<?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-17175193</id><updated>2011-04-22T11:45:28.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what's going on up there?</title><subtitle type='html'>I must listen harder....I can't hear God properly....I can't concentrate....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113422667425212417</id><published>2005-12-10T22:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T15:31:51.003+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fed up with some women's attitude</title><content type='html'>This is ridiculous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today over dim sum , I downloaded my fruastration about C having an affair to my girlfriends. 3 of them were in shock, but T was like, "It's very common ah this kind of things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P shot back at her and said "You cannot say it's common, what you are saying is that we can condone such things? These things cannot be condoned!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the conversation, T kept on saying 2 more times "These things are very common" in a my-goodness-why-are-you-so-shock-it happens-all-the-time tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't take it anymore and I shot back " You ah, T, the way you say it like it should happen and everybody is doing it so it's normal and acceptable! This is a wrong way of thinking you know?!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence ensures an my girlfriends told me much later she something along the line of different people have different opinions which I really did not hear at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P later on brought up the subject again without T around and said yes she was also quite cheesed off with T. N said she just didn't want to get between us and ate her dim sum. C reminded us of the fact T's father cheated before. And maybe that's why she thinks this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the more it means T must stand up for herself. Cannot let the same mistake happen to her and guard her happiness carefully. T once told me her life is "like that" aka never be really happy and resigned to the fact that she will meet bad men and be with them because her parents are like that and she never would be deserving of anything good either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap, bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deserving or not is what you make of yourself and your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are only sad when you allow yourself to be feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;You are only unhappy when you allow things to happen to you if you relinquished all control of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;You suffer when you allow others to bully you.&lt;br /&gt;Your selfworth is gone when you think you can never do any better than others or your present situation.&lt;br /&gt;You deceive yourself that you are happy by making excuses for everything bad happening around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is ridiculous up to a point where she is crossing the line from being stupid to pure dumbass reasoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is a close friend of mine but she keeps meeting men of weird characteristics with tonnes of emotional baggage. Sometimes I am wondering if she is craving for trouble?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear sisters of the world I wish you'll be able to stand up for yourself and be strong for whatever reasons. Don't take life as it cruises along. Grab it and stear it in the direction you WANT to go instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever don't kill you makes you stronger!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113422667425212417?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113422667425212417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113422667425212417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113422667425212417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113422667425212417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/12/fed-up-with-some-womens-attitude.html' title='Fed up with some women&apos;s attitude'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113418148664854759</id><published>2005-12-10T09:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T10:48:06.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing faith in the human race</title><content type='html'>Just found out last night that C and J are having an affair. C is already married with 3 kids and a lovely wife. MY GOODNESS! What's wrong with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so disgusted with the both of them. C is such a hypocrite. "Oh I am a family man. blahblahblah" which he always sprouts. Oh please cut me the crap! Talk is cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so affected? Why? Because I know the wife and I consider myself friends with her. In my opinion, I find her to be a truly fine woman who is so gentle compared to me and a great wife and mother of 3 gorgeous children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think that C is such a charming man and combined with the fact that he looks good for his age (late 30's), have a certain style about him and he loves his family which makes me green with envy and wants a family of my own. And C, you stupid stupid man, allowing this to happen and destroying a family? And you know what, you shit where you eat? Thats' like so plain STUPID! The whole industry is so going to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now? God, my goodness! SCUM? BASTARD? What's his problem? Your wife have been with you for years and years and you go and get yourself this stupid young thing? Who is by the way in no way comparable to your wife at all! I am not the only person thinking this way. Quick do a poll with your surrounding friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All respect for C whom I have know for 3 years have been flushed down the drain to timbucktoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And J, speaking from a married woman's point of view, you selfish selfish girl (younger than me), who gave you the right to go and hurt others? What do you think would result from this affair? You think C will stay with you? C'mon, He can cheat with you he can cheat ON you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geddit? Yes, wake up little girl, there will be no happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C is just weak and using your body for his lust. You think you are old enough to handle this? Guess what all the people around you are secretly hating you right now. Yes, we are. I don't think I can ever be sincere in talking to you anymore. A polite nod and smile is all I can offer from now on to you. Both os which will be a very weak attempt on my part. In my eyes, you are nothing but a home wrecker. A told me to pretend when I see you both. Hubby told me not to be so obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't be a poker face. Being poker face has never been my forte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Takes a deep breathe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened to the sanity of MARRIAGE? What happened to till death to we part? Maybe I am idealistic. Am I? No "WE" can part before death, but please part with each other before you start another relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told hubby last night. Please if you have fallen in love with another, at least have the courtesy to break off with me than go and start an affair with somebody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbby says he won' t and can't find another one like me. I told him, we do not know what happens 10 years, 20 years from now. But please be nice to me when you or IF you find somebody new. Hubby says it would not happen. I hope so too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now they are talking about divorce? Why? Talk it out? I suspect C is too much of an ego person to beg the forgiveness of his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any man in the same position reading this, a piece of advice, it takes a REAL STRONG man to BEG and GROVEL for the forgiveness of his wife for such a mistake. Only wimps back out and take the easy way out and then probably regard it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Begging is nothing shameful to your spouse for mistakes made. Admit it and work things out. Be sincere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reconcilation is very mportant. Why let something like this spoil more than 10 years of relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God? Will my heart be big enough if it ever happens to me? Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! I am still in shock. Can you tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think ALL MEN ARE BASTARDS. Used to. Not anymore until last night. Now, Hubby actually thinks there is a certain degree that all men are bastards after hearing about C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113418148664854759?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113418148664854759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113418148664854759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113418148664854759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113418148664854759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/12/losing-faith-in-human-race.html' title='Losing faith in the human race'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113415379407569188</id><published>2005-12-10T02:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T02:43:14.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Patch back with my mother</title><content type='html'>Yup. Patch back with my mum already. Now we are friends again. and she is cooking fr me again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah! super&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you mum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113415379407569188?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113415379407569188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113415379407569188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113415379407569188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113415379407569188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/12/patch-back-with-my-mother.html' title='Patch back with my mother'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113352485645193624</id><published>2005-12-02T19:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T20:00:56.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 more days to Standard Chartered Marathon</title><content type='html'>My knee right has been hurting for the pass 4 days! N recommended Bengay for relieve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn Ex ah! $13.95 bucks. Tiger Balm only $2 plus. Bought Bengay anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worth every cent man. Was at Essential Brew with T and started rubbing my knee with it. T was hilarious."Waaaahhhh....the smell damn strong siah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knee is almost back to normal now. 90% back in shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will slow run tomorrow for an hour and see how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reject the pain in Jesus name!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113352485645193624?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113352485645193624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113352485645193624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113352485645193624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113352485645193624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/12/2-more-days-to-standard-chartered.html' title='2 more days to Standard Chartered Marathon'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113331776730513256</id><published>2005-11-30T10:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T10:29:27.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad, you're useless!</title><content type='html'>Dad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't even talk to me infront of mum.&lt;br /&gt;You only talk to me when Mum is asleep.&lt;br /&gt;You cracked jokes with me the other night but only when mum was asleep.&lt;br /&gt;I asked you a question tody and you can't even open your mouth to answer me?&lt;br /&gt;I see mum spying at us in her room.&lt;br /&gt;Are you really so caught in a dilemma?&lt;br /&gt;Mum's your wife and I am your flesh and blood.&lt;br /&gt;So why can't you be objective?&lt;br /&gt;What did I do to you?&lt;br /&gt;If only you 2 know my 2 months long of heartbreaks and hardships?&lt;br /&gt;How much pain I have been through these couple of months.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am losing you both as much you are losing me.&lt;br /&gt;My heart bleeds.&lt;br /&gt;My tears stream freely.&lt;br /&gt;I know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;I am leaving soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113331776730513256?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113331776730513256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113331776730513256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113331776730513256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113331776730513256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/dad-youre-useless.html' title='Dad, you&apos;re useless!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113299632429481919</id><published>2005-11-26T17:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T17:12:04.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Argh! Tequila poisoning!</title><content type='html'>7am: Tummy hurts.&lt;br /&gt;7.30am: Ignores tummy hurting. Is aware of gas forming in tummy.&lt;br /&gt;7.45am: Sits up. Tries to burp. Gas, gas everywhere. Burps smells like tequila.&lt;br /&gt;7.48am: Lies down.&lt;br /&gt;7.49am: OUCH! Tummy rrrreaaaallly hurts!&lt;br /&gt;7.55am: Goes to toilet. Induces vomiting process.&lt;br /&gt;7.58am: Gross! Uses fingers to clean sink hole. Ewwww. Smells like tequila.&lt;br /&gt;8am: Feels like farting. Also feels like something coming out from my ass.&lt;br /&gt;8.01am: Sits on toilet bowl.&lt;br /&gt;8.02am: Farts. And a wholeload of shit comes out! Feeling better.&lt;br /&gt;8.10am: Goes back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;8.20am: Tummy HURTS still!Feels like shiting again. Softer stuff comes out.&lt;br /&gt;8.30am: Physically drained. Lies down on bed.&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to 10.45am&lt;br /&gt;10.45am: This time diarrhea. Tum tum shaking with fear.&lt;br /&gt;10.50am: Feeling crappy.&lt;br /&gt;11am: Calls, A, hubby to complain.&lt;br /&gt;11.45am: Calls brother to bring back charcoal pills.&lt;br /&gt;12pm: Farts and watery brown shit comes out. EEEEEEEEEEEEEWwwwwwwwwwwwww.&lt;br /&gt;12.45pm: Charcoal pills arrive. Pop 2 pills. Gossips to J about last night's event.&lt;br /&gt;1.45pm: Peaceful sleep.&lt;br /&gt;4pm: Wakes up. Pop another 2 pills.&lt;br /&gt;5.11pm: Felling  much much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now 5.12pm: Still being ignored by my mom. Cold war still on! Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113299632429481919?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113299632429481919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113299632429481919&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113299632429481919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113299632429481919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/argh-tequila-poisoning.html' title='Argh! Tequila poisoning!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113294666071476338</id><published>2005-11-26T03:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T03:28:55.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chonging with my Brother!</title><content type='html'>Woah! For the first time in HISTORY I chiong with my brother at Club Momo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FWAH! I win liao. I feel damn cool man. After dinner with my friends at Hui Chui then go Club Momo. Somemore my brother knows the boss and got us a table. Still got somemore my brother paid for everything and open a bottle of Vodka. Weeeeeehhhhhh..hahhhaahahahh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because he is going overseas to work soon, which means me his ONE and ONLY FAVOURITE sister that he loves da most, he gave me the card to his bottle kept at Club Momo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAH....and he introduce me to his friend J who is the boss there and ask me to contact whenever I need a table or something.....hiccup!Opps, drank too much....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad hor for a sister? This year he already gave me 488 bucks for my wedding and treat me to Black Eyed Peas concert and now pay for drinks for my friends and I and then give me a BOTTLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FWAHAHAHAHAHAH.......Me happy Liao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can tell I a bit high???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehheehehehehehehehehheheehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113294666071476338?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113294666071476338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113294666071476338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113294666071476338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113294666071476338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/chonging-with-my-brother.html' title='Chonging with my Brother!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113280011434726208</id><published>2005-11-24T10:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T10:41:54.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's over</title><content type='html'>Yes, yesterday was the last day of A's father's funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with her family to Mandai for the cremation. Emotional, tiring experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's finally over, the letting go of their father finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that the family will find peace and relief and have many nights of deep sleep and sweet dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right hor, God?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113280011434726208?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113280011434726208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113280011434726208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113280011434726208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113280011434726208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/its-over.html' title='It&apos;s over'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113262914853394651</id><published>2005-11-22T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T11:27:26.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mum, you have not changed for the last 10 years.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my best friend's (A) father passed away. The news came as a shock. Only earlier in the morning around 10 plus A was smsing me that she did not go to work and her father was not doing very well. I was plannng to go over after work and bring ice cream to cheer her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received from her another sms at 1.02pm. This time hr sms was very short. "Dad just passed away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in shock and shaken by the news.I started tearing and literally shaking for 10 mins. I thought it might be sometime this month but not then. I was still planning to visit uncle and A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rushed to the wake around 5 plus after work. Hubby came around 8 and I told him I wanted to go home to change and come back again to accompany her. Hubby was very tired from work but he was like " ok!". "Are you going to wait for me and then send me back to A's place?" "Of cos! I just take a nap at your place and you take your time to change:)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went home told my parents A's father just passed away. Mum and dad were sympathtic. For mum it was for a while. I told I would be back later and she was like ok. It slipped from me that I was already at the wake and she was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you going back there? It's bad luck and you don't go and kay poh. Got friends to make merry with right? Cannot go!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mum A's father just passed away. Me not going to kaypoh! I just want to go there and support her I will be back later just a couple of hours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO! I am your mother and you do what I say! Don't think you're married you can do what you want. If you waant to listen to me yu stay at home"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blahblahblahblah....it was ridiculous....i started crying in exasperation and telling her seriously at 26 I manage my own time, i can listen to her but she cannot CONTROL me. It's insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby couldn't take it anymore and came ove put his hands around me and told my mum in his funny broken mandarin " She is only going to accompany her good friend"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOAH! So MAN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All hell broke loose my mother started screaming at him. Told him to shut up and keep out of it. Told him he was going to get it from her if he was to protect me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shoved hubby into my room and told him it's ok. It's my mother let me handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just told my mother I am going out not and I will return later. My mother told mt to go and never come back? Seriously I have ben "DISOWNED" and " CHASED OUT" by my mother so many times. Too many times, the effect is all gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is my house too and that is my room and I have the right to come home. And I am going out and coming back later to sleep in my room ok!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of another situation 10 years back when I was 16 in Sec 4. A close friend attempted suicide and landed in hospital. I was already home from school in the afternoon and wanted to go and visit her. My friends were all there and I wanted to be there for her as well. Hey I spent entire holidays at her place swimming and bbqing ok? We were really close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual at 16 you kinda have to ask mum for permission to go out. Told her what happened to my friend. Again as far as I remember she said" no" I asked "why?" And 5 mins later I got a slap from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum 10 years ago I did not go to my friend when she needed me because you shouted at me and slapped me. Why you did not allow me to go it's beyond my rationalisation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years later you still do not allow me to go to be with my best friend's side? A and I have been friends since primary 1. And for goodness sake I love you mum but why do you make things so difficult sometimes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years already and history repeats itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113262914853394651?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113262914853394651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113262914853394651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113262914853394651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113262914853394651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/mum-you-have-not-changed-for-last-10.html' title='Mum, you have not changed for the last 10 years.'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113250114856551348</id><published>2005-11-20T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T23:41:23.353+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;ok trying to see if I have completed my running goals for the week!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/keeping-track-of-kilometres-i-run.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Keeping track of the kilometres I run&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok monday ran 5.3km to Botanic Gardens &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Done)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today aka Wednesday ran 3km only on threadmill (loser man) &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Done)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Plan to run 8km tomorrow morning (If I can wake up early enough) &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(Failed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday 6km &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(Failed only ran 2km with hubby cos he pant like doggie after 1km)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday 10km &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(Failed run only 8km but &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;quite happy&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiyoh...how to run the marathon with me so slack? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Should have just signed up for the 10km instead! &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;( Agree with my previous statement again!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113250114856551348?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113250114856551348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113250114856551348&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113250114856551348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113250114856551348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/ok-trying-to-see-if-i-have-completed.html' title=''/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113229412934457206</id><published>2005-11-18T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T14:10:18.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comtemplating a career change</title><content type='html'>I am doing what I have always wanted. Kinda sick of the environment. Need a change of routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compared to my peers, I have been doing this fr a LONG time whicle some of them have changed jobs more than 4 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby told me if I want to stop, take a long brake of a couple of months to refocus and rest for a while. Maybe I will take up a Diving Instructor's course. HAH! Sorry dear me, me no have extra moolah for this kinda stuff now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tamade! Sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113229412934457206?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113229412934457206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113229412934457206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113229412934457206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113229412934457206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/comtemplating-career-change.html' title='Comtemplating a career change'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113224785393019311</id><published>2005-11-18T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T01:17:33.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>There is a Church of Satan?</title><content type='html'>Just googled something on Harry Potter and the Church and came up with people joining the Church of Satan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How bizarre? I clicked on the link to COS and I closed it. While loading it seems too creepy to see the finished loaded page. EWWWWWW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the name of JESUS, get away from me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUI (4)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113224785393019311?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113224785393019311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113224785393019311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113224785393019311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113224785393019311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/there-is-church-of-satan.html' title='There is a Church of Satan?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113224710571496661</id><published>2005-11-18T01:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T01:05:05.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching Harry Potter!</title><content type='html'>Yeah! Hubby finally got hold of the tickets online!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry here I come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wondering though, why does the church not allow us to watch it? Must have missed the sermon. Gonna watch it anyway!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113224710571496661?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113224710571496661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113224710571496661&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113224710571496661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113224710571496661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/watching-harry-potter.html' title='Watching Harry Potter!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113216282932269967</id><published>2005-11-17T01:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T01:40:29.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My pre birthday treat</title><content type='html'>Yes, I had FUN tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My long time friend, T, spend half a day with me today to celebrate my birthday. Just the 2 of us, so romantic hor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to meet at 4pm but in the end met around 5 plus because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;She got called back to her head office for something&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My right contacts disappeared into the back of my eyeball and I had to blink blink blink for it to appear.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was eating sandwich and chili spilled onto my WHITE pants and I had to change.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Met her at Lido and then we proceeded to walk around. She kept asking what I wanted for my birthday. I kept telling her no need lah because I don't plan to buy her anything for her's in Dec...hahah...me cheapo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And also the fact that we know each other for soooooo long and the company together is so much more important than wrecking my brains on what to get. And seriously at my age and stage in life the things I want are, ahem too out of reach.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had yummy yummy food at Coffee Club at Taka. It was raining outside and so we spent quite a fair bit of time there jusy nuahing. The waiter kept coming over to clear plates, glasses machiam like shooing us away, you know what I mean?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then we went to Paragon because I wanted to look at some Polar watches. My goodness the cheapest at $163 look SO CHEAP? It looked cheaper than a Flip Flap watch. Seriously my G shock watch from 3 years ago look so much stylo. For $163 bucks I know I can't get a decent Polar watch but why make them so SO CHEAP? Plasticky and ugly grey colour?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;T had a craving for Fondue and we headed to Baker's Inn for dessert. Wah we really pigs man. The Chocolate bun was just heaven. And she ordered some  Ice cream puff thingy, totally valur for money because there were 3 scoops. SINFULLY DELICIOUS! So very yummy and filling! After a while we were feeling kinda Jelat man. OOOOooooooo.SWEET! And me was too cheapo becuase Baker's Inn really do not serve ice water and we had to have evian for a buck! Wah lao eh? If I were cheapo then Baker's Inn lagi cheapo lor!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Proceeded to Guess? just opposite then.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn't know GUESS? had so many blingbling watches man. So cool. I mean I would really love a Rolex and should be eyeing them instead of a GUESS? watch but they were too cool man. I have fallen in love with a few :p&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ahhhh the night still young at 10pm and we went to Heeren to check out the new place there called "Balcony". Pretty cool I must say. The servers are all slow and retard though. But all the lao beng bosses I think at least 4 of them were extremely polite, helpful and nice to me and T. One big fat looks really nice boss caught my attention  and when our drinks didn't arrive after 30 mins later I waited for him to walk by (although many other servers and lao beng bosses already walk pass many many times) and then told him that our drinks have been missing for 30 mins. And VOILA! Drinks came instantly with apologies and smiles!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;T and I shared many things that night and the laughter and joy I felt was just so pure. Having just lost my friendship with B, I really treasure T's friendship now and did I mentioned SHE PAID FOR EVERYTHING? All the food and drinks? Awwwwwwww......I am totally cheapo and lived off her! Hey I offered many times ok? And I kept telling her not to buy a gift!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The night was great, much better than a gift I must say!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you, T, for the great night.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have immortalised it on my blog!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113216282932269967?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113216282932269967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113216282932269967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113216282932269967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113216282932269967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-pre-birthday-treat.html' title='My pre birthday treat'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113212499114055600</id><published>2005-11-16T15:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T15:09:51.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping track of the kilometres I run</title><content type='html'>Ok monday ran 5.3km to Botanic Gardens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today aka Wednesday ran 3km only on threadmill (loser man)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan to run 8km tomorrow morning (If I can wake up early enough)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday 6km&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday 10km&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiyoh...how to run the marathon with me so slack? Should have just signed up for the 10km instead!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113212499114055600?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113212499114055600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113212499114055600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113212499114055600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113212499114055600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/keeping-track-of-kilometres-i-run.html' title='Keeping track of the kilometres I run'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113211960032852669</id><published>2005-11-16T13:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T13:40:00.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Off for another run!</title><content type='html'>Hope my brains don't get cooked in the sun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113211960032852669?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113211960032852669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113211960032852669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113211960032852669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113211960032852669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/off-for-another-run.html' title='Off for another run!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113211480093496633</id><published>2005-11-16T12:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T12:20:00.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken little song</title><content type='html'>Just called my hubby on his mobile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby: Hello?&lt;br /&gt;CB: Haiya hee haiya ho haiya hee haiya hoho! (chicken little song where he does the dance!)&lt;br /&gt;Hubby: (Silence, then 3 seconds later...)  HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am silly. But I love to hear him laugh, especially laugh at my silly antics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113211480093496633?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113211480093496633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113211480093496633&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113211480093496633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113211480093496633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/chicken-little-song.html' title='Chicken little song'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113207083121441439</id><published>2005-11-16T00:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T12:02:33.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendships. Are they real?</title><content type='html'>Outwardly I look like the kind who would be surrounded by friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inwardly I hate to make small talk to people, entertain others and waste my time. I just want friends who I can really rely on and I think my time and effort should be just spent on these good friends. Any ore and I cannot maintain a deep and true enough friendship. These are just in my humble opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes even those friends whom I think would stick through thick and thin with me get caught up in their own lives and then chase after something and then forgets your existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a scorpio and I can't help it. The first emotion that would grow from me would be anger. Pure anger of betrayal because they forget about you, what you have done and your promises to each other to be there for all the good and bad times. Anger because you feel used. Used in a way that "Hey we are pals when I need you! Now that I am busy, I can't spend any more of my precious time with you cos I need to go and build my empire!" When this happens, friendship is just so cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure anger would turn to sadness. Sad because you have been disappointed by his/her actions. They don't care about you and it breaks your heart. Maybe I value friendship too much. Or maybe I expect too much from a friendship and everybody changes overtime and they have their own lives to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I live by the rule of " Do unto others what you want to be done unto you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried my best. Of cos I expect the same results and friends to be there for me as well when I go out of my way to be there for them. When the going gets tough and the tough gets going only a few will be left standing there for you. And those who are there for you are a surprising few not because you don't expect them to be there but more of you don't expect those who really mean something to you can't even hold a candle to the few left standing there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So are friendships real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of those Prison's ad where they show a lone person in a cell and the words something along the line of "and my brothers say they will never leave me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Human beings are plain selfish? Looking out for themselves? Or just plain forgetful about the times when you were there for them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe what they say is true. Blood is thicker than water. However my brother and I fight. And I mean really fight. Like I disowned you/hate you/wish you didn't exist kind of fight. We always managed to make up and as siblings do what siblings do. Love and support each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or like what other peole say although I have never quite figure out who are these "other people" when one gets married the husband/wife is the most reliable/closest person to you. I feel so much closer to my hubby after the wedding. I had a lot of problems and he never once rebuke me for my mistakes but was there helping me, consoling me, cheering me up all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship? I dare not say I have friends whom I know would come to rescue me if I was in deep shit. Because human beings are so complex, they surprise me all the time with their irrational behaviour. The way they think I cannot fathom if they know that it is wrong. Or they think so what if it is wrong, their interests must always come first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I am so glad I love you because you first love me. No matter how I feel or what I do I know you love me and will be here for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends and friendships? Maybe I am really expecting too much from them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113207083121441439?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113207083121441439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113207083121441439&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113207083121441439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113207083121441439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/friendships-are-they-real.html' title='Friendships. Are they real?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113195981918571908</id><published>2005-11-14T17:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T17:21:44.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running/attempting to run a half marathon</title><content type='html'>Oh my god!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's barely 2 weeks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am talking about the Standchart Marathon on the 4th Dec. And I am only doing the half which is 21KM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I do it? My goodness and I didn't even really train for it. With all my problems and everything! How arh? How arh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiyoh.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off for a run now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113195981918571908?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113195981918571908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113195981918571908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113195981918571908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113195981918571908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/runningattempting-to-run-half-marathon.html' title='Running/attempting to run a half marathon'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113181560528709222</id><published>2005-11-13T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T01:16:28.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intense period cramps</title><content type='html'>My goodness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never suffered such intense period cramps in my entire life. Ok I am not that old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain came around 2pm this afternoon. Could not sit properly because of the pain. Tried walking around the house and was doing it like I was 120 years old. Slow and steady because of the pain. It was bad. Cos i need to go to work at 6pm and the pain was killing me. I tried to take a nap around 3.30pm hopeing the pain might go away. And I prayed about it. It subsided for a while and then the pain came back in full force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up around 4 plus, had to get ready for work. Took a shower and came out breaking in a sweat. My god! How to go out like this to work? Putting on make up was tiring enough for me, sweating and shaking a little. A lil dizzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain is something like when you need to shit? I know it sounds weird. The kind of shit like the hard hard kind? The type you need to force out? But I don't need to move my bowels cos there nothing in there to move. I visited the toilet 4 times and just sat on the bowl. Nothing came. Plus there is nothing in my ass, just pain in my tum tum. Argh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made it out of the house and onto a bus. On the bus to try to forget about the pain, me started singing all kinds of worship songs. Just kept singing to myself. Miraculously by the time I got off the bus, the pain was TOTALLY gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain free lasted all of 6 hrs. BUT once I left my workplace the pain came back. Now my cramps are back but in a slight nagging pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why arh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously thank God man that I did not pass out at my workplace. That would have been bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shitting again @@&lt;br /&gt;                                            O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113181560528709222?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113181560528709222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113181560528709222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113181560528709222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113181560528709222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/intense-period-cramps.html' title='Intense period cramps'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113176522865394599</id><published>2005-11-12T14:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T14:18:43.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Exorcism of Emily Rose</title><content type='html'>Went with hubby to watch last night. Midnight show somemore. And FULL HOUSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I bought the tickets at 7pm there were like only 2 rows taken up andI thought....wah not many people watch horror movies hor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any I went with the expectation of just watching something scary and gruesome through and through. But I loved the show because it has a really meaningful ending to it. Maybe not to non-believers because my hubby didn't really get it. And I heard many other people complain there was no ending or whatsoever. And they were still making fun of the posers of Emily Rose when she was being possessed. It is a horrble sight I tell you. Not funny ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can relate to the show because many years agao my mother seem to be possessed herself. You know going into fits and having her fingers and body go all stiff. But that's another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie was about &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;free will&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ER was given a choice to either be free of being possessed and leave this world OR stay and continue to be possessed but be a testimony to the world that GOD exists. Because when there are the existence of demons, there will be the existence of GOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ER choose to stay and go through the torment of being possessed despite the suffering. Brave, very brave. She gave up her freedom and life to be a soldier for GOD. Someone who can tell His story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the failed attempt ogthe first exorcism, ER choosed not to go through another one and lived the rest of her possessed life doing GOD's purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FREE WILL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot emphasis this enough. Jesus Christ gave up his life freely aka free will even though he was PERFECT and died a horrendous death being whipped and pierced to the cross and the whole works done to him. Jesus Christ through his own free will did this to bear all our sins in &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;my very own words&lt;/span&gt; made a plea with GOD because of his sacrifice please give the human race a chance to enter heaven and not hell so as long they believe in you and me dying for them and acknowledge what I have done for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may not make much meaning to many reading this. If anybody is reading this anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this other movie, Constatine, where the character Constatine played by Keanu Reeves was saying something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Imagine God and Satan are having a wager. See who can influence Man. Each would just whisper into their ears and and then it is up to Man to choose his own path. Following his Free Will to choose who to follow"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am writing this I am experiencing intensed pain cos me having me period. Having intensed cramps which is very abnormal to me. Somehow I know it is the work of the devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I choose to REJECT it. Reject it in the name of Jesus Christ. I claim in his name that my pain goes away and I am healed in His name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. I reject the pain! In Jesus's name!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain has seriously subsided now. It was just in a matter of minutes after I pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me thinks me go lie down now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113176522865394599?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113176522865394599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113176522865394599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113176522865394599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113176522865394599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/exorcism-of-emily-rose.html' title='The Exorcism of Emily Rose'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113168912115351593</id><published>2005-11-11T14:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T14:11:43.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When friends become distant</title><content type='html'>I have a very close friend. Let's call him B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is one of my closest friend on earth. Shared with him tons of secrets. Like TONS of deep deep dark secrets. Smoked together, clubbed together, laugh and cry together. I saw him like 3 times a week, morning afternoon and midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I also realised he is really PETTY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the examples would be him walking out in a restuarant during a holiday overseas because another friend, D, did not wait for him to do something. I was shocked, D was shocked and another friend, P was like wide eyed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have seen it coming. B's pettiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway B got married last year and then he seemed to have new responsibilities so yeah the time spent between us is much lesser. He also don't like me hanging out with this other guy C who owes him 35 bucks. HELLO? Give it up will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately he is also my insurance agent. I find his tactics a little bit under the table. And it seemed like he has applied those same tactics to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel HURT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beginning of the year he double billed me for something and I was a bit pissed. and because of that I think he became petty and stayed away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on I called him again to clarify things and told him to forget it and point to him that he was indeed petty and he agreed so. So we made up. But things was still weird seriously. I feel like I could not talk to him as before like he was holding back stuff from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it brought back memories that I was unhappy about a certain point in my policy some years back and I felt a bit cheated by him/and company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shared this to F and she told me, A was also treated like that and didn't sign the policy with B and was very angry with B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B NEVER told me of this point. Seems like he wanted to hide this fact from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recently, hubby and I purchased another policy from B. Along the way, B told me something and I disagreed. To cut the story short, B told me he will get back to me. But he never did so. Finally I sms B and he old me the policy will be cancelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like that. No calls from him. No explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby was angry and even wanted to write in to complain against him. I didn't wanant that. That would mean us never to talk again. I am pissed but I didn't want to go to that extend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His sense of responsibility has gone down the drain. And so has the friendship. I know he is avoiding me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will NEVER buy another policy from him again. Too painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know we will never share secrets ever again as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113168912115351593?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113168912115351593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113168912115351593&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113168912115351593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113168912115351593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/when-friends-become-distant.html' title='When friends become distant'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113163642977799265</id><published>2005-11-10T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T23:27:09.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleeding internally</title><content type='html'>I don't think I have worked so hard and such long hours and worry so much ever. And today I got to start bleeding. wah lau....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel my tum tum go "guruk guruk" "swish swish" machiam like washing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cramps man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a splitting headache to top it off. Wheeeeiiiieeee.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to crawl to m bed now.....I am see my bolster beckoning me "Come come, me soft soft, you like...." and my blankie "me warm warm, you lagi like..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tumtum trembling.....roarrrrr......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113163642977799265?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113163642977799265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113163642977799265&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113163642977799265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113163642977799265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/bleeding-internally.html' title='Bleeding internally'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113155738284464065</id><published>2005-11-10T01:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T01:29:42.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not really in the mood</title><content type='html'>My bday is next week. For once in my ENTIRE life, I am not really interested in celebrating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am too tired?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am getting a bit old for birthdays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there are better things to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see how it goes next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113155738284464065?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113155738284464065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113155738284464065&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113155738284464065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113155738284464065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/not-really-in-mood.html' title='Not really in the mood'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113155669237200868</id><published>2005-11-10T01:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T01:18:12.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I heard you Jesus</title><content type='html'>I made a prayer on Monday night. I prayed for the outcome of my meeting yesterday. I heard the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got it. Victory. I heard it over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meeting was so in my favour. Even the tone of P the hard nut to crack was somehow on my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, My Lord God, you are indeed wonderful :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you. I love you. Thank you for your love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113155669237200868?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113155669237200868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113155669237200868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113155669237200868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113155669237200868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-heard-you-jesus.html' title='I heard you Jesus'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113137130858724067</id><published>2005-11-07T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T21:48:28.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding ideas in problems?</title><content type='html'>All the problems I have been facing in my work, new ideas seem to have been forced out by it. There seem to be a light coming out from the other end of the tunnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light is getting brighter. Is there a message coming out from all my problems?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I know what the message is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113137130858724067?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113137130858724067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113137130858724067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113137130858724067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113137130858724067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/finding-ideas-in-problems.html' title='Finding ideas in problems?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112816058629145057</id><published>2005-11-06T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T00:58:56.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarter Life Crisis</title><content type='html'>Maybe I am suffering from THE quarter life crisis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Quarter-Life Crisis by unknown &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are a lot of things about yourself that you didn't know and may or may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you do not realize is that they are realizing that too and are not really cold or catty or mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You look at your job. It is not even close to what you thought you would be doing or maybe you are looking for one and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and are scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You miss the comforts of college, of groups, of socializing with the same people on a constant basis. But then you realize that maybe they weren't so great after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You are beginning to understand yourself and what you want and do not want. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging a bit more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and add things to your list of what is acceptable and what is not. You are insecure and then secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough to get to know better. You love someone but maybe love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you are not a bad person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap and getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You worry about loans and money and the future and making a life for yourself and while wining the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112816058629145057?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112816058629145057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112816058629145057&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816058629145057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816058629145057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/quarter-life-crisis.html' title='Quarter Life Crisis'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113120892816425925</id><published>2005-11-06T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T00:47:54.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything is wrong now</title><content type='html'>I know everything in my life is just going the wrong way. I am stressed and yet at the same time, I know I will survive somehow. Is this what they say as trust in the lord? And One would feel peace? Let him take care of everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith; and the beginningof true faith is the end of anxiety.      -- George Müller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess that I am not that super religious kind. No reading of bible for hours on end. No fasting and meditationn. If you knew me, you would even think I am a bad example of a Christian. I am intolerant of super people. Impatient to even friends around me. Curse and swear at the slightest point of being ticked off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know that deep down God will take care of everything for me. I know. I know He would because I distinctively remember him telling me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I need to do is to surrender to him and let him take over my problems. ALL my problems. I need to let go and just focused on him now. Please let me focused on him.I can't really do it anymore. I am suffering from a total burnout. soon a total meltdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I will be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because He said so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113120892816425925?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113120892816425925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113120892816425925&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113120892816425925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113120892816425925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/everything-is-wrong-now.html' title='Everything is wrong now'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113098912412976545</id><published>2005-11-03T11:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T12:05:34.003+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling refresh and ready to fight the battle</title><content type='html'>Took off on Satmorning to Bkk with my husband. Spent 5 non stressing days filled with laughter, fun and nonsense. It was a good week to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at Khao San, the infamouse place for backpackers. This is like my 20th time to Bkk and I still love the place. The rooms were cheap, food is cheap, cabs are cheap, the massage is heavenly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The timeing was perfect. The trip took me away from the load of crap I was facing. I feel refreshed. And somewhat stronger. God must have planned for this trip. Because my hubby and I scheduled this trip way before my problems arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31st Oct was Halloween. For 4 days leading to the big night. Khao San had parties after parties. The Asahi Music Fest 2005. Backpackers dressed in werid customs. Street performers were out with their drums and guitars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby and I truly had a blast. Slept late. Ate everything and anything. I think we consumed at least 7 Phad Thai, 2 omelette, 1 fried rice, just on Khao San itself. And all the other heavy meals at the 4 other restaurants we pigged out. BURRRP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby didn't look bored when I was shopping. Infact this time he was super encouraging.&lt;br /&gt;My shiteload consists of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;5 tops&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 denim skirt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 sling bag&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 pairs of shoes (2 heels and 1 puma=fake from khao san)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 billabong cap&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me thinks Hubby knows me stress. Shopping is thereupeutic and Hubby wants to see me smile and be excited about something. There were times he even asks me if I wanted to enter this/that shop to check out their stuff.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3 days before we left for bkk, we were lying on the bed just chatting and Hubby said something.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hubby: You are so sad this time. Other times when you are sad, it's because of me and it's ok. I can still control the situation. This time it's not because of me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I asded him if he feels sad and he answered yes his heart hurts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He said for the first time he really feels sad when I am so sad. Crying, sobbing, miserable and all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love you. Thank you for being there for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113098912412976545?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113098912412976545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113098912412976545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113098912412976545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113098912412976545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/11/feeling-refresh-and-ready-to-fight.html' title='Feeling refresh and ready to fight the battle'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-113041267829785100</id><published>2005-10-27T19:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T19:31:18.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus help me.</title><content type='html'>My sprits are so low. I have not been so down for years. I had a good cry last night. Broke down at my workplace. Everything just does not seem to be working my way. Came home and broke down again. Husband was worried. Told me not to do anything stupid. I think he's worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. Thank you for being there for me. Your love reminded me why you are the right man for me again. Your love reminded me you are the bestest husband on earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry I won't do anything stupid. It's not worth to be stupid over work. Fraustrated yes, stupid no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am writing this, my tears are streaming down my face. I feel defeated but yet I know I should not be. With Jesus on my side who can be against me. I must fight. I must be strong. I must count my blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a loving husband.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a loving family but though I am glad they are overseas and not here to nag me for unimportant things adding pressure to me right now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have a roof over my head.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have Jesus. Jesue please help me. Please. I surrender. I am so tired.I feel so helpless and useless. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thank you. I still have a computer to write this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have the best husband again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am still a able bodied person who can start all over again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have my TV to watch.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have good friends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you for my husband.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-113041267829785100?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/113041267829785100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=113041267829785100&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113041267829785100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/113041267829785100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/jesus-help-me.html' title='Jesus help me.'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112960303069281911</id><published>2005-10-18T10:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T10:37:13.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be the thermostat not the thermometer</title><content type='html'>I will not allow the environment and the people control who I am and what I can become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be the ONE instead and set a pace for others and make the environment a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be a thermostat and set the temperature, be an example, become a leader!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be a thermometer and you shall fluctuate according to the surroundings and be at the mercy of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God give me favour!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112960303069281911?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112960303069281911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112960303069281911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112960303069281911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112960303069281911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/be-thermostat-not-thermometer.html' title='Be the thermostat not the thermometer'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112959799012779489</id><published>2005-10-18T09:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T09:17:01.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corporate red tape aka piece of shite</title><content type='html'>There I've said it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@#$%&amp;**%#@!!??$&amp;amp;^$W#$@&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112959799012779489?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112959799012779489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112959799012779489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112959799012779489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112959799012779489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/corporate-red-tape-aka-piece-of-shite.html' title='Corporate red tape aka piece of shite'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112913811858096918</id><published>2005-10-13T01:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T01:28:38.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A bit lost</title><content type='html'>I saw her father&lt;br /&gt;He looked rather tired&lt;br /&gt;Seemed so different&lt;br /&gt;Like leather that's so seasoned&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just been a week&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he's so weak&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad for her&lt;br /&gt;Her life is a blur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Jesus is it time?&lt;br /&gt;For him to go and find&lt;br /&gt;The maker of his life&lt;br /&gt;That may suit him just fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray she has strength&lt;br /&gt;For life is such a prank&lt;br /&gt;Oh man oh man&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to suffer can?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112913811858096918?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112913811858096918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112913811858096918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112913811858096918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112913811858096918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/bit-lost.html' title='A bit lost'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112904752229279493</id><published>2005-10-12T00:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T00:18:42.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Police just called me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mobile phone rings. WHo? Don't recognize the number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Guy: This is Inspector Taufik blahblah.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;CB: (Huh? Taufik? You got me at taufik)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Isp Taufik: ....just need to confirm with you the ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;CB: (HWAH! Seriously, it's the police!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Isp Taufik: So the event that took place......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Just blogged finished and then the police called to confirm the case again. So exciting! Aiyoh why I think like that, people kena rolled over ok? Sorry. Maybe I get award for helping hor? Aiyoh snap out of it!!! Sorry sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I wonder how's the boy doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112904752229279493?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112904752229279493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112904752229279493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112904752229279493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112904752229279493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/police-just-called-me.html' title='Police just called me'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112904683956616366</id><published>2005-10-11T23:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T00:56:41.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF hit and run?!!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My husband and I were driving towards my parents's place just now around 9.30pm when we saw this Malay boy lying by the roadside 20 metres from Holland Village in the direction of Holland Road towards Ulu Pandan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My (fast reacting) hubby stopped the car and got off. Another Malay boy got onto his bike and gave chase at the lorry which hit him ( I found out later). I kneeled down on the pavement and talked to the victim. He had another friend attending to him but looked like he was in a dazed himself but managed to asked me to call for ambulance. My hubby immediate got out his little orange triangle and redirected traffic while I called 995.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My EFR (emergency first responder) senses kicked in and I checked him for neck injuries. Nope none there, ok. No need to hold his head in place. Arms and legs slightly scraped. The kid told me the lorry ran over his stomach. GASP! JESUS! I told him not to move. Proceeded to dial 999.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked the victim if he has called his parents or family (the friend still in shock-mode) and I loan him my phone to call his folks and the friend helped him to dial. After that I asked him, any girlfriend to call? He managed to laugh and said no. Good, I told him, sense of humour still intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hubby was still directing the heavy traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually 5 mins after we stopped our car, another car stopped and the couple came out as well. But the girl came within 10 metres of the vicitm and then went back to her car quickly while her&lt;br /&gt;bf/husband came to show concern Not much help actually cos he didn't do anything at all. Didn't talk to the victim nor make any calls. Just gave useless advice like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: He's ok lah he's not in shock.&lt;br /&gt;CB: Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;Man: He's fine lah, just lie there don't move can already. He should be ok.&lt;br /&gt;CB: The lorry rolled over his stomach??!!&lt;br /&gt;Man: Oh!&lt;br /&gt;No more comments from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great he stopped but he didn't find out the extend of the injuries nor make any attempt to or do anything great. Quite boliao leh. And his gf/wife? What's up? See the boy then go back immediately? Scared of blood ah? Then why stop?I don't understand them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy who gave chase came back. Could not find the lorry. But he got the vehicle number. A taxi driver slowed down and said he saw the accident. Gave the boys the vehicle number again. Aiyah I didn't pay attention or else I would have posted the lorry's number here BIG BIG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police came for the record 10 mins later. Hubby waved them in. The boliao couple left. Another man stopped his car and helped out. I think he was a doctor or an intern/houseman cos he looked rather young. I stuck around because the Malay boy's hp seem to be down and they were still using my phone to make several calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambulance came 26 mins later?? HUH? So slow? I would have died already! Wah lau!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic Police arrived like 30 mins later lor. Why the services so slow? My goodness? Quite disappointing you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We waved the boys good bye when the victim was carried to the ambulance and they said "Thank you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man it felt good. Hubby and I felt great to help out. I was thinking if ever 1 day I was in the same situation, please someone come to my help please. It was quite surreal as we went through the whole chain of events but it felt good to help out. Really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that they find the lorry driver and hang him by the balls. Wah lau eh. Hit and run. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the boy if doing fine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112904683956616366?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112904683956616366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112904683956616366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112904683956616366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112904683956616366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/wtf-hit-and-run.html' title='WTF hit and run?!!?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112895471244890564</id><published>2005-10-10T22:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T22:55:35.803+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my hubby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He just called me to tell me he had a "brainwave". Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orhhhhh.....he wants to put a sliding door into his study at our new flat to install aircon. Our flat 5 room so got 3 bedrooms and 1 study that doesn't come with a door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh? I thought you don't want door therefore illogical for a aircon mah, aircon all run out of the room. No meh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOOooooohhhhhh he jealous my study/room for junk got door and thus will be airconed (heehee) and his don't have and blame me for being selfish. He said it so cute. You know like this tenny weeny cute cute "teh" voice. "Hmpth! You no share with me your aircon room I sad sad!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Huh? My fault arh? Aiyoh but so cute. How to get angry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUACK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112895471244890564?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112895471244890564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112895471244890564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112895471244890564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112895471244890564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-love-my-hubby.html' title='I love my hubby!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112895367837007278</id><published>2005-10-10T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T22:19:07.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired but happy</title><content type='html'>I feel better now but still very tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was stoning in the MRT after work listening to my MP3 player which my hubby bought for me last month. So sweet hor. Spur of the moment thing. Say it's a small wedding pressie for me. Heeheeheee :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental note to self: Thou shall not be too smug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a boring predictable person and I will keep repeating the same songs over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;1G is more than enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite songs on my playlist:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gabrielle - Out of reach&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lenny Kravitz - It's ain't over till it's over&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lauren Wood - Fallen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Martin Smith - I will sing of your love forever&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;The last one is a real gem for me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Martin Smith- I will sing of your love forever&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Over the mountains and the sea &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your river runs with love for me &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I will open up my heart &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And let the Healer set me free &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m happy to be in the truth &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I will daily lift my hands &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For I will always sing of when &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your love came down &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could sing of your love forever&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; I could sing of your love forever &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could sing of your love forever &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could sing of your love forever &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh I feel like dancing &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It’s foolishness I know &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But when the world has seen the Light &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They will dance with joy like we’re dancing now &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112895367837007278?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112895367837007278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112895367837007278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112895367837007278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112895367837007278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/tired-but-happy.html' title='Tired but happy'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112891013835333507</id><published>2005-10-10T10:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T10:08:58.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus, my back is breaking and I feel sick</title><content type='html'>I don't feel well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am aching all over. Runny nose. Deprived of sleep. Too many problems to solve. Too many details to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my staff left after my lecturing her on Saturday. Good. Show your own way out. Thank you. Save us the ackward moment of me firing you and you going into shock mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, give me strength for the day, night and the entire week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112891013835333507?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112891013835333507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112891013835333507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112891013835333507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112891013835333507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/jesus-my-back-is-breaking-and-i-feel.html' title='Jesus, my back is breaking and I feel sick'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112874749153619847</id><published>2005-10-10T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T00:41:00.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's up with perverts?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I went for a late night supper with my dad on last Friday. There is this hawker centre that has one of the better Beehoon Goreng I have eaten and they open like 24 hrs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ther I was happily eating my BG and this malay guy with super messey hair tied back in a pony tail was smiling and waving at me. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me because I was not wearing my specs. I looked at him and there he was again smiling at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my dad was there and I didn't want to make a big fuss and being a big girl now I just ignore that asshole and once in a while gave him my most kwai lan look. Super annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been harassed before many times. Once I was even taken into a hotel room by my manager (when I was working part time in a hotel) and he came onto me. Fuck man! That one really freaked me out because I was 17 and my mother is the kind that would never let me out of the house ever again if she knew the perils of the world on her little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, I have grown to be ultra anti-pervs and aggressive. I look like an angel (seriously sweet face) but step on my toes and you get the you-are-asking-for-it reaction from me. It ranges from a deadly stare to an explosion in public. If you have been scolded by this sweet girl before in Orchard Road, that might be me. I don't care if people are staring, not like I am planning to run for politics later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my line, I train a lot of young girls and sometimes they share their encounters with pervs. Most, no I am sorry, ALL their reaction is to hide somewhere, get down the bus (if an asshole strikes on the bus), quickly walk away, look away pretend they didn't see or know what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@%^(@$^&amp;()!!$#*??!!*&amp;amp;# WTF? Wah lau eh?!!? Retaliate man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please if any girl who knows what I mean and reading this, KNOW that you can do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;You are sitting in a bus. Pervert gets on and sits next to you. He inches closer and closer. Slowly his hand touches your lap. You can:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;a) Get off the bus by squeezing through the Perv and hope he does not reach and grab your butt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;OR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;b) Turn and look at him and shout, "WHAT THE FUCK? STOP TOUCHING ME!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Scenario 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;You are clubbing and a Pervert touches your behind. You can:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;a) Change position with your friends or walk away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;OR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;b) Turn around and slap whoever is standing there. If it's the wrong guy , you can tell from his reaction, wrong guy=angry right guy=frightened, start crying and say somebody GRABBED you. I gaurantee a zillion hero-wanna-be's would be standing&lt;/span&gt; by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Scenario 3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;You come home late and a Pervert grabs you from behind. You can:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;a) Cry like a baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;OR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;b) Bend your neck down till your chin touches your chest and with full force slam your head backwards towards his face. When the Perv lets go, RUN/SHOUT simultenously for help. Or better still turn and grab his shoulders and knee his BALLS/DICK aka groin. Head butt him and poke his eyes with your fingers! Inflict as much pain as possible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I hope for the day to meet face to face with a Perv when my 2 particular gfs are with me, one of them keep meeting flashers at REDHILL MRT seriously. We talked through each person's role. A would hold the legs while B will hold the head and I would just start kicking and aiming the groin like there is no tomorrow. Hwah! SHIOK SIAH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Machiam like Charlie's angels! BEST!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;So please girls, know you can do something and it makes a difference. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Stand up for YOURSELF and show the Pervs you can kick his NERVE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112874749153619847?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112874749153619847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112874749153619847&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112874749153619847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112874749153619847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/whats-up-with-perverts.html' title='What&apos;s up with perverts?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112878741785048318</id><published>2005-10-09T00:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T00:44:18.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The more blogs the more hits?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Just wondering, I did not blog for a week and my hit counter was stuck at 64. I blog like a total of 4 entires yesterday, technically yesterday, because now it's past 12am and my hit counter jumped 20 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I suspect the hits come from bloggers just reading random blogs by hitting the "NEXT BLOG" button on the top right hand corner of the page. Ok fine! I read random blogs myself that's why I know can?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the more one blogs the more Blogspot would feature/arrange the blog to be the next in line for "NEXT BLOG"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental note to self:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not rocket science, you "GENIUS"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Time to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112878741785048318?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112878741785048318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112878741785048318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878741785048318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878741785048318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/more-blogs-more-hits.html' title='The more blogs the more hits?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112878420040953636</id><published>2005-10-08T23:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T23:36:53.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going blind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Like I blogged before I have this habit of re-reading my entries and just realised that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;The fonts are soooooo small!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;The colour of the fonts are toooooo light!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I am going blind reading my blog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mental note to self&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Increase font size&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Use pure white. Looks clearer against the black background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Stop reading your own blog! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Which leads me to conclude that I am my ONLY and BEST fan. Hahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112878420040953636?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112878420040953636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112878420040953636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878420040953636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878420040953636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/going-blind.html' title='Going blind'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112878254004549394</id><published>2005-10-08T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T23:19:29.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somebody read my blog! More than once!</title><content type='html'>Wooooooohoooooooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this annoying habit of re-reading what I have written all the the time. And while I was scrolling up and down my posts I saw one of my entries. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Virgin at 30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; has &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt; comment! I clicked on it and read it. The comment is from the same person, &lt;a href="http://amyhcalum.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, who read my very 1st post minutes after I posted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is her comment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Hmmm. An interesting post. You mused if it was Asian culture to be closed-mouthed about losing one's virginity. Perhaps. In America, past a certain age, it seems to be somewhat commonplace or assumed that one is NOT a virgin. I'd say the majority of my friends (we're close to 30) are not &amp;amp; of those friends, only a handful are married. However, a I know a lot of the married ones waited till they WERE married before they gave up the goods. So...think what you will, but I'm not sad that I'm no "v". ps--i'm putting a link to your blog on my sidebar of my blog. If that's NOT ok, let me know. (I like your blog/writing)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Check her out &lt;a href="http://amyhcalum.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;http://amyhcalum.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s Although I seriously don't know anybody else reading my blog. :p&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say something in return. AHEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear &lt;a href="http://amyhcalum.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am HONOURED that you are putting my link on your blog! More than honoured actually! Somebody ACTUALLY reads my blog. I know I wish never want to be identified but knowing that someone reads it is a great boost to wanting to write more and express more of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can see me now I am grinning from side to side and doing some sort of a happy dance in my heart! La la la....dum dee dum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read through your blogs as well, I believe if we meet we will end up as good if not great friends!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your encouragement!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112878254004549394?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112878254004549394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112878254004549394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878254004549394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112878254004549394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/somebody-read-my-blog-more-than-once.html' title='Somebody read my blog! More than once!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112877038982846876</id><published>2005-10-08T21:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T22:11:17.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does it take a disaster to reconcile?</title><content type='html'>Some time ago (ok around 4 years ago) I drifted apart from my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been friends since primary 1, since we were tenny weeny tots aka 7 years olds. We survived secondary school (diff schools) and junior college (also different) and part of uni life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along my 2nd year in uni I experienced the "greatest heartbreak" of my life. Looking back and now at my ex...wah lau!!! The man I married is a zillion times better! I love you darling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she also survived certain degree of setback in her studies. So while our common friends were all so concern about me because my break up showed in my sudden 10kg weight loss in 2 weeks. She on the other hand was neglected even though she was frustrated in her studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on to date this real BAD BOY short of taking drugs. Tattoos, long hair, school drop-out and everything. On the rebound ok? And she really wasn't too chirpy about it but then she never told me about it either. I heard this from another friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow in between those months, we just drifted apart and lost contact. We really DID NOT talk to each other. It was awkward for me. I did not know what to say to her and I just could not pick up the phone to call her even though I badly wanted to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought she was jealous about the attention friends were showing me instead of her and she didn't understand the pain I was going through. I tried very much wanting to support her through her problems but time and again I felt she just shut me out. The last straw was when I called her to confirm what time we were meeting the following day and she raised her voice at me. I stopped calling her after that. I was hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok to be fair, maybe her side of the story would be me being in my own world blah blah blah and not care for her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting to my point, be patient with me. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere early this year while I am still on my old church's mailing list and there was a prayer request for her father down with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;cancer (Stage 4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Cancer has 5 stages, stage 1 being the early stage and usually by stage 4, doctors would give the patient 6 more months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the computer screen for a long time. Speechless and numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so bad. She was my best friend. I have not been there for her. I didn't know. I had to find out via the email? Via the church's prayer request list? I want to pick up the phone and call her badly. I wanted so much to be there for her. To make myself feel better? Maybe. What will I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CB, "Hi. I heard. How are you?"&lt;br /&gt;Best friend,"Huh? Who is this?"&lt;br /&gt;CB," Errr, wrong number" (Hangs up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so pathetic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took the easy way out and just emailed her with the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will pray for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No how are you? No regards. No signing off with a name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know what to expect just that I was hurting inside feeling really bad. I have been so close to her family and I have not been there. What's wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days later she SMS me to say 9******* is her new number. It was a message to many people because it was addressed to "Dear people, This is my new number 9*******".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started sending her verses from the bible. It was my way of telling her I am there for her although we have not officially talk to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day finally, over MSN I asked her out for dinner. She agreed. I was excited to meet her again and at the same time scared. What do I say when I meet her? Does she hate me for not being there? 4 years of our lives passed by so fast and I don't know anything at all concerning her for the last 4 years except her father's cancer. How?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD always has a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are best buds again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is as they say, history. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112877038982846876?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112877038982846876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112877038982846876&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112877038982846876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112877038982846876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/does-it-take-disaster-to-reconcile.html' title='Does it take a disaster to reconcile?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112816061202230807</id><published>2005-10-08T12:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T12:17:11.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Want to meet my Ex</title><content type='html'>I have quite a number of ex-bfs before. Not that I am drop dead gorgeous. You know some are just the couple of months type in school. Those that you thought without him you would die and never be the same again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn. Seriously time heals EVERYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is this guy whom I used to date and never saw him again. Never bumping into him on the streets. The rest of my exes, somehow I have met them shopping in Orhard, taking advanced theory test in the same room, at a hotel lobby, at my office and one even overseas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this one which I have a soft spot for, I just never met him. It's been almost 10 years and not once! I guess I missed him especially is because of the circumstances that we met. It was really pretty bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was my primary 1 classmate and you know how they line you up in school according to height? Yup we were already holding hands in parimary 1! Gush!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned out to be a friend of a friend of a friend in my later teenage years and we got together. By that time he was already a good head taller than me. A very sweet young man. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just curious about him now that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is he working as? Is he married? Is he happy? That sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have faith that I will "bump" into him someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hope that day I brushed my hair and teeth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112816061202230807?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112816061202230807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112816061202230807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816061202230807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816061202230807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/want-to-meet-my-ex.html' title='Want to meet my Ex'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112874282724286462</id><published>2005-10-08T11:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T11:40:27.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Been busy</title><content type='html'>Have been bogged down by work. My body is aching all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh I need a massage. Badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed by  how much literature that other bloggers churn out day in day out. I mean do't they have a full time job or something? Except Xiaxue lah, cos she proclaimed blogging is her full time job mah. I still need to hurl my ass out to pay for my bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Saturday and I still need to go to the office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.#$^**$#!#%^&amp;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112874282724286462?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112874282724286462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112874282724286462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112874282724286462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112874282724286462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/been-busy.html' title='Been busy'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112818807055928661</id><published>2005-10-02T01:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T01:38:34.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bali Blast</title><content type='html'>1.26am : At least 32 dead, 101 injured. (CNA bottom scroller) &lt;a href="http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/afp_asiapacific/view/171276/1/.html"&gt;CNA news&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be thousands mourning for the 32 dead. And I am sure there will be more deaths reported later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a sad sad day for many and ANGER for many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will sleep, wake up, go to church and pray. Probably will feel better about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was planning to go Bali for a holiday soon. Forget it. I am scared shitless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their economy is going south after this I am sure. And many more will suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the world really coming to an end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112818807055928661?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112818807055928661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112818807055928661&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112818807055928661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112818807055928661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/bali-blast.html' title='Bali Blast'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112817646803655996</id><published>2005-10-01T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T23:05:37.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shite 4th time!</title><content type='html'>Was afraid to ps halfway through my run and at 9pm my over protective parents banned me to run on the main road pavement, so I turned to the old trusty gym at my place. In case of emergency, the toilet is 10 steps away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lyrics007.com/Black%20Eyed%20Peas%20Lyrics/Let%27s%20Get%20It%20Started%20Lyrics.html"&gt;Running, runningning, running, runningning,&lt;/a&gt; to the beat of &lt;a href="http://www.blackeyedpeas.com/"&gt;Black Eyed Peas&lt;/a&gt;! (Great concert by the way!Have I ever mentioned Taboo is a real ladie's man? Swoon!) 5km and counting 5.1, 5.2, 5.3... I feel good man! POWER! I can do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then,&lt;br /&gt;"growl growl"...ass bubbling...ass bubbling somemore...Ass muscles clenched tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man! "they" are at the customs again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wah lau! Again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112817646803655996?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112817646803655996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112817646803655996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112817646803655996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112817646803655996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/shite-4th-time.html' title='Shite 4th time!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112816335807392044</id><published>2005-10-01T18:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T20:43:00.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Virgin at 30?</title><content type='html'>Went for my 3rd round just now and was reading HER WORLD. The Singapore's version of The Women's Bible. Products you see but cannot afford, stories you hear but cannot imagine it's true, especially those stories of women sacrificing/attempting suicide/all-out-for her family stories. Makes me want to cringe sometimes. IMHO, love is one thing, IRRATIONAL love is another esp if the man in question is a jerk/asshole/LJB/loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok the above is not the point of my post. My point is I came across this article about Virgins 30 years old and above and they are mighty proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my friends are not virgins and they are not 30 yet. Well, they are not exactly 18 either ok? How do I know? Once in a while I do the "Are you a Virgin?" question after one too many rounds of Hoegarden just for laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replies of VIRGINS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CB: Are you a virgin?&lt;br /&gt;Virgin: YES lah. Wah lau!&lt;br /&gt;CB: Are you 100% positive sure?&lt;br /&gt;Virgin: YES! YES! YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replies of DE-FLOWERED once upon a time Virgins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CB: Are you a virgin?&lt;br /&gt;DFV: Why you ask?&lt;br /&gt;CB: Are you?&lt;br /&gt;DFV: Huh? (Pretending not to understand the question)&lt;br /&gt;CB: Please lah! You sure not virgin because virgins will very fast say they are virgins. Am I right?&lt;br /&gt;DFV: "Shocked look". (esp those who go to Church and somewhat religious men will at this stage turn a rich shade of royal purple)&lt;br /&gt;CB: HAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHAH (Smirk look)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I get a kick asking people that question. Maybe it's because I am bored or a real big bully or maybe just pathetic but these are my friends not some strangers I meet 2 mins before and therefore ....hey i don't have to justify my every other move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why these people so shy? Beats me? The asian culture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I one? I am married what do you think? I am not waiting for to be immaculately conceived ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Virgins at 30 and beyond? I only know 1 so far(kowtow). Maybe I am hanging with the wrong crowd and these people are just plain horny and experimentive. Whatever it is I salute those who somehow can be "pure" against all evil temptations and keep their "V" thingy until they say "I do".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT please don't die as one can?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112816335807392044?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112816335807392044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112816335807392044&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816335807392044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112816335807392044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/virgin-at-30.html' title='Virgin at 30?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112815895300389783</id><published>2005-10-01T17:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T17:29:13.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shite attack!</title><content type='html'>Aiyoh. Feeling weak. Been to the toilet 2 times already can feel the 3rd round coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the feeling. You are sitting at the computer surfing innocently and suddenly it feels like "they" are at the "customs" and all you need to do is chop "their" passport, remove the barrier and "they" will flood through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you feel"aaahhhhhh" and can release your ass muscles again. Shiok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not diarrhea, just super loose bowels today. Maybe I have been drinking one too many carrot juice that my dad makes. Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How? I want and need to go running leh. 6km at least. What if I feel the call of nature "orh eh or eh orh" and I need to go? Shite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh...I need to go again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112815895300389783?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112815895300389783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112815895300389783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112815895300389783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112815895300389783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/shite-attack.html' title='Shite attack!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112799106099632609</id><published>2005-10-01T13:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T13:50:47.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So many thoughts but all disorganized</title><content type='html'>I am thinking too much....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once I have written more than my brain's capacity can take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even in college have I been more interested in plotting my thoughts on paper or software.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need sleep...serious deep sleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time now 1.50pm...Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112799106099632609?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112799106099632609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112799106099632609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112799106099632609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112799106099632609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/so-many-thoughts-but-all-disorganized.html' title='So many thoughts but all disorganized'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112813945488452681</id><published>2005-10-01T13:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T13:46:27.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old friends?</title><content type='html'>I have just received a testimony (you know those in Friendster) from an old friend. Lost contact after I left college and suddenly on my Friendster she congratulates me for getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How she knew? My status is still -  In a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe because I u/l this cool black/white pic of me in a gown and nobody would wear a gown for nothing these days. I mean not like I am some socialite in tatler or something right? Plus the fact that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am of very very marrigable age&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have been dating some time&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some kid sister posted asking if I was getting married and I couldn't delete it because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. (I mean she even called me up to say she posted something leh...later she cry and her mummy beat me how?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, turns out this friend is also married and she is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy happier then I was. (Noticed the WAS? NOW I am happy, delirious even ok? Stop judging me!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I would love to meet all my old friends whom I lost contact with. Gosh, it would be nice to just catch up. Why do people drift away? Sometimes we are so preoccupied with our own lives and we make new friends and old ones are forgotton? Through all those laughter and tears and we always seem to drift away?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear God, I pray to meet up with my long lost friends soon...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112813945488452681?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112813945488452681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112813945488452681&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112813945488452681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112813945488452681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/10/old-friends.html' title='Old friends?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112807285715138463</id><published>2005-09-30T17:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T17:36:21.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If only employers know what we are doing during office hours</title><content type='html'>Blogging too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosipping on MSN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Checking e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surfing net aka online shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I have done any work today. Nothing. The most task I have done today is pick up the phone to talk to this guy from the other department to get some info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CB: Hello? May I speak to Mr xxx?&lt;br /&gt;Operator: He is on (grunt) leave today.&lt;br /&gt;CB: Oh? Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh?! I just realised my initials sounds so porn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok can't get the guy which means cannot progress on this document and therefore nothing really much to do and it's a Friday don't really feel like starting anything....hmmmm....let's read &lt;a href="http://www.rockson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rockson's&lt;/a&gt; blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahah! &lt;a href="http://www.rockson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rockson&lt;/a&gt; is so vulgar! But I bet he is some kind of genius earning 20K per month writing the blog just for kicks. Maybe he is even Colin (surname?) of &lt;a href="http://www.talkingcock.com"&gt;talkingcock.com&lt;/a&gt;. Came across &lt;a href="http://www.rockson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rockson's&lt;/a&gt; via other person's blog and My GAWD! I shouldn't be reading it...I have been writing to my friends on MSN using his LJ, CB, KNNBCCB language. And it's hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother would die of shame if she knew her daughter is so chor lor. But then hor my mother also said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't sit with your legs open or else cannot get husband.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't laugh so loud girl or else men see also scared. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't talk so much, men like quiet and sweet girls. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't simply go out other men so often, the good boys would think you are cheap.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't get so dark, men like fair girls&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't.........ZZzzzZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzz.....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No leh ma, I also got peole want to marry me leh? Does that mean my husband is not a man? But you like him very much right? You like him very much because you think he is a nice "man" or finally somebody can take your free loading daughter!?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I also did all of the things you tell me not to do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I also do all the things my BOSS warns us not to do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok Friday already and look it's 5.31pm. Ok a trip to the ladies =10 mins. Stop by J's desk and ask some inane q's = 5 mins. Gather my things = 5 mins Last check of emails = 5 mins Say byebye to all my MSN friends = 5 mins. WAH 6pm liao...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Going...going...gone!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112807285715138463?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112807285715138463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112807285715138463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112807285715138463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112807285715138463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/if-only-employers-know-what-we-are.html' title='If only employers know what we are doing during office hours'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112806706462862126</id><published>2005-09-30T15:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T15:57:44.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am so KUM!!!</title><content type='html'>Damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to change the template for my blog, still playing with all the features. And before I read properly the  WARNING: blahblahblah.....I clicked OK  and SHIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my other add ons disappear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am too bo chup to add my POLL BOX...not like anybody comes by here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am surprise people actually come into my site and it's not me ok? I disabled the hit counter if my cookies were detected on the site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are they? Anyway might just be passer-bys reading blogs randomly....hmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok! Not changing my  template again, still like this the best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112806706462862126?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112806706462862126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112806706462862126&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112806706462862126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112806706462862126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-am-so-kum.html' title='I am so KUM!!!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112806438184438870</id><published>2005-09-30T15:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T15:13:39.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something's wrong....</title><content type='html'>with my blog that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Test test.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112806438184438870?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112806438184438870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112806438184438870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112806438184438870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112806438184438870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/somethings-wrong.html' title='Something&apos;s wrong....'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112787487691821671</id><published>2005-09-30T14:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T14:30:45.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid people annoy me</title><content type='html'>There are people out there who would do anything thing for love and that simply annoys me man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell are they thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The era of "I will do anything for you! Climb moutain, Cross Sea. Do cow do horse!. Give you all my money no problem as long as you stay by my side and we will have love to contend with and that we wiill be the envy of the rest of the world!" is sooooo soooo sooooo passe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I will stay by your side and even if you kill me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please take all my money! I will become a prostitute to earn some more just for you! And I will also work 4 others day jobs as we ll!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will sacrifice EVERYTHING for you, whatever ymy family and friends say I don't care. How would they know? They don't understand the love and passion I have! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No I believe whatever he tells me and he would NEVER lie to me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day they come crying to you because he:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beat her&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheat on her&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Steal all her money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beat, cheat and steal all her money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What happened to pure common sense??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If your friends tell you something is wrong, something is wrong! You think all your friends sour grapes he is so good arh? Please lah! Men are a dime a zillion......the Good ones are just somehow not the ones we are warning you about ok? It's the weird and BAD aka Pretend to be pig eat tiger types we are telling you to stay away from ok??!!!???&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know this post doesn't make much sense.....neither does some of my friends....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112787487691821671?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112787487691821671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112787487691821671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787487691821671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787487691821671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/stupid-people-annoy-me.html' title='Stupid people annoy me'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112799216687453630</id><published>2005-09-29T19:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T19:09:26.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowboy Caleb - I am your fan.</title><content type='html'>I think I am already a fan of &lt;a href="http://cowboycaleb.liquidblade.com/"&gt;Cowboy Caleb&lt;/a&gt;, the so called "one of the most respected, prominent, popular and enigmatic bloggers in Singapore".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out his very own &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cowboy_Caleb"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt; created by his fan aka lowfatmilk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My God! This blogging thing is really getting interesting. How come in my school going days we were only subjected to the boring "sports", "choir", "debate club" as ECAs. Now I heard they call it CCAs? Gosh I must be old...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, &lt;a href="http://cowboycaleb.liquidblade.com/"&gt;Cowboy Caleb&lt;/a&gt;, I am your fan! Don't worry I not stalking you nor fantasying you morphing into another one my the OTHER re: 1st posting, just a fan reading your stuff :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112799216687453630?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112799216687453630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112799216687453630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112799216687453630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112799216687453630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/cowboy-caleb-i-am-your-fan.html' title='Cowboy Caleb - I am your fan.'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112797773343642141</id><published>2005-09-29T15:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T15:11:32.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging is taking up all my time</title><content type='html'>Seriously, I have got to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted to not only blogging but to the other "add ons". As you can tell I have a hit counter and also a mini poll! Who is going to poll anyway? Why do I even need them for in the first place? It's not like I have people accessing my blog all the time by telling my friends all about it? I still want to stay anonymous because of my dark dark secret (dark enough for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need an avenue to vent my inner thoughts and get the heck out. Return to Mother Earth and be a normal human being instead of always fantasizing and end up as a celestial being floating somewhere with no turning back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am so intrigued by all the other things I can do to my blog that I can't stop surfing the bloggers site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need to do some work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112797773343642141?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112797773343642141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112797773343642141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112797773343642141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112797773343642141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/blogging-is-taking-up-all-my-time.html' title='Blogging is taking up all my time'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112797671270504317</id><published>2005-09-29T14:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T14:55:53.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once again I am over the OTHER guy...</title><content type='html'>Well just like my friend predicted...."Aiyoh, xxx is cute lah but your husband is even better what, and guess what?? give you 3 days and you sian already."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Plus you know, at least you have been through all the ups and downs with your husband, with xxx later he turn out to be creep how???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's all so true! I am not IN LOVE with the OTHER guy...I am just infatuated and only for a fleeting moment that I had some kind of fantasy of "what if's". (yes, snap out of it!!!) But the real MAN before me is the one that will stand by me till death to us part and I already got him. Yeah! Counting my lucky stars....1 star....2 stars....3 stars....4 stars....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen my hubby for a 2 weeks now because straight after our wedding he had to go overseas for his work. But now I miss him very much and I only want him and him only. I LOVE YOU.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew, I got over the whole saga of "How? I am in love with another man?" It wasn't even that serious to begin with. Like I said I am not IN LOVE....crush? Infatuated? Seriously going through PMS? Hormonal imbalance? HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good! Now I can return to my normal life, be happy and not so confused anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! (victory sign!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112797671270504317?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112797671270504317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112797671270504317&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112797671270504317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112797671270504317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/once-again-i-am-over-other-guy.html' title='Once again I am over the OTHER guy...'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112787508699377637</id><published>2005-09-28T17:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T18:25:17.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends who only look for you when they need something</title><content type='html'>Its annoying when you thought you were such great friends and when life goes all well for them , they start to forget about you. You can ask them out for dinner via a group email and such and the reply would be short and lame, "I am busy with "something"."I have too much to do" OR the ultimate reply....they don't even bother to to come up with something lame and ignore the email/sms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@#*$$$!!!@$$??!!!WHAT THE???*&amp;%#$???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have one such friend. She is totally self absorbed, only talking about herself and her love at the moment. If she is settled in the latest relationship, she will disappear from the face of the earth. Anything that happens to you, she will be the last to know or maybe she won't even get to know because she doesn't even bother to keep in touch with you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time she resurface?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fight with the BF should do the trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long she would come calling and crying about her latest instalments of fights with the BF.....yaadaayaadaa....whatever....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then after that "POOF" just like David Copperfield (OK I am from that era, not David Blain's) disappears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok since I am on a roll let me list her not-so-admired-and-irritating points:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS late. Late not 5 mins, 10 mins but 1/2 hour to a couple hours kind. And she does not even feel remorseful and apologize sincerely. Late even on birthdays and weddings!! WTF??!!??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fail to turn up on said outing- YES more than once. A gf sent an email to everyone and officially kicked her out from the circle of trust but she didn't even care to beg for mercy nor reply the email. We are too soft hearted and thus allow her in again ...have yet to hear her say SORRY though.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Self absorbed- As kindly describe by a mutual friend. Totally in her own world. Her problems are the biggest. Her relationships are the centre of the Earth. Whatever planet she is on is bad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;DIVAish- I don't understand how she could chatise her friends for not eating the food she wants or going the places she wants to go or sitting the table she wants to sit??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Plasticky- Anyone watch Mean Girls starring Lindsay Lohan? Sometimes when I confide in her, she seems to really care but on most days you can't depend on her to be your lifeline because...Re point 2.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Makes lame jokes- Seriously you are not funny ok? I can't keep up with your brand of humour. Especially not when it is on me? Geddit?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know why we are still friends after more than a century. (It's that long!!!)&lt;/p&gt;But I do know that when she is in her NICE self she is such a darling. She doesn't bitch often about other girls somehow and fun to go partying with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT friendship is so much more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect, understanding, making time for others are the foundation of great friendships. Your physical being may be there but we know you're a thousand miles away on a cloud somewhere...WE KNOW&gt;&gt;&gt; cos we are not stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I treasure her friendship on her "NICE" days and it would be more than nice that one day she UNDERSTANDS that friends are not her beck and call when she is in trouble or simply bored and need company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single day!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112787508699377637?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112787508699377637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112787508699377637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787508699377637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787508699377637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/friends-who-only-look-for-you-when.html' title='Friends who only look for you when they need something'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112788878361552234</id><published>2005-09-28T14:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T14:29:40.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Jesus!!!</title><content type='html'>Jars of clay&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Collapsing was much softer&lt;br /&gt;Still falling always hurt&lt;br /&gt;Only after sensing your love&lt;br /&gt;For always ever burned&lt;br /&gt;You justified my folly&lt;br /&gt;My affluent disguise&lt;br /&gt;Removed revealing nothing&lt;br /&gt;Yet nothing unforgiven lies&lt;br /&gt;Unforgiven lies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me like you&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me the way you do&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me like you&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me the way, the way that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To touch the rose unfearful&lt;br /&gt;Is to meet the thorn&lt;br /&gt;And pierce the heart’s emotion&lt;br /&gt;And feel the emptiness no more&lt;br /&gt;Emptiness no more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me like you&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me the way you do&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me like you&lt;br /&gt;No one loves me the way, the way that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take some time to realize I’ve fallen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112788878361552234?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112788878361552234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112788878361552234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788878361552234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788878361552234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/thank-you-jesus.html' title='Thank you Jesus!!!'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112788451498294634</id><published>2005-09-28T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T14:16:32.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging is GREAT for the soul</title><content type='html'>After pouring out my heart and my thoughts since last night through blogging, I actually feel so much happier and lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days I have not been able to sit down and do any REAL work except to think about my own issues. Surf the web, idle chit chat with friends and just writing on the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel much better now. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging is great for the soul. It's like writing a diary except you won't have to worry about your nosey mother cleaning your room and reading it. Or your husband chancing upon it when you are careless leaving it lying around a la Bridget Jones!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Jesus! Thank you for the Internet! Thank you for blogspot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112788451498294634?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112788451498294634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112788451498294634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788451498294634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788451498294634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/blogging-is-great-for-soul.html' title='Blogging is GREAT for the soul'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112788696729986068</id><published>2005-09-28T13:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T13:56:07.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To my darling HUSBAND</title><content type='html'>ALWAYS ON MY MIND&lt;br /&gt;Elvis Presley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn’t treat you&lt;br /&gt;Quite as good as I should have&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn’t love you&lt;br /&gt;Quite as often as I could have&lt;br /&gt;Little things I should have said and done&lt;br /&gt;I just never took the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;You were always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died&lt;br /&gt;Give me, give me one more chance&lt;br /&gt;To keep you satisfied, satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn’t hold you&lt;br /&gt;All those lonely, lonely times&lt;br /&gt;And I guess I never told you&lt;br /&gt;I’m so happy that you’re mine&lt;br /&gt;If I make you feel second best&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I’m sorry I was blind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;You were always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died&lt;br /&gt;Give me, give me one more chance&lt;br /&gt;To keep you satisfied, satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little things&lt;br /&gt;I should have said and done&lt;br /&gt;I just never took the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;You are always on my mind&lt;br /&gt;You are always on my mind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112788696729986068?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112788696729986068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112788696729986068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788696729986068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788696729986068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/to-my-darling-husband.html' title='To my darling HUSBAND'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112788644497354049</id><published>2005-09-28T13:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T13:48:58.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My words to the Other guy</title><content type='html'>NATASHA BEDINGFIELD LYRICS&lt;br /&gt;These Words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words are my own&lt;br /&gt;Threw some chords together&lt;br /&gt;The combination D-E-F&lt;br /&gt;Is who I am, is what I do&lt;br /&gt;And I was gonna lay it down for you&lt;br /&gt;Try to focus my attention&lt;br /&gt;But I feel so A-D-D&lt;br /&gt;I need some help, some inspiration&lt;br /&gt;(But it's not coming easily)&lt;br /&gt;Whoah oh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find the magic&lt;br /&gt;Trying to write a classic&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know, don't you know, don't you know?&lt;br /&gt;Waste-bin full of paper&lt;br /&gt;Clever rhymes, see you later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words are my own&lt;br /&gt;From my heart flow&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you&lt;br /&gt;There's no other way&lt;br /&gt;To better say&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read some Byron, Shelly and Keats&lt;br /&gt;Recited it over a Hip-Hop beat&lt;br /&gt;I'm having trouble saying what I mean&lt;br /&gt;With dead poets and drum machines&lt;br /&gt;I know I had some studio time booked&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't find a killer hook&lt;br /&gt;Now you've gone &amp;amp; raised the bar right up&lt;br /&gt;Nothing I write is ever good enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words are my own&lt;br /&gt;From my heart flow&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you&lt;br /&gt;There's no other way&lt;br /&gt;To better say&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting off my stage&lt;br /&gt;The curtains pull away&lt;br /&gt;No hyperbole to hide behind&lt;br /&gt;My naked soul exposes&lt;br /&gt;Whoah.. oh.. oh.. oh.. Whoah.. oh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find the magic&lt;br /&gt;Trying to write a classic&lt;br /&gt;Waste-bin full of paper&lt;br /&gt;Clever rhymes, see you later&lt;br /&gt;These words are my own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my heart flow&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you&lt;br /&gt;That's all I got to say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't think of a better way,&lt;br /&gt;And that's all I've got to say,&lt;br /&gt;I love you,&lt;br /&gt;is that okay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112788644497354049?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112788644497354049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112788644497354049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788644497354049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112788644497354049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-words-to-other-guy.html' title='My words to the Other guy'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112787660803103749</id><published>2005-09-28T13:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T13:37:39.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I understand why people cheat</title><content type='html'>One of my married friends recently, over a coffee rendevous, blurted out she was seeing another man. My jaw dropped, eyes widened, head spinning trying very hard to comprehend the whole situation she had got herself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind was a blank. Words escaped me. I was in total shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know those cartoons you see with the characters in shock and there is NOTHING in their bubble above their heads and eyes popping out, yes, that was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly burst out half laughing half in shock "OH MY GOD!!!" Eyes even wider than before and followed by more jaw dropping moments and silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What!?! Who!?! When!?! How!?! Why!?! Are you crazy!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing that affected me the most is the fact that I UNDERSTAND where she was coming from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were times (read: plenty) when I contemplated to do the same thing to my husband, then boyfriend. Not that I don't love him, just sometimes he cannot give me the excitement I crave. He claims to be too tired (read: all the time) to do "it". I know for a fact he is not cheating on me. His personality doesn't allow him to. I know he loves me through other romantic gestures just not in the bedroom though and I feel frustrated at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It leads me to look at other men. One in particular I have often wondered if we could have a "f*** buddy" relationship. Nothing more. In those times I understand what it means when the cheating man tells his wife" It's just sex." Seriously I love my husband but there are just some things he cannot satisfy me. I blame him for driving me to think like that. Selfish of me to think this way? I don't think there is a right or wrong way to think. To the married "faithful people" out there, you may be disgusted with me but if he would just be more intimate with me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I chickened out and never cheated on him although there were plenty of chances to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fight with my conscience was too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conscience triumphs over lust. Girls loses fight. Girl marries Boy. Girl talks to Boy about problem. Boy promises to do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl and Boy live happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl can only hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112787660803103749?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112787660803103749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112787660803103749&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787660803103749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112787660803103749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-understand-why-people-cheat.html' title='I understand why people cheat'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112784673236500497</id><published>2005-09-28T02:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T02:49:09.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope my identity will never be found out</title><content type='html'>Most blogs are written by people who identify themselves. They hope their friends would read their blogs, post their pics and maybe end of the day have a good laugh at themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those who dreamed of having their blogs becoming famous and maybe show off their writing skills as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is my kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope my identity will never be found out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is pathetic but IMHO blogging gives me the space to write what I need to vent without ever having to be judged and maybe even condemned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody have their own very dark secrets and I have my skeletons as well. Some things are not meant to be exposed. You can't tell friends everything. Even the BESTEST friend would judge you a little. God will judge me when the time comes. At the moment I want to stay a saint or at least try being one to the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hypocritical of me? I guess so, but who isn't? Who would blog with their real name and their real thoughts online? Seriously real, deep, dark horrible thoughts..... Bullshit to those who say they will. Nobody is perfect and nobody wants the world to know how imperfect they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112784673236500497?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112784673236500497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112784673236500497&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112784673236500497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112784673236500497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-hope-my-identity-will-never-be-found.html' title='I hope my identity will never be found out'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17175193.post-112783413807706624</id><published>2005-09-28T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T01:47:32.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do people get married?</title><content type='html'>What happens after you get married and falls in love with another? The point is you are not in lust but there is something that the other person has that your own partner does not have? Does your heart ache for the other but yet feel guilty because of the vows you have made to your spouse? It does not mean you do not love your spouse anymore or even less than before. Something about the other person just seems to make you brighten up instantly. You just want to know the other party better, see the other party more often and maybe somewhere deep down you think how you should met the other party earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why does the human race want/need to get married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am married. In fact, recently made the jump from single to married status within seconds of saying "I DO". Now suddenly on all surveys, government questionnaires, lucky draw coupons and so on, I find myself ticking the tiny little married box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my husband very much. (weird now calling him that, just a few weeks ago he was still my "boyfriend".) He has gone thru my moments of madness, bouts of crying, series of unreasonable demands and yet still wants me and loves me dearly. I cannot imagine anyone else who would want to put up with me and yet still supports me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him dearly as well and cannot imagine life without him. How I know? My heart breaks into a million pieces when we fight. I lose sleep over him when he ignores me. My tears flow freely when he rebukes me. Who or what else would have power to create such emotions within me except for the ONE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the tricky part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this guy out there. I have a hugh crush on him and him ONLY. He does not know it nor does anybody else. I can't tell anybody. I am afraid of the repercussions. I am confused. But I can't help it. Everytime I see him my heart does a little dance on it's own. I feel a little floaty when I see him. His smile makes me melt. Sometimes when I look at him and he looks right back I can feel this strong connection. The communication that exists without words. I am fairly sure this is a one sided affair on my part. Sometimes I even wonder if he knows my lil secret. He is a gentleman and would not expose me but there are times I wish he knew and reciprocate the feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have been feeling this way since DAY 1 of our acquaintance. It is not a one off feeling for me. Then I was attached, he was attached. Shortly he was single and I was wondering if we would ever have a chance together. But I never broke off with my boyfriend and then I said "Yes" to his proposal and now am married to a very sweet man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I made the decision to marry by saying "Yes" and some would say I am being very selfish by thinking of another man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so so sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feelings of a human being are so complex at times. Is it possible to love 2 persons at the same time? Maybe my husband is also in the same situation as me? Secretly, if he is, it makes me feel less guilty but I will probably punish him till the end of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me selfish? Yes. Me feelings complex? Definitely. Me regret marrying my husband? No. Me telling the other man about my feelings? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why did I get married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember why now....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17175193-112783413807706624?l=complexbeing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/feeds/112783413807706624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17175193&amp;postID=112783413807706624&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112783413807706624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17175193/posts/default/112783413807706624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://complexbeing.blogspot.com/2005/09/why-do-people-get-married.html' title='Why do people get married?'/><author><name>complexbeing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07364889378534715107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
