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffered a lot of pain in the hospital&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost motivation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent a lot of money on Cabs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fail in attempted starvation diet....Will start trying tomorrow onwards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liquid Diet Shall Start Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have To Run At Least 2.4Km tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-5295958548793642690?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/5295958548793642690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/bad-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5295958548793642690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5295958548793642690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/bad-day.html' title='A Bad Day'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3297964734343438049</id><published>2009-08-17T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T08:48:52.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Feel It</title><content type='html'>My training is over and I'm supposed to be happy to be back...But somehow, I don't feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to feel like resting....But I don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's going on anymore. I can't go on feeling like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get my confidence back. The belief that I am not a loser. The belief that I am good. I am efficient. I am important and powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Want to work hard. I need to train hard. I need to show the world my abilities, my capabilities and what I can do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3297964734343438049?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3297964734343438049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-feel-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3297964734343438049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3297964734343438049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-feel-it.html' title='I Don&apos;t Feel It'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-7129654276072315899</id><published>2009-08-16T03:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T03:13:59.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future And The Unknown</title><content type='html'>I don't really know what I really want anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm just too tired to care anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But inside me it just feels the yearning for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get it....What is stopping me from reaching you? Is it myself? If so why do I stop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read on your profile on your website. Something. Ridiculous, out of fun and yet it bothered me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really shouldn't and yet it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just another sign to show that "Maybe We're Not Meant To Be"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's like one step forwards and two steps back..." - Theory of a Deadman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope tomorrow I'll be feeling better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-7129654276072315899?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/7129654276072315899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/future-and-unknown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7129654276072315899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7129654276072315899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/future-and-unknown.html' title='The Future And The Unknown'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3122202244005256633</id><published>2009-08-10T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T00:30:37.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Should</title><content type='html'>I want to know when you're not well, not feeling well, unhappy and in sadness. I want to know what's going on. That's all that I'm asking from you when I can't be around physically. Just to be able to know what's going on....Not miss a beat, not feeling left out and not feeling like I'm not around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share with you my everything, my life and every part of it...You really should just do the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3122202244005256633?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3122202244005256633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/really-should.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3122202244005256633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3122202244005256633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/08/really-should.html' title='Really Should'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-7955315754684245243</id><published>2009-07-25T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T23:09:39.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired By Morrie</title><content type='html'>Doing guard duty has a benefit. It made me stay in camp and allowed me to just read. Read and not get distracted....no tv, no computer no nothing disturbing me. Mmmm might not be such a bad thing after all....though I'll rather be at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday With Morrie. I guess during the 4 hours I spent reading carefully word by word, I managed to learn something from this extraordinary man. The determination and strength and courage of this man just shocks me. Will I be able to embrace death the way he did? I don't think so. I can't even face aging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He preaches about love and teaches his favourite student in the face of his own death. Amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-7955315754684245243?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/7955315754684245243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/inspired-by-morrie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7955315754684245243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7955315754684245243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/inspired-by-morrie.html' title='Inspired By Morrie'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3516355631275619885</id><published>2009-07-22T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T05:35:06.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Has Been A While....Wish Something Changed Though</title><content type='html'>A lot of things happened since my last post. Apparently for now, my blog can only be updated when I'm around at home....Which isn't really often anymore. 1 More month till I get back to Khatib Camp. Haiz....And yet my friends there said Stagmont is a holiday camp. Bullshit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw some of my friends from brunei last weekend. Over the span of the entire weekend was not at home for most of the time. Went out a lot and spent a lot of money on the way. Had quite an enjoyable week....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me...I've tried. What you're trying to do is to make me quit using the cold turkey treatment. You are being very unreasonable. Please think in my position. I know what I did is not fair to you. But what you're trying to stop me from doing is something from the deepest core of me. It is natural for me. You're trying to take my nature out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You even went as far to say you'll despise me if I continue. Between us. Us what we have and everything that we're done and been through, I can't believe you said you'll despise me for what's normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand from you're point of view. Your principles and values and it all. I respect you and it all and I don't blame you for thinking that I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's just the reason why things are so complicated. I feel that both of us have a point but you on the other hand just think that I'm wrong and I don't have a point and you're 100% right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's where I say.... You don't compromise as agreed. Haiz....Wish I have someone who is willing to talk to me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really feel like I have no proper and understanding friends to talk to&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3516355631275619885?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3516355631275619885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-has-been-whilewish-something-changed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3516355631275619885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3516355631275619885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-has-been-whilewish-something-changed.html' title='It Has Been A While....Wish Something Changed Though'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-2318835399550575489</id><published>2009-07-05T05:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T05:10:52.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When You're Gone</title><content type='html'>Gone are the days where I enjoyed the bliss of staying out. Gone are the days where I book into camp on monday morning. And yet when I book in on monday morning, I still complained that it's too early to wake up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My goodness, how I wish I can stay out again and just enjoy my weeknights even if it's at home. Gosh....having to go back to camp in an hour's time sucks. It really does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I really wanted to try hard to win the best soldier award. But with regimentation back in play, I just kinda don't feel like working anymore. I lost my drive when I have to march to the cookhouse. It gets worse when I have to fall in for simply everything and live in fear of warrants, specialists and officers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Gosh I can't believe I'm saying this, but staying in AI is far better than anything. I promise when I get back, I'm gonna work 7 times harder than before and be 7 times more capable than what I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My task at hand now are:&lt;br /&gt; 1.) To completely understand, learn and do well for all the subjects and modules taught during my course.&lt;br /&gt; 2.) To lose weight and gain physical fitness even at the expense of aggravating my current injuries&lt;br /&gt; 3.) To try to get the best trainee award, for honor and glory!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-2318835399550575489?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/2318835399550575489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-youre-gone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2318835399550575489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/2318835399550575489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-youre-gone.html' title='When You&apos;re Gone'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-6577282615656846582</id><published>2009-06-27T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T13:00:34.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If Only</title><content type='html'>It's damn late now but can't seem to sleep. So decide to just take out my journal and just write some trash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God damn it's boring. For when you don't really treasure something and you lose it you'll definitely feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't use to treasure the times we talked. And now that I can't do that freely anymore, it just makes everything feels like shit. Thought of going out with some mates and just have a fun day out watching a movie. Thoroughly enjoyed it and made me forget about all my worries and everything for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the movie earlier in the day, in fact with the 1st 3 hours of my day, some fat chick called and said that I'm an unreliable bastard for not meeting them for their lunch appointment that I've agreed to. Well Big News FC! You Freaking Didn't Even Confirm Any Shit With Me! If there are no news means I'm not going to appear. If not for the navy chick, I wouldn't want to see you in the 1st place for god's sake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I totally messed up another appointment. I was supposed to go see a chinese physician for some expensive medication for my leg. But totally overslept and in the end just canceled it by giving some shit excuse that I don't think the receptionist care about. Guess my leg's going to feel a whole lot worse this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just I see no point in going to that expensive doctor when you're not there. My original purpose of going there is just to accompany you. If you're too dense to realise that I'm putting it straight to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent half my day rotting my shit ass off at home, playing NBA 2K9 for like 2 hours. And watched my Korean drama on some alcohol website or something. Thanks for the link my good friend! Though I haven't heard from her in a while. Explored her blog a tiny bit to know about her recent behavior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out to your aunt's place and ran your errand for you. Didn't fix your printer yet, though I really want to, it just totally skipped my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out shopping at orchard thereafter, bought an old fogey type of shorts for $129. Go figure the brand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched transformers 2 enjoyed it was in high spirits till I saw a freaking ugly old CRT brought home from my cousin. Already pissed off by the presence of my old CRT and trying to replace it and now another old CRT, and it's unwanted stuff. Am I living in a garbage dump or are you guys trash collector! Totally ruin my mood got pissed off and just went up and kill and shoot tons of plp on TF. Guess you guys are giving me another reason to not stay downstairs and watch tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For god's sake just throw away the damn thing. Cous, Thanks but no thanks. If Only I can make all the decisions for my household. If Only I have my own house and I can choose who I want to live with.....God! If Only....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-6577282615656846582?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/6577282615656846582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/if-only.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6577282615656846582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6577282615656846582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/if-only.html' title='If Only'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-5145251412751482406</id><published>2009-06-17T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T11:28:05.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forward &amp; Never Back</title><content type='html'>I've always have this habit. Always move forward and never turn back and walk the same way as I came from even if I headed into the wrong direction. I'll most probably go and walk a loop to get back to the turning point instead of retracing my steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's just the kind of person I am. I am not one to look back on things be it good or bad. I live for the future and the present but never laments the past. I do take things out from the past. I do that to affect and change my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after making a mistake, I'll not turn back, I'll just make sure I don't head down the same wrong path again. Looking and moving forward, away from the place where I made the mistake and just simply move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, all I'm looking forward to, in the immediate future is to have my version of a good day ahead. A happy day where everything I wanted happened and I'm just able to feel the joy of being alive and kicking and feel the joy of getting well deserved rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually wanted to see the closing ceremony of the course. I think I deserve to be in a part of the course closing. After all, I did play a part in it. I am a part of it and I enjoyed it. Be it the late hours, the manual labor or the coordination, I simply love to be part of any huge projrct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than a lovely day tomorrow, I'm also looking foward to SI. I need to be part of the course. And for me and my 2 other friends who are going to US together, It is a must to attend the course this time around.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As fatigue fills my body and my eyes lost their focus, I shall end this post with an advise to all....Look forward to the future and never back to the past that is to be forgotten&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-5145251412751482406?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/5145251412751482406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/forward-never-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5145251412751482406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/5145251412751482406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/forward-never-back.html' title='Forward &amp; Never Back'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3805190980611323189</id><published>2009-06-09T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:57:22.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A Long Time....</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I last wrote anything on my blog... I began to wonder why I had this blog. Even if I have alot of things on my mind, thinking that I have to note it down just so people can read and just make me feel embarassed just make me feel hesitant about writing anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of things have happened since my last entry. Actually in my previous few entries, I didn't even try hard to record anything down. It seems like sometimes I'm writing without using any effort. My last few entries are really hard to read, even me myself, when I try to read it, I''ll just close my internet explorer in disgust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now then, after expressing my regrets for writing some trash for the past few entries, I will disclose the related information to why I am making another post today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a very strange way to start a day. I woke up and I felt so betrayed and pissed off. I've not felt this way for ages. Not when I just woke up at all. Normally, whenever I just wake up, all I can feel is lethargic, all I wanted is to get back to bed. But today due to a message I received late the previous night, I felt so angry and violent, I feel like tearing everyone in the world apart. I started the morning by swearing. Swearing for forgetting to take my phone from my room on the 3rd floor. Then swore again for no apparent reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to take this opportunity to apologise to my mum for snapping at her this morning and using vulgarities in her presence. I will never use it on her however, I truely regret using it in her presence. If I am to be a well mannered person, this is not to occur again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now then. Back to this morning. After I left my house, the 1st thing I realised on the way to the train station, is that I've forgotten to bring my mobile phone and I didn't even turned it on. I was thinking of going back to get it, but was turned off by the idea by a certain message within the confines of my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems my anger didn't go away, even after seeing the lovely early sunrise and the tranquility of the early woodlands morning. All I have in my mind is to tear people apart limb by limb and just puncturing their faces and making them bleed with my own 2 hands. The worse is, in my mind other than all the passer-bys, I've thoughts of attacking even my friends and family. At that moment, all I can feel is rage. All I can see on the street are people with bloodied faces, all I want to do is to kill as many people as I could and just dominate everything in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realise I am a danger to everything including myself. I've thoughts of taking an extra dose of my super strong painkillers and just attack everyone who opposes me. Anything that gets in my way and simply anyone who don't support me. I really wanted to calm myself down, I wanted to enjoy the morning air, the cool breeze on my face and the just have a relaxed stroll to the train station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can conjure up with is almost endless perspiration, I feel the rage within me. I can come up with nothing more than a stare at anything. I can't see anything clearly, my mind is in a blur, avenged sevenfold is blasting at its max volume into my ear. After I nearly tripped on an overhead bridge, all I felt like doing is to punch tear the nearest lampost into pieces. I feel like punching it so hard till my hand breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when I get into the train, all I can think of is how useless the other commuters are....how weak their bodies are, to not be able to stand while in a train. How disgusting China foreign workers are. How sickening their Indian counterparts are. I despise all these foreign inputs from the last ten years. They are dirtying the Singaporean blood, the Singapore air and disturbing the peace with their large numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, onboard the train, I realise all my negative thoughts must be stopped. I need to focus. I wanted to just tell my friends at work that I'm not feeling well just so I can get some time alone before I start snapping and turning violent on them for the slightest reason. But I didn't. I wanted to work. I wanted to work all the way deep into the night sacrificing all the time I have to stay and work. Just so I can take my mind off things. I don't want to think about what you said. I don't want to care about what you thought. I'm just tired of being the savior time and again for something you want to kill off. Actually I don't know if I want to save it again this time. It seems like it's been a waste of my time. For it's been a long time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3805190980611323189?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3805190980611323189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-been-long-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3805190980611323189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3805190980611323189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-been-long-time.html' title='It&apos;s Been A Long Time....'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-4142544357001873810</id><published>2009-05-28T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T04:32:14.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weird, The Strange &amp; The Different</title><content type='html'>I sorta think differently from other people. The me today will think differently from the me from yesterday. The way I feel about things also keep changing very quickly. Is there anything wrong with me I wonder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I argue and curse people for fun. I say bad things at people to feel good. I strive to be no. 1 so that I can stand on the highest point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to stand on the highest point so I will be able to see everything around and below me. To prevent anyone from attacking me from behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wary of my surroundings. I have friends, but can I rely on them? I almost trust no 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-4142544357001873810?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/4142544357001873810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/weird-strange-different.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4142544357001873810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4142544357001873810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/weird-strange-different.html' title='The Weird, The Strange &amp; The Different'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-711483371647028776</id><published>2009-05-27T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T05:31:59.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullshido!</title><content type='html'>Today I finally get to stop being freaking busy. Over the past few weeks all I can feel is the large stack of work against my back. Finally I've managed to clear everything and manage to take the load off my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a week of recording my spending, I realise a very very common trend. I take cabs everyday. Each ride cost me from 7 dollars all the way to 18 dollars. I take more than 10 cabs over the past week. Which goes to show I spent over 200 dollars on transport alone. Yesterday my spending for the day is more than 100 dollars. With 60 dollars going into 4 taxi trips. Amazing how lazy I've become and how high the cost is for me to be lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realised, after recording my food intake, that I drank on average 3 cups of Milo daily. Isit a good thing or a bad thing? That I can't be certain. All that I know is I'm still not losing weight. I'm still not getting all the exercise I can get. And I most definitely still lack the determination to start a very efficient diet. No matter how much my heart wants it, my mind just seems to take me off track&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-711483371647028776?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/711483371647028776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/bullshido.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/711483371647028776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/711483371647028776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/bullshido.html' title='Bullshido!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3361983663995828550</id><published>2009-05-24T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T09:23:54.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Fat's a Bitch</title><content type='html'>I am gaining weight and I hate it. I depise myself for my weight gain. It disgust me that I am getting more and more unfit. With my lack of exercises and regular food intake, I am indeed gaining weight and losing my muscle density.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have to have more determination in order to lose weight and get fit again. I gave up too easily when I started to feel pain. I really have to push my pain threshold up another level in order to suceed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaining weight is so easy yet losing it is just so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than gaining weight, my expenditure is on the rise as well. I have to learn to be more thrifty and not spend so much money. Being thrifty is a virtue while being stingy is undesirable. Therefore, the level of thriftiness must not reach the level of being stingy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to have such control, records of each item must be made and updated regularly so as to document the changes accordingly. A well designed plan must also be conceived in order to have the desired effect on each item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, very high importance will be on item 1 : Operation I Like To Keep Fit. While item 2: Operation Save More Money, will also be taken very seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM INDEED A VERY BORING PERSON. Must stop writing in report format.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3361983663995828550?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3361983663995828550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/being-fats-bitch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3361983663995828550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3361983663995828550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/being-fats-bitch.html' title='Being Fat&apos;s a Bitch'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-6239103274970922988</id><published>2009-05-20T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T04:06:00.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Like To Keep Fit</title><content type='html'>What a day. I guess today seriously is pretty unlucky. Realising my friday's nightlife will be spent infront of a tv with a stranger certainly doesn't sound like much fun. Even with the abundance of night snacks available is also a major turn-off. Just hope on saturday the next person is on time....Well at least he has a good track record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly got into a car accident. Thank goodness for his fast reaction. I guess if there have been an accident at my workplace, things will get quite messy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess being emo about something trival is kinda of a huge bitch. Especially if you bitch it down in your blog, it's even worse than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case anyone is wondering, everything between me and her is fine. I have a tendency to think too much of nothing and come to several conclusions without actual evidence on my theories. About 90% of the time, everything turns out fine. SO IN CONCLUSION, MY GIRLFRIEND IS NOT LEAVING ME NOR AM I LEAVING HER!. Damn retarded. I can't believe I have to explain my previous 2 posts this way. When you're emo, you tend to write alot and think even more! so be understanding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting fat!. Tomorrow onwards, I'm going to exercise regularly, till my leg breaks I won't stop. I simply hate the feeling of being so weak and flabby and as time goes by, my physical condition is just getting worse. If I intend to go back to regular training and get back into the national team, I definitely need to get myself back in shape and improve my body condition. In terms of injury wise, I noticed the swelling on my right ankle is diminishing, the pain in my left knee is going into the more subtle mode. Which means I can run without feeling pain until the running ends and I can walk and climb stairs with almost no pain. However squatting and getting up still causes quite alot of pain. May have to consult another specialist soon. To get insoles for flat foot to make my physical training more productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually intended to run on monday. I've even brought my favourite pair of running shoes as a motivation. However, being unacceptably 15mins late just turns everything off. I promise I will not make that an excuse to not exercise again. Even if I have to be a loner and do it alone. I will do it. All for the sake of I Like To Keep Fit!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-6239103274970922988?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/6239103274970922988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-like-to-keep-fit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6239103274970922988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/6239103274970922988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-like-to-keep-fit.html' title='I Like To Keep Fit'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-7385442014970526020</id><published>2009-05-05T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T11:12:26.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Direction &amp; Heading</title><content type='html'>Woke up today with a queer feeling in my heart. Like I've lost something. Like something changed but I can't seem to tell what. Like something was taken from me without my knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I woke up at 1pm. Maybe it's because half of my off day is taken by sleep. Maybe I'm overtaken by the disorientation suffered from my oversleep. Just maybe my heart and my mind is getting prepared for a proper wake up call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasted my day facing my computer playing a game I shouldn't be playing. Using something I shouldn't own and just wasting my time the way I shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late at night right now and I just can't seem to sleep. After a conversation like that, will I be able to sleep tonight in peace? When my efforts to be the 1st just suddenly become so wrong. When a desire to be the closest and the most important is deemed so misguided and unjust. When all I've ever worked for seem to be just for naught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I feeling pain in my heart or is it a sense of lost and emptiness. Have I lost my sense of direction? Or is it just that I don't know what I should do anymore. Should I stay or should I just quietly disappear and fade away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not what I want. You put that message to me straight and simple. Maybe I knew it all along. What I want right now is not what you can provide. I'm just squeezing you dry for something that I yearn for. Something as close to what I want as possible. Just to satisfy myself and make me go on. Go on with this wait. This wait for you to finally provide me with what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I really have patience for this 7 year long wait? Frankly I have no idea what's with my desire with the finishing line. The end of romance. The stability, the security, the peace and the eternity, getting a grasp on you and not letting go. Maybe you're just too good. So good that I know I'll be a fool to lose you. That's probably why I want to cage you in. Hold you down and just tie you to me. And frankly it's just plain wrong but all I know is I want you to be mine. I don't deserve you. I'm most probably a low life piece of scum that doesn't deserve anything good in my life. I don't deserve the lap of luxury that I'm living in. I don't even appreciate what the higher beings bestow to me. My family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jealousy, Arrogance, Selfishnesss and Impatience will most probably lead to my downfall. I guess the direction I'm heading will be to steer clear of these traps and hazards and be that 1 step closer to perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. You told me to stop my obsession with coming in first. Being the best. Being on top and be number 1. And I guess all I'm obsessed with is instant succes. I really should learn to slow it down and control my pace just so I can make my stamina last. Now what I'm doing is sprinting and dragging you along. When all you wanted is just to stroll along holding my hand. I've been dragging and forcing you to the finishing line way too early in our lives. I guess it's time for me to follow your directions and heading. Take my step back and let you lead me for once. Lead me to the finishing line holding your hold at your pace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-7385442014970526020?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/7385442014970526020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/direction-heading.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7385442014970526020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/7385442014970526020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/05/direction-heading.html' title='Direction &amp; Heading'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-4165778790728892968</id><published>2009-04-24T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T11:06:42.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Days From The End Of A Different Week?!!</title><content type='html'>What a week!! Way different from any other ever experienced!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An entire week filled lack of sleep, half a bed and no bolster. An entire week filled with excitement, touch and tv. A week filled with love and comfort and most things plesant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a week!! Sadly it's just for 1 week. Well from last friday to this saturday night...mmm guess I got 1 extra day? I had a great time when we have fun and today is exceptional. Sadly everything good has to come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the part where curiosity kills the cat and in my case, the cat is not only killed, it's dismembered and its carcass is burnt and then ran over by a 5 tonner and then put in a grinder and thrown into the sea. YES IT'S THAT BAD. I made a mistake by looking at a confession I shouldn't have seen. Yes I managed to get through the password and what I see just leaves doubts in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to trust you after all that you gave me everything. Today we really had a great day but I just have questions and I'm really afraid to just ruin the day totally. Should I ask them or should I not. No matter what, it's in the past already. Just like 2 days back when I checked on the past messages on your laptop to another different person and I once again found things I don't want to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you been betraying me while I'm not with you? That is the question I want to put forth. Why do you want to hide that from me? Another question with answer that I seek. Who is that person you are referring to? Is it him? Questions and more questions. Doubts and more doubts. With such things in the way, do I really trust you? I post this question to myself and frankly it's not the answer I gave you the other time. It's probably because of me more than you. I think the worst of people in every chance I get. Think you will get back to him if we're unable to go happily ever after. Think you have feelings for him after we argued while you're overseas. Think you're hiding things from me that's why you got angry when I probe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to correct the way I think and PROVE ME WRONG and ANSWER MY QUESTIONS. I think you've changed since you returned, we've done things we've never done before and taken another step forward. It might be a positive change but it's nothing that I expect from one like yourself. I enjoy the change and I embraced it but I just want to know what caused it. I don't want to offend you but I'm just curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know if one day you manages to read this, you'll be angry at me probably will hate me for lying to you and not trusting you at all. The last thing I want to do is to make you sad or angry but the 1st thing I want to know is the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cat needs more than 9 lives!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-4165778790728892968?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/4165778790728892968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/04/2-days-from-end-of-different-week.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4165778790728892968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/4165778790728892968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/04/2-days-from-end-of-different-week.html' title='2 Days From The End Of A Different Week?!!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4901382028177214661.post-3127603331079561382</id><published>2009-04-04T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T08:31:52.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Little Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Blogging has been around for many years now....It seems like I'm kind of slow to catch up with this trend....Bloggers all over the world has been using blogs to earn money. By putting items up for sale, by having advertisements on their blogs and by creating entertaining posts, manage to attract a large deal of hits. While me, where have I been all these years when others are using such a fun tool.....frankly I have no idea....I'm too busy in my offline world...watching tv, listening to Mp3s, playing computer games, reading comics, watching animes, karate and all sorts of different things a teenager do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Truth is, I do have another blog created a few years back. It's just I'm far too lazy to make any postings on it and I just have the mindset that people who writes and spends time on blogs are self centred, vain and shallow people. Guess I've changed my mind. Mmmm....What contradictions now that I myself is on a blog making posts. So.....why do I want to make a blog? What's my objective for making this blog? What do I hope to gain from making this blog?....Questions questions questions.....I'm asking the questions and I'm answering them at the same time haha how interesting....Right!! For me to make this blog.....is just to have an outlet. Have a place to put the words that I can't speak out of my mouth for whatever reason. For people who thinks they know me to really know me. To let me think aloud in a way other than talking to myself. Mmmm.....The last one seemed kind of werid though its exactly how I feel...Perhaps I'm what people call weird??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Everyone has fears...no matter how brave, courageous, fearless, macho or whatever the heck you look like....You still have your fears. Me....my fears??...Frankly I think I'm afraid of myself and the kind of person that I am. People always say....learn to love thy self....frankly I don't know how to do that. Because I can't love something I don't know. I can't love something that confuses me. Something that is constantly in contradictions and dilemmas. When your thoughts are always so jumbled and you keep changing your mind and keep trying to deceive yourself, you will tend to feel this way too. Living life this way is plain painful. Having no one to share this type of life and burden with feels even worse.....Maybe I do have someone. But when that someone gets angered I guess its kind of hard to share. When you feel like you gave the world to someone and that person just takes it and leave without a word, I guess it's kind of hard to not feel a little ache in the heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4901382028177214661-3127603331079561382?l=tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/feeds/3127603331079561382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-little-thought.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3127603331079561382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4901382028177214661/posts/default/3127603331079561382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tim3aft3rtim3.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-little-thought.html' title='Just A Little Thought'/><author><name>Unknown</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15397140491723020270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KK5OP6OgTbM/SdDXc4Z3VDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/UFWiFeOQtKM/S220/Hourglass.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
