<?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-5008370490652953423</id><updated>2011-08-12T05:54:39.910+08:00</updated><category term='My wish is to change your life.'/><category term='27th; the official'/><category term='Expect The Unexpected'/><title type='text'>My Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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>150</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-7642402169203560927</id><published>2011-08-12T05:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T05:54:39.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need You</title><content type='html'>I realised that I'm not proving to you that I love you. So this is what I'm gonna do. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not letting you go this easy. Hell no. You've been a part of my daily life. Everywhere I go, everything I do reminds me of you. Every single moment that you're not here, I feel something missing. What makes me think that I can forget you? What makes me thing that I can let you go that easy? What makes you think you can move on with your life without me? What makes you think they can stop us from loving each other?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to prove to you that everything's gonna change. You want the old me. I want the old you too. So let's start afresh. Since you're having national exams next month, I'll stop my shit. I'll be the old self that you want. I still have so much plan to do with you. I need you to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't worry about those girls out there. I don't see any of them like how I look at you. You're the most beautiful I've seen. You're still the bucuk-but-wangi girl that I love to smell. You're still beautiful when you just woke up with your messy hair. You're still the sexiest when you sleep. Most important, you're the only woman that I love with all my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just don't want any 'cinta 3 segi' if we're back together. It makes much more complicated in the future. I really need you to understand this. BUT if I'm wasting my time, tell me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want you to make the wrong decision for leaving me again. I need another chance to prove to you that I'm worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ps. I love you. I trust you but I'm still a little paranoid that he'll fall for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7642402169203560927?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7642402169203560927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7642402169203560927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7642402169203560927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7642402169203560927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-need-you.html' title='I Need You'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7821804391766047521</id><published>2011-08-12T00:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T01:01:21.354+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Officially Over, I Hope Not.</title><content type='html'>So its has been a roller coaster ride of the both of us. But its now all over for us. Its sad to end it this way. How much I hold on to you, all those pain I felt. All that times just went down the drain.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When its at the top, it feels like we're really on top. Laughing our ass off and stuff. The truth is I feel different with you when you're happy. Yes, its nice to see you smiling widely. But there's something that hit me hard and I always covered my tears away. "Mak kau giler", punching me, cursing and swearing. It has always makes me feel I'm like him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe this is why I treated you different lately. I'm trying my best to throw that habit away. I really want this to last. Maybe you too change in someways. You have more friends now. Its not like how we used to. We used to have time for each other. Yknow, we used to meet at any day, any time cause it was just us against the world. Sadly, it has changed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was wrong for saying I've got something on with another. I just wanted to ignore and see if you really think I'm like other guys. It was just a normal couple fight. You cried and told your friends that I cheated. Now they believe that and they hated me for hurting you. They didn't know that sometimes, in fact everytime I'm hurt by your actions. They know nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's this guy who wants you to stop getting hurt. He's trying to change your lifestyle. I shouldn't have fight for you cause it got much worst. I should have let you go. Let you be happy. I'm really a burden to you, that's what your friends think. I can't have hopes that we'll be back together cause your friends don't like it and you're listening to what they say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give him a chance. He can treat you right. I love you and will always do. #FG&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7821804391766047521?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7821804391766047521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7821804391766047521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7821804391766047521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7821804391766047521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-officially-over-i-hope-not.html' title='Its Officially Over, I Hope Not.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-9003888135152206620</id><published>2011-08-06T03:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T04:12:08.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Cruelty II</title><content type='html'>This has got to stop. Bullying. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has come to a certain point that I had enough of people stepping on my head. I've been tolerating this since I was a kid. My parents controlled my life till I was at the age of 15. I was kept out from the wild. I lived under the rock. Not knowing the people around me, how they behave, what kind of people are there. They just made me study my ass every single day. All my life was just books. So I was outdated about teenage life. I hated school cause everyday, there's always this person who made me his slave. Following everywhere he went, scared the shit out of me. None knew about this until today I let this out. Everybody in school called me "Dan Kental". Even that name was on everyone's contact list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to blend in. Thinking that I would get respect if I were more cooler. And luckily it did. The bullying stops. But the thought of me being "kental" was still there cause I was different. I'm sensitive, weak, too kind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till this day, I'm still "kental" in everyone's eyes. I was too kind to everyone. Did their favour, once I had enough, tried to stood for my rights, everyone pissed off, I became sensitive and then I was weak. So standing for my rights didn't do any favour for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For an instant, today. Me and her argued on twitter. Yes, I do admit I'm spamming's everyone's timeline. Then there's this guy getting all pissed off cause he's irritated. So I tweeted, "You're welcome to unfollow, that goes out to everybody". Its so simple, just click the unfollow button but he became all pissed off at me, wanna act as if he want's to beat me up. So I gave him my address, came down and talk. But I was too weak to win him. I didn't let out everything. Kept quiet and lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are some of the reasons why I like to be alone. So I don't feel left out. This is my life. Always sad deep down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-9003888135152206620?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/9003888135152206620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=9003888135152206620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9003888135152206620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9003888135152206620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2011/08/lifes-cruelty-ii.html' title='Life&apos;s Cruelty II'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2997930658381731107</id><published>2011-08-05T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T23:41:37.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Cruelty</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am back. Cause there's no other way I could express my feelings to. I tried on twitter, but failed. I felt everyone's irritated with my tweets. And yes, eventhough you say "My tweet, my say", there's still people who'll get annoyed. Tumblr on the other hand. I can't express how exactly I feel. Tumblr is where I show my needs. What I want in life, mostly what kind of girls I do want. I'm not an asshole. I just want her to know that being skinny isn't a problem cause I really like skinny girls. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, there's no way I really could tell my shits to. I've got nobody to rely on. No shoulders to lean on. Cause I can't trust anyone yet. I tried to have friends, treated them special. But I didn't get the same treatment. I felt lonely. I felt I was nobody to everyone, that includes my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Parents don't even know their son. They didn't know how I feel. Every time when I'm home, I'll be in my bed. Bottling up my problems, my feelings, my tears. They'll be watching TV with their favourite son and I'll be in my room talking to myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a girl who I loved all my heart out. After almost 2 years knowing each other, she left me last year for another guy. My world crushed. She was all I had. She went around with another guy while I'm in my room crying my heart out for months. The pain was unbearable. Till one night I told myself that its time to move on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There she was, after 7 months waiting, she came back. And I open my heart for her. How could I forgot all the pain that she caused? I told myself, everybody makes a mistake and needs a second chance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 months later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was back to being alone. Nobody was beside me, not even her. Too busy with studies and friends while I'm here hoping to meet her everyday after work. No matter how tired I was, she's still my number 1. Things happen and it was over. She assumed that I had another. She made a fuss at twitter. And I was blamed for that. Because of this, I lost a lot of friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realised everyone has this one person to talk to. I was born to be alone. Just like my dad. Perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2997930658381731107?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2997930658381731107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2997930658381731107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2997930658381731107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2997930658381731107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2011/08/lifes-cruelty.html' title='Life&apos;s Cruelty'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1804578421384363562</id><published>2010-02-25T00:08:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T00:10:26.491+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagboard Updates.</title><content type='html'>There will be some tagboards confusion. I copied blogger's tagboard to my tumblr. I'm lazy to make a new tagboard. Sorry. Anyways, here's my tumblr. Kesian krg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FASHISON.TUMBLR.COM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1804578421384363562?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1804578421384363562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1804578421384363562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1804578421384363562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1804578421384363562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/02/tagboard-updates.html' title='Tagboard Updates.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-5811180007271156563</id><published>2010-02-19T14:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T15:08:45.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye!</title><content type='html'>I would like to thank blogger for the 2 years of posting memorable stuffs. Its been awhile since I last update cause I'm bored of blogger. I took almost 1hour to read back all the archives. Memorable. I was a jerk last time. I know I am. People make mistakes, so I did. I hurt people and I'm sorry I made your life miserable. I smiled and laugh at the past. Simply hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving on to tumblr now. So pandaipandai carik aku. But I'm still active at facebook, twitter. About this blog, I won't delelte it till end of this year. Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So goodbye everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5811180007271156563?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5811180007271156563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5811180007271156563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5811180007271156563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5811180007271156563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/02/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6549365132029306453</id><published>2010-02-09T00:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T01:42:22.511+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bad</title><content type='html'>I should have warn her earlier, before we got together. I'm no good in relationships. I'm just doing things that I had always wanted to do for someone that I really cherish most. Spent times with only you to Bukit Gombak, Clark Quay, Orchard, Bugis. Eating deep fried mars bars. The one you always craving for. Am I good enough for you? If no, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every mistakes I did, I'll say sorry. I'm not the guys that you had been in relationships with. Its very hard for me to say sorry to you. Trust me, its hard. Don't ever say 'Stop saying sorry'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your studies are important. The reason why I keep on asking you to study is because I don't you to follow my footsteps. Trust me, its hard when you get out of secondary life. I keep enforcing you on your maths. Why? I want you to take your O's. You have no choice but to pass your maths. I see something in you for the pass few weeks. You can do it. Believe in yourself. Why give up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few more days and its adik's birthday, then its gonna be Valentines' Day. For the first time, I'm doing this. Celebrate your sister's birthday. I can't wait to surprise her. And you're gonna be my first date to Valentines'. So please, tell me what's on your mind. Stop keeping things.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WgNEGn-s-Y0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WgNEGn-s-Y0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6549365132029306453?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6549365132029306453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6549365132029306453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6549365132029306453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6549365132029306453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-bad.html' title='My Bad'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2744583567906003721</id><published>2010-01-27T00:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T00:34:37.112+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 4th Month!</title><content type='html'>Happy 4th month baby! Wow, its fast. Well, abit slow for me uh. 4 month down, 8 more to go. Keep going strong. Thanks for the advise, thanks for caring, thanks for loving, thanks for everything. You showed me what's the meaning of love. You're the best. I LOVE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S18Zcr1uNQI/AAAAAAAAAbU/TeEMvkxt6oA/s1600-h/Us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S18Zcr1uNQI/AAAAAAAAAbU/TeEMvkxt6oA/s320/Us.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431087656227190018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;I'll blog more later on.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2744583567906003721?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2744583567906003721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2744583567906003721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2744583567906003721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2744583567906003721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-4th-month.html' title='Happy 4th Month!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S18Zcr1uNQI/AAAAAAAAAbU/TeEMvkxt6oA/s72-c/Us.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-7219135070107476011</id><published>2010-01-25T16:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T17:04:42.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss The Old Us</title><content type='html'>If you're reading this, please don't be mad. All I asked was just a day for the two of us. Just one day spending time together. Getting far away from studies, especially your art. All I wanted was us to be happy. When you told me that your love is fading, I'm scared and I'm doing my very best to keep you from leaving. But you seemed to be irritated, angry, moody with me whenever we talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happen to us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time we spent time together? It was at West Coast Park. That was months ago. I missed that. I miss you saying 'I love you' every minute to my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every word you say hurts me now.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Change please&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S11eieFqcbI/AAAAAAAAAbE/l7ROMbmE8F8/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S11eieFqcbI/AAAAAAAAAbE/l7ROMbmE8F8/s320/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430600671964066226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7219135070107476011?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7219135070107476011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7219135070107476011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7219135070107476011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7219135070107476011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-miss-old-us.html' title='I Miss The Old Us'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S11eieFqcbI/AAAAAAAAAbE/l7ROMbmE8F8/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-4235715777840806862</id><published>2010-01-25T08:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T08:29:34.021+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gosh, I'm Bored.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S1zlrqiPzOI/AAAAAAAAAa8/rQxc4omMHwE/s1600-h/Picture+%281%29%3D1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S1zlrqiPzOI/AAAAAAAAAa8/rQxc4omMHwE/s320/Picture+%281%29%3D1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430467789017042146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:180%;" &gt;She says she loves me and will never stop. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4235715777840806862?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4235715777840806862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4235715777840806862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4235715777840806862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4235715777840806862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/gosh-im-bored.html' title='Gosh, I&apos;m Bored.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S1zlrqiPzOI/AAAAAAAAAa8/rQxc4omMHwE/s72-c/Picture+%281%29%3D1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-7643295176404210603</id><published>2010-01-24T03:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T03:29:36.365+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Busy Week.</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of interest in blogging anymore. Twitter came up to my mind suddenly. I do have Twit account but I think I forgot my password. It was a long time ago since I last update my Twit. I think I'll carry on Twitting and blogging.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School has been great. But I hate the 1 hour break. Trust me, you don't have any idea what to do. After eating (which takes about 20!), we got nothing else to do. Smoke in canteen only takes less than 5 minutes. There's this one day, teacher released us freaking early, we had 2 HOURS OF BREAK!  Like WTF uh. I  hate long breaks man, seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I quit working long time ago. Sorry if I didn't post about it. 2 words can describe the manager, FUCKED UP.  Treating people like one dogs. You're a manager, so what? That doesn't mean you can just slack around looking at me doing stuff, that doesn't mean you don't have the humanity to help the old folks. And ohh, I heard about you and the supervisor. You lied to me. I just can't take the fact that you lied. You told me that he has other girls in his mind, then why he sound you? Then your reason for breaking up is that you're busy/tired? Every word you told me is a lie. I called it sweet-talking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Relationship is getting better. We fought under the rain. It was hilarious. We were like shooting for the next big film for Hollywood lar. But it was stupid of me, I was at fault. Sorry. I will never forget that day... cause she left a mark at my right arm. (: Fighting is not the end, it helps the relationship to be strong. She taught me that. Baby, 3 more days!! 3 more days!! I love you so much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7643295176404210603?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7643295176404210603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7643295176404210603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7643295176404210603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7643295176404210603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/busy-busy-week.html' title='Busy Busy Week.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8444251098428286886</id><published>2010-01-13T19:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T19:57:35.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need Fast Cash.</title><content type='html'>I don't have notes for my Electronics class. Everyone has it and I've not gotten any cause I have yet to pay $30 for it. I need fast cash. So I planned to sell away one of my items at home. Its an Adidas shoe. I wore it once to skate but it was too tight for me. So I left it in my room. Its hard for me to study in class without any notes. Without any notes, I won't have to right attitude to study anymore. So please, if you want it or you know anybody who wants it, do tag me. I'll call you. Don't worry about meet ups. I'm planning to sell it at $80. Can negotiate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black/White.&lt;br /&gt;Size; 9&lt;br /&gt;(no wear-outs)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0200eli2xI/AAAAAAAAAak/Re8_QIO4omU/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s1050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0200eli2xI/AAAAAAAAAak/Re8_QIO4omU/s320/dannysheckler%27s1050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426191939708050194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0205Jf2yBI/AAAAAAAAAas/NDH5AcmlLiQ/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s1051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0205Jf2yBI/AAAAAAAAAas/NDH5AcmlLiQ/s320/dannysheckler%27s1051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426192019946391570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0208hu1dgI/AAAAAAAAAa0/U6l_IgD4iW4/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s1052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0208hu1dgI/AAAAAAAAAa0/U6l_IgD4iW4/s320/dannysheckler%27s1052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426192077991278082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8444251098428286886?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8444251098428286886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8444251098428286886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8444251098428286886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8444251098428286886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-need-fast-cash.html' title='I Need Fast Cash.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/S0200eli2xI/AAAAAAAAAak/Re8_QIO4omU/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s1050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-1502347197610418811</id><published>2010-01-05T23:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T00:17:17.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Mature, Get The Full Story</title><content type='html'>Who believed in 'the boy who cried wolf'? What does that mean? How does that relate to true life? Simple, lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You believe in every word he said. You make yourself look stupid. Writing on blog, expressing your feelings like as if you're a girl who gets so angry when someone bitched about you. Ain't that right? Get the whole picture first. Get both sides story. If its true, then you have every right to blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell you the truth, I never had bother you peepos down there. So yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1502347197610418811?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1502347197610418811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1502347197610418811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1502347197610418811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1502347197610418811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/be-mature-get-full-story.html' title='Be Mature, Get The Full Story'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7597316032633628537</id><published>2010-01-03T02:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T03:11:59.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?!</title><content type='html'>If that post was for me, then a big middle finger should be pointing at you now. You've got it all wrong. Who told you that I called you mat? If you said anyone slacking under the void-deck is a mat, then I'm a mat too. Who told you that I've been bitching about you peepos down there? Dude, you're insane/paranoid. So you're saying that being broke is a stupid reason? Well, you can check my wallet now. Not even a single cent is inside it. So you're saying that I'm a lazy asshole cause I'm not finding work and I'm not even working, well walk around Jurong Point and try to see if there's a familiar face that you see working his ass off eventhough he's still sick. Yes, my friends here are much better than yours cause they're much more matured than you peepos down there. All you think is fighting over one small matter. Friends here are one year younger than you peepos. Yet, their brains are much more matured. So what if I weren't promoted to Sec 5? Does that mean that you're smarter? So what if you're smarter, like I'd care. Oh yeah, try coming down to Jurong everyday. Lets see if you still have the 'jiwer' to keep coming down. You're 17 this year, not 7. So be more matured. Have the brains of a young man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that post wasn't for me, well I'm sorry cause I'm hurt by what you said every word in your blog. They seem to be meant for me. Being posted to ITE. Not welcome there. Being broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going to say this one more time and this will be the last. I'll be glad to have a friend. I'll share secrets, I'll be the tissue that you need. But once you disrespect me, you can walk out of the door. Fuckers won't be entertained. Aku boleh hidup tanpa kawan seperti kamu semua.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7597316032633628537?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7597316032633628537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7597316032633628537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7597316032633628537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7597316032633628537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/huh.html' title='Huh?!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2406089829420742868</id><published>2010-01-02T01:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T01:57:37.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Of 2009</title><content type='html'>2009 has been ups and downs, but mostly downs. After I found Love, life has been better, great. I remember the times when I bullied the innocents, cheated the ones I loved, 'snatched' people's crush and much more wrong things that I've done. I had learn my lesson and it never will happen again, trust me I'm a changed man. As days/months past by, I'm learning new things. Be it by studies or life experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflecting back the whole year of 2009 can make me realise that I was childish, but still it was so funny. Smiling to the screen, I can't believe that I'd done those things. I had cause problems in life and made many hearts crushed by my words. It was my bad. Everyone is not perfect, everyone does mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would like to take this opportunity to apologise for my wrong doings. I'm sorry. Truly from the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010 has arrive and this is a great time to make a change. New school, new friends. I'll have to make the right decision to pick the right friend to hang around with. I won't be antisocial, I'll be friendly but I have brains. I know whats right, whats wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets start the year with a smile and enjoy the new year. Thanks for reading. (eventhough you don't tag. -.-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2406089829420742868?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2406089829420742868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2406089829420742868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2406089829420742868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2406089829420742868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2010/01/best-of-2009.html' title='Best Of 2009'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-801695323289432525</id><published>2009-12-31T02:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T03:20:01.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Would Be Different Without You, I Swear.</title><content type='html'>Who here thinks that I'm better without Erna right now? Hands up. I'm here trying to tell the truth. If you had put your hands up, well fuck you. Where was I these past few months? Who was I close to these past few months? Why was I close with that particular person/family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For these few months, I've been close to Erna's family. Her grandmom, her aunts, uncles, mom, dad, brother and sister. Want to know why? Cause with her family, I felt being loved, I felt somebody cared. I feel the company. I had someone to talk to. I felt entertained. Jokes that her mom made, everyone down there was open, funny. The kids had real childhood, unlike me. I was made to study real hard due to competitions around me. And I'm sick of studying anymore. I need life. Yes, I know I have to study but not that hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to tell people the truth, especially Erna that now my life has changed, I can't live without her. Cause she's the only one who brings me happiness. And I don't want to find another cause I know I can't find another like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In these 3 months, I feel complete. Its just 3 months and we're this close. Thanks baby. Love you no matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-801695323289432525?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/801695323289432525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=801695323289432525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/801695323289432525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/801695323289432525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-would-be-different-without-you-i.html' title='Life Would Be Different Without You, I Swear.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2444427253369929250</id><published>2009-12-27T02:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T02:58:49.722+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Our 3rd!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzZc08zL7KI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/szeVG2R2e0g/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s651-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzZc08zL7KI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/szeVG2R2e0g/s320/dannysheckler%27s651-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419621266330741922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy 3rd monthsary to us! This is the longest relationship that I ever had and yet I didn't regret the decision to have you in my life. You showed me love, in every way that you can. You cared for me when none else did. You brought me back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 month for me is damn fast. To picture back the first day we met, was hilarious. We didn't even had that thought of getting together. But what I know, I had the feeling for you long time ago. I still remember the first day we contacted. I was only with Thosei. He asked me who my crush was, then you replied my text. I was happy as hell. Its like, kite ditakdirkan gitu. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered saying I'm sucked at everything. But you changed me to someone better. I don't know how, but you did it. I'm much more confident then I felt before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never get the day to spend the 27th with her alone. Do the things that I've always wanted as a boyfriend/soulmate. I wished I could.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2444427253369929250?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2444427253369929250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2444427253369929250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2444427253369929250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2444427253369929250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-our-3rd.html' title='Its Our 3rd!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzZc08zL7KI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/szeVG2R2e0g/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s651-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-2507118434845555273</id><published>2009-12-23T06:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T07:24:39.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Gonna Be Hell, Trust Me</title><content type='html'>I'm still at shocked, scared and guilty by the fact that someone is angry at me. I'm like a small kid waiting for Dad to get beaten up. But I didn't know what I did wrong. What I know is, he's angry/pissed off with me. He's finding me. I'm not a coward, never am. But I've already labeled him as my big brother eventhough I'm older than him. I don't want to fight a brother, I don't want any misunderstanding with a brother, I don't want to have any problems with a brother. So I'm running away from him. I'm taking my life out of trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby, no matter what happens, I'll still love you. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. I'll never leave you. If we were to be forced to go our separate ways, my heart will never leave you. Without you, my life is incomplete. If we were to be separated, I'll never have the shoulder to lean on. I'll never have the shirt to wipe my tears away. I'll never get to smell that armpit. I'll never get to live the life that we've planned. I'm just scared things will be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this will be the only memorable pics we took. I still love you!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzFUoZO3KuI/AAAAAAAAAZs/shbZ5wRRnBE/s1600-h/Only+Her%27s1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzFUoZO3KuI/AAAAAAAAAZs/shbZ5wRRnBE/s320/Only+Her%27s1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418204879648140002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2507118434845555273?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2507118434845555273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2507118434845555273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2507118434845555273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2507118434845555273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-gonna-be-hell-trust-me.html' title='Its Gonna Be Hell, Trust Me'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SzFUoZO3KuI/AAAAAAAAAZs/shbZ5wRRnBE/s72-c/Only+Her%27s1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-7787934969561608545</id><published>2009-12-21T23:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T23:55:18.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's The Look Down For?</title><content type='html'>Why is getting in to ITE so wrong? Why to people look down on ITE students/schools? Just because majority of the students are stubborn? So what if they are stubborn? They could be more smarter than you? Like me, I rather choose ITE than going to sec 5. Cause I know that I'm lazy to study but I know I'll be better if I learn new things. But I know that ITE is not the last resort for me to end my education. So stop your critics about ITE and stop being too proud over yourself being in express stream/polytechnic/university, cause it doesn't matter to me. Farktards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I love everything that you do hunney! I love the way you shake that ass! You know, I know. Haha! You're the best and I'll never leave you. Few more days left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7787934969561608545?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7787934969561608545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7787934969561608545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7787934969561608545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7787934969561608545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/whats-look-down-for.html' title='What&apos;s The Look Down For?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-5419945058485609343</id><published>2009-12-20T02:38:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T18:44:56.369+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Bald</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy4AF2Bq4sI/AAAAAAAAAZk/7AzV55K5-kA/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s952-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy4AF2Bq4sI/AAAAAAAAAZk/7AzV55K5-kA/s320/dannysheckler%27s952-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417267502175150786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took a long time thinking whether to get bald or not. I lost my long hair so long ago. I don't care about my hair cause I don't need to be hot. I know I am. Nyet! Haha. So people, I had cut my hair bald. I look like I'm doing my National Service. I look older, like abangabang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my friends didn't recognize me for a moment. Azhar and Thosei wanted to get bald too. Luckily for them, I brought down my shaver. So I shaved for them. Guess where we did it? In the public, at the void deck, outside Appy's house. Malu worr. The hardest hair to cut was Thosei's. So curly wurly. Like bulu jenggut. HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well pictures below.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_6wzxsZI/AAAAAAAAAZc/20NzE_PkNe8/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_6wzxsZI/AAAAAAAAAZc/20NzE_PkNe8/s320/dannysheckler%27s984.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417267311796138386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_0gcIjXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/mg5gNpYcoAs/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_0gcIjXI/AAAAAAAAAZU/mg5gNpYcoAs/s320/dannysheckler%27s985.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417267204322790770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_axmbHiI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3bxB0FGy-mY/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s987.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_axmbHiI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3bxB0FGy-mY/s320/dannysheckler%27s987.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417266762252754466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_Vdn5LlI/AAAAAAAAAZE/4T90rSJzAiY/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s988.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_Vdn5LlI/AAAAAAAAAZE/4T90rSJzAiY/s320/dannysheckler%27s988.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417266670990863954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_M4_3U6I/AAAAAAAAAY8/Y2313x16jqw/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s993.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy3_M4_3U6I/AAAAAAAAAY8/Y2313x16jqw/s320/dannysheckler%27s993.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417266523720340386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5419945058485609343?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5419945058485609343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5419945058485609343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5419945058485609343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5419945058485609343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/finally-bald.html' title='Finally Bald'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Sy4AF2Bq4sI/AAAAAAAAAZk/7AzV55K5-kA/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s952-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-3810752982773257016</id><published>2009-12-19T16:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T17:15:36.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shocked, Very</title><content type='html'>I was expecting my results to be very bad. 25 points or more. But end up to be 18 points for 4 subjects. I was super shocked. I didn't study and yet I got this good grades. What if I studied, could have gone sec 5. I have 1 ungraded subject which is Combine Humanities. English and Malay each have 4 points. Maths and Science each have 5 points. All that subject, I didn't even studied. I'm not disappointed but I'm proud, happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby followed me to school. I wanted her to come, meet my schoolmates and be there for me if I'm sad or whatever. Really thankful that she came cause I wouldn't know what to do if she's not there. Was stressed up for a moment before taking my results. I was told that I couldn't take my results due to school fees. I didn't know that I've not paid my school fees. How am I still gonna study if I have not been paying school fees. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost the paper/letter that shows what courses that I could take. Maybe I misplaced it or dropped it somewhere. I'm so careless. But lucky enough, Baby and me were smart that we had marked what courses that I could take in the booklet. Phew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it. I'm too lazy to update anyway but I got my ass up just for you readers. I'm gonna bath. Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-3810752982773257016?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/3810752982773257016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=3810752982773257016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3810752982773257016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3810752982773257016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/shocked-very.html' title='Shocked, Very'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-5155696372097245212</id><published>2009-12-09T14:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T14:49:00.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Gave Me Strength</title><content type='html'>Is it fair? The way you were brought up by your parents is different. I didn't get freedom until I was sec 2. Parents giving me high hopes. I remember them setting my PSLE aggregate score too high that they know I could get. They want me to be better than one of my cousins, in fact, all of them. They don't want their face to fall, they only think about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small brother has their love. Every mistake he did was just going to be lectures. I was given 240 target for my PSLE aggregate. But brother got less than 150. And he didn't get any scoldings. Great. That's fair to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything changes since 2005. Everything turns to hell. I'm felt lonely, nobody to talk to, every single mistake I made, I'll get fucked up. Until 27 sept 2009, I felt better. I felt love, strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read back my archives, I never lied. I was alone. I'm jealous friends having a good family. They have someone to talk to when they're home. But me? Every time when I'm home, I'll be do my own things in my room. I eat alone, unlike other family. So what's the point of going back home when I'm left alone in the room? If only I could stay with Baby's family, I'd be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5155696372097245212?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5155696372097245212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5155696372097245212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5155696372097245212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5155696372097245212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-gave-me-strength.html' title='You Gave Me Strength'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7315444346331780671</id><published>2009-12-01T23:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T00:16:31.919+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day That Can Never Be Forgotten</title><content type='html'>I went out to Malaysia with Baby's family. Shopping, bowling, farming, etc. Had lots of fun down there. Even watched New Moon at City Square. Slept during the middle part of the movie. Its not the movie that sucks, I know what would happen next cause I had read the book more then 10 times? Photos below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farming was the coolest thing ever. The turkey was super big. Size? Half of me. Imagine how big was that! The ducklings were the cutest thing. Following the mom everywhere she went. Pluck out chillies. Chopped off sugarcanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bowling with her family was relaxing. The curling shots impressed them. Chey. Hahaha. Such a long time since I last played bowling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our enjoyable day was cut by a phone call. Rush back to Singapore as soon as possible and went straight to NUS. Saddest thing ever happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxVBHrruoQI/AAAAAAAAAY0/W0o0MR4M8Y0/s1600/dannysheckler%27s900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxVBHrruoQI/AAAAAAAAAY0/W0o0MR4M8Y0/s320/dannysheckler%27s900.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410302127596544258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Our son. Nah, he's Baby's cousin. Cute kan? I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9mgymS3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/aG5w5z9nwac/s1600/dannysheckler%27s877.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9mgymS3I/AAAAAAAAAXU/aG5w5z9nwac/s320/dannysheckler%27s877.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410298259202001778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9n8gUnXI/AAAAAAAAAXs/xVrTKikJTvk/s1600/dannysheckler%27s875.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9n8gUnXI/AAAAAAAAAXs/xVrTKikJTvk/s320/dannysheckler%27s875.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410298283821407602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9nAgje1I/AAAAAAAAAXc/34pd8VbIf3Y/s1600/dannysheckler%27s873.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9nAgje1I/AAAAAAAAAXc/34pd8VbIf3Y/s320/dannysheckler%27s873.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410298267716254546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9nZtZ41I/AAAAAAAAAXk/MtLmEzNBcJU/s1600/dannysheckler%27s874.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU9nZtZ41I/AAAAAAAAAXk/MtLmEzNBcJU/s320/dannysheckler%27s874.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410298274481038162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-iCok4KI/AAAAAAAAAX0/nkLzggaBqec/s1600/dannysheckler%27s878.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-iCok4KI/AAAAAAAAAX0/nkLzggaBqec/s320/dannysheckler%27s878.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410299281899053218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-iWa4LbI/AAAAAAAAAX8/2JCPgnLez-w/s1600/dannysheckler%27s879.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-iWa4LbI/AAAAAAAAAX8/2JCPgnLez-w/s320/dannysheckler%27s879.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410299287210306994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-i5W7V1I/AAAAAAAAAYE/R4LKHqoSf_c/s1600/dannysheckler%27s880.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-i5W7V1I/AAAAAAAAAYE/R4LKHqoSf_c/s320/dannysheckler%27s880.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410299296588978002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-jB2g2GI/AAAAAAAAAYM/LeLVfERfhXw/s1600/dannysheckler%27s881.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-jB2g2GI/AAAAAAAAAYM/LeLVfERfhXw/s320/dannysheckler%27s881.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410299298868942946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-jVKCv-I/AAAAAAAAAYU/Hc2OhQMbnCk/s1600/dannysheckler%27s883.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU-jVKCv-I/AAAAAAAAAYU/Hc2OhQMbnCk/s320/dannysheckler%27s883.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410299304051130338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU_fSDlc0I/AAAAAAAAAYc/-k4wuA3Jb8U/s1600/dannysheckler%27s884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU_fSDlc0I/AAAAAAAAAYc/-k4wuA3Jb8U/s320/dannysheckler%27s884.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410300334010889026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU_f0IEJyI/AAAAAAAAAYk/dn8OJpV-VLA/s1600/dannysheckler%27s885.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU_f0IEJyI/AAAAAAAAAYk/dn8OJpV-VLA/s320/dannysheckler%27s885.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410300343156483874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxU_gGNoaCI/AAAAAAAAAYs/EBMdjVnm9rg/s1600/dannysheckler%27s900.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7315444346331780671?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7315444346331780671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7315444346331780671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7315444346331780671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7315444346331780671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='The Day That Can Never Be Forgotten'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SxVBHrruoQI/AAAAAAAAAY0/W0o0MR4M8Y0/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s900.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-2819859824336719537</id><published>2009-11-30T15:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T15:29:58.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus For The Moment.</title><content type='html'>I've been very busy lately. I might be free on 2 December. I'll post about 27th. One hell of a day! Super gerek!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2819859824336719537?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2819859824336719537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2819859824336719537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2819859824336719537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2819859824336719537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/hiatus-for-moment.html' title='Hiatus For The Moment.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2777143606775873070</id><published>2009-11-22T04:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T04:51:31.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Leave</title><content type='html'>Something is holding me back. I feel different, weird now. Should I worry about us? Should I worry about the future? I still need you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've gone through a lot. We had fights but still we're one, still strong. I had watched you sleep, cry, laugh, smile. I love the way you looked at me in the eyes, smiling deeply inside, telling me those 3 words. Everything about you is perfect to me. I wouldn't ask for more. All I'd ask is your love and trust. I had given you my heart, my trust. Don't care about jealousy, its normal. It will soon fade away. But the end of everyday, I never fail to say that I love you more, more than anything else in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to have another relationship until you came to my life. I'm showing others that I do cherish the love you gave me. I'm not the old me. This is new, everything is new. I don't want the same thing to happen to me once again. My heart is healed by you. Take care of it. I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 more days. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2777143606775873070?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2777143606775873070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2777143606775873070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2777143606775873070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2777143606775873070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/dont-leave.html' title='Don&apos;t Leave'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7473538561258038647</id><published>2009-11-22T03:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T04:11:17.268+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Has To Stop</title><content type='html'>If you could notice, I'm getting skinnier every single day. I didn't notice anything at all until yesterday's meet up at Clementi. Some say I'm getting skinnier. I couldn't get a grip of it, kept taking it. I have to eat more and stop this bad habit. I don't mind of how hard it will get, I'm still going to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you. I miss your calls. I miss your text. I miss you too much. ):&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7473538561258038647?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7473538561258038647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7473538561258038647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7473538561258038647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7473538561258038647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-has-to-stop.html' title='This Has To Stop'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7730064502757585580</id><published>2009-11-19T17:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T17:59:54.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Only Hope Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SwUVxkuoYiI/AAAAAAAAAXM/5NOvQ2tEWzA/s1600/n523061588_2267.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 171px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405750869145182754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SwUVxkuoYiI/AAAAAAAAAXM/5NOvQ2tEWzA/s320/n523061588_2267.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;u&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;You and me made up an equation. No matter how bad it is, my love will never change.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a fraction of your love fills the air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I fall in love with you all over again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the light that faced the sun in my world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd face a thousand years of pain for my girl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out of the things in life that I could fear,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only thing that would hurt me is if you weren't here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to go back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To just being one half of the equation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You understand what i'm saying?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl without you i'm lost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't face this focus at heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Between me and love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the common denominator&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the common denominator&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before your love was low&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now you're just my height&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You changed the game that would put my card to this side&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A broken heart rise up to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is a lie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You and I would stand to be multiplied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out of the things in life that I could fear,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only thing that would hurt me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is if you weren't here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to go back&lt;br /&gt;To just being one half of the equation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You understand what i'm saying?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girl without you i'm lost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't face this focus at heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Between me and love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the common denominator&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the common denominator&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't imagine life without your touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every kiss that you give can fill me up&lt;br /&gt;And every all heartaching&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jealous females hate it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'mma hold it down for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Common Denominator - Justin Bieber)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7730064502757585580?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7730064502757585580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7730064502757585580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7730064502757585580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7730064502757585580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/only-hope-now.html' title='The Only Hope Now'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SwUVxkuoYiI/AAAAAAAAAXM/5NOvQ2tEWzA/s72-c/n523061588_2267.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-266982110634856720</id><published>2009-11-06T13:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T13:47:21.461+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop. Think.</title><content type='html'>I came to think that what I've done is wrong. I'm getting more and more violent. Some had noticed it. I regret what I've done and I won't be leading this life with danger and humiliation. I never knew that things could get worst if I continue this. Think, if I were to continue this, my family would be involved too. I come from a good family. Parents are open to friends who I have. They would be ashame if they got to know this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to think before I do or talk. I have to picture the consequences. I have to be in others shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard to get a perfect life where people respect you. I respect others, but I can't seem that they do. Going through the bad way doesn't even change the respect that I'm suppose to get. Maybe I don't have to follow the influences around me to get respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I'm done with fighting. I'm done leading my life with danger. I'm done leading my life with humiliation. I'm an adult now, no more acting or behaving like a kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-266982110634856720?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/266982110634856720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=266982110634856720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/266982110634856720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/266982110634856720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/stop-think.html' title='Stop. Think.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6604550602279386196</id><published>2009-11-05T16:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:21:51.247+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Situation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SvKZH7f3r6I/AAAAAAAAAXE/vmnU8zCDSS4/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s652.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400547264680144802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SvKZH7f3r6I/AAAAAAAAAXE/vmnU8zCDSS4/s320/dannysheckler%27s652.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I let love down the drain. Yeah, I did. I suck at relationship. I do. All I did was giving in, giving in. I never told her about my whereabouts. I thought she might not know, so I kept it. I kept it cause I don't want her to get jealous and angry about this, not because I'm cheating on her. I never even want to do those stuffs anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She knew about me meeting someone few days back. She's angry, super angry. After hours of talking, she finally told me the cause of her temper. I apologised to her and told her I will tell her about my whereabouts when I go out without her. Everything when fine, but suddenly changed. Now I'm holding on to the rope. Almost about to fall. But still I'm holding on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we were to break, I'm going single. I'm not going to have another relationship even if I hoping for one. But still I'm holding on to you now. Love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6604550602279386196?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6604550602279386196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6604550602279386196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6604550602279386196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6604550602279386196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/perfect-situation.html' title='Perfect Situation'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SvKZH7f3r6I/AAAAAAAAAXE/vmnU8zCDSS4/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s652.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-6150972262480139273</id><published>2009-11-04T11:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T11:14:56.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Them. Us. Crash.</title><content type='html'>They pissed me off. I'm trying to cool things down but they played with fire. Didn't mama told you not to? Chiko Seven, watch out. Something's swinging. Trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I MISS SKATING! AND NOTHING IS GOING TO HOLD ME TODAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6150972262480139273?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6150972262480139273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6150972262480139273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6150972262480139273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6150972262480139273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/them-us-crash.html' title='Them. Us. Crash.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8779618573449727891</id><published>2009-11-03T01:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T02:21:39.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You People, I Swear.</title><content type='html'>Came down Redhill to meet Anna, my close friend since my retained year. Had a catch up talk about her life and mine, but mostly hers. I miss her. She did change after she got retained. Didn't get close since then. I miss those times. Remember, don't do stupid stuff during your probatation period. If can change yourself. You're life, you're choice. I don't have the right to control you. I miss you Anna!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After meeting Anna, straight when down RC kipas to meet my girl who is alone down there. Gosh, I miss her badly. Didn't get to contact her for 48 hours and it kills me slowly. And finally get to see that pretty face of hers. I gave her many pecks of kisses that could get irritating if I kept doing it. Something tells me that she's not feeling well now. Argh, how to contact her! God, help me. I miss you badly Baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When back home and started my online chats. First thing that came popping out at the bottom right side of my screen was Adian. Quickly double-clicked on her and we chatted. Gosh, how long was it since we last talk? Super long I guess? I do miss her irritating text. Haha, jkjk. She told me that some guys in my school talked good stuff about me. I'm shocked, I am. I thought I have a lot of haters. Our conversation was cut short after her dad came checking up on her. Damn. I miss you Adian!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more that I do miss. Nurdiana Erniwaty, Nur'Ain, Aisyah, Nadia, Nadheera. Those names not mention, I do miss all of you, but many to be listed. Sorry!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8779618573449727891?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8779618573449727891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8779618573449727891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8779618573449727891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8779618573449727891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-miss-you-people-i-swear.html' title='I Miss You People, I Swear.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1580746880540398234</id><published>2009-10-31T08:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T08:38:20.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You So.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SuuG5hBw7hI/AAAAAAAAAW8/r38ZTVdFc_U/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398556901010107922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SuuG5hBw7hI/AAAAAAAAAW8/r38ZTVdFc_U/s320/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have not even get a chance to close my eyes since yesterday. I worried, yes I am. God only knows. Had a serious talk with Rafi and Azhar this morning, and I'm taking precaution. Not that I don't trust her, just that I'm not going to lose this relationship that I really cherish so much. Be friends with anybody, I don't really mind. But note, even if I'm jealous, I understand that you need friends too. Never I had this kind of relationship that had lots of obstacles. We've gone through a lot and I'm not losing this. I love you v much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is like a rope. You don't handle it well, you'll fall.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1580746880540398234?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1580746880540398234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1580746880540398234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1580746880540398234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1580746880540398234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-miss-you-so.html' title='I Miss You So.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SuuG5hBw7hI/AAAAAAAAAW8/r38ZTVdFc_U/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s651.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-8600528640911366284</id><published>2009-10-28T02:37:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T03:04:18.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything New!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-5VSq6eI/AAAAAAAAAWs/O8hB2vWZoDU/s1600-h/Plan_b_kingston_Ltd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397351833115748834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-5VSq6eI/AAAAAAAAAWs/O8hB2vWZoDU/s320/Plan_b_kingston_Ltd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397353202035323506" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SudAJA6h8nI/AAAAAAAAAW0/bj1By-DzYL4/s320/Thunder.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-4qm-pKI/AAAAAAAAAWc/9ntHZlsIINw/s1600-h/wheels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 298px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397351821658203298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-4qm-pKI/AAAAAAAAAWc/9ntHZlsIINw/s320/wheels.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-4U9yICI/AAAAAAAAAWU/1juihTiyUPs/s1600-h/Destructo-Sendai.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397351815848271906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-4U9yICI/AAAAAAAAAWU/1juihTiyUPs/s320/Destructo-Sendai.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm gonna buy new deck, wheels, trucks and bearings. Everything new! Shoes? I have 3 skate shoes at home. Etnies, Vans and Adidas. I'm either choosing the Kingston RS or Kingston PJ deck, Thomas White trucks, Big B wheels and that bearings. Total cost $265. I'm gonna work my ass off to get that money. No matter what I'm buying that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's 27th. My 1st month with baby. But we didn't do anything memorable, and I don't mind about that. One whole day was with my friends. But the next 27th, we're going out. Swensons? She likes that. I want a candlelight dinner, eat below the stars, near the beach. That's more romantic for sure. But where?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;Syg, hanya kamu yang mampu berdiri di sisiku bila ku bersendirian. Menunjunkkan apa ertinya cinta. Memenuhi hatiku dengan penuh kasih sayang. Walaupun di dalam percintaan kami ada pergaduhan besar ataupun kecil, ku berjanji hanya kamu yang ku akan sayang sampai akhir waktu. Hatiku teruntuk kamu. Tak mau nangis ye. Sayang you banyakbanyak. I'm not perfect but I'll do the best I can to be perfect for your eyes, your heart and most importantly, your life. You're my one and only, the one that makes me crazy. I love you, swear i do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8600528640911366284?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8600528640911366284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8600528640911366284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8600528640911366284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8600528640911366284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/everything-new.html' title='Everything New!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Suc-5VSq6eI/AAAAAAAAAWs/O8hB2vWZoDU/s72-c/Plan_b_kingston_Ltd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-1098872864488649380</id><published>2009-10-20T00:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T01:19:42.034+08:00</updated><title type='text'>As The Sunsets.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StyaWhSoxsI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LlPakb-ogbc/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s644.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394356165367350978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StyaWhSoxsI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LlPakb-ogbc/s320/dannysheckler%27s644.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent a day with my girl at West Coast Park. We talked, watched the sunset. Finally I had time alone to show off the romantic side. If only the view is just the sea and the sun without those ship thingy, I would be so attracted to the sun's glare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, the guy I once cried for came into my mind. And I almost shed tears again. The pain was still hard for me to contain. Baby gave me a hug and I felt better. I knew I will never be alone, even when I have no friends around me. All I need was her. We are the same, and we know that. We help friends, we care for friends but we get nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"What are relationship for? Girlf can mean anything. It can be your lover, listening ear, adviser, mother to you, wife to you, a bestfriend etc."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1098872864488649380?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1098872864488649380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1098872864488649380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1098872864488649380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1098872864488649380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/as-sunsets.html' title='As The Sunsets.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StyaWhSoxsI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LlPakb-ogbc/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s644.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-2462233132068348045</id><published>2009-10-18T15:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T16:30:11.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Care Less.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StrR1z9CM2I/AAAAAAAAAVk/K-YBQXOccME/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s523.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393854226139067234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StrR1z9CM2I/AAAAAAAAAVk/K-YBQXOccME/s320/dannysheckler%27s523.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I thought going out with RC cliques yesterday would make me feel happy again. But the pain in my heart was too hard to handle. Tears almost fell. Where were my friends? Where was Diana, where was Nadia, where was Izham, where was everyone? These people were the ones so-called-close to me. Not a single person came asking about my life now, not even anyone cared about me. I now understand. Its in the genes. My family were made to be lonely. Don't come to me and say sorry. Cause its not your fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm always the odd one out. It's like I'm always the last one on people's mind. Sad though but I'm containing myself. Never cry for friends anymore. I wasted tears for you. My life now is just me, family and Erna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Air mata sudah tiada,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Namun luka smakin berdarah.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Di manakah rasa kasihan,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Adakah hilang nafsu badan?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2462233132068348045?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2462233132068348045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2462233132068348045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2462233132068348045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2462233132068348045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-care-less.html' title='I Care Less.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StrR1z9CM2I/AAAAAAAAAVk/K-YBQXOccME/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s523.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-6362388843378207992</id><published>2009-10-15T00:58:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T01:36:06.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything Has Changed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From my point of view, everything has changed. Compare life then and now, it does changed. I no longer have a bestfriend or closefriend that I could talk to when I'm down. Everyone had left me all by myself. Don't even think that its because of my status now. Even when I'm single, I'm the lonely guy walking aroung Jurong all alone when I needed someone to talk to. Nobody knows who I really am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to have a friend who I once ever cry on his shoulder because I knew I was a freak last time. But now, he's too busy studying, hanging around with his schoolmates rather than to know how my life has been. When I'm in school, I'm doing my own things. Straight after school, I'll be alone smoking at RC and then leave just as soon as I'm done with smoking. He thinks I'm busy with my skate and my girl now. Maybe, everyone thinks the same way too. Well, truthfully, I made myself busy cause I'm always by myself alone and I couldn't take the pain of being alone. See, nobody knows who I really am. If you say I'm your bestfriend, shame on you. Cause now, I have nobody other than my girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see baby. I have nobody by my side. Its only you. And if you leave, I'm nothing. I'm sorry. I swear I love you. Don't leave me please.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392510303367872274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StYLjNfgPxI/AAAAAAAAAVc/prcsJtu-pso/s320/dannysheckler%27s483.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6362388843378207992?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6362388843378207992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6362388843378207992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6362388843378207992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6362388843378207992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/everything-has-changed.html' title='Everything Has Changed.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StYLjNfgPxI/AAAAAAAAAVc/prcsJtu-pso/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s483.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-2107696850058242528</id><published>2009-10-14T00:29:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T02:15:41.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hari Berganti Hari.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392145703280375538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StS_8sUs9vI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ckTWuqLe3vk/s320/dsc0.7.jpg" /&gt; Every night, after busy thinking about how it started, I'll always be smiling to myself. Picturing back to the first time I met her, the time we played soccer together and now holding each other's hands tightly. Its like a fairytale which you think would never happen, but it did. She's the first for almost everything. She was the first girlf that we laugh till our stomach felt the bursting sensation just because of our stupid little super lame jokes/craps. She was the first open-minded girlf. There's so much more of her that when we were to split up, there's so much memory of our love. Every breath I took, I could smell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I know that I can't see you as often as I like, I know that I can't have you in my arms through the night. But, deeply in my heart, I know that no matter how far we are, we know that we're close in our hearts. I love you baby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; -Nur Erna Kuzirah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm the moon when you're the star that surrounds all over me. Your love is pure and never-ending. Your kiss is like a comet hitting the moon which leaves a mark on my heart. I love you always&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/span&gt; -Danny Sheckler&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392147005458291842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTBIfUHHII/AAAAAAAAAU0/Et25j9AfK6s/s320/dannysheckler%27s496.jpg" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTAWXepEcI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mhlhQqV6VVA/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s485.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTAH4YpADI/AAAAAAAAAUU/yfn3yEGBV_s/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s483.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTAvOD3ToI/AAAAAAAAAUs/FUS4WknOcb0/s1600-h/dannysheckler%27s496.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392147248924457138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTBWqS9-LI/AAAAAAAAAU8/AhGv2oZNBQo/s320/dannysheckler%27s485.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392147746806159714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StTBzpDN2WI/AAAAAAAAAVE/eL6xtSvQ6Go/s320/dannysheckler%27s490.jpg" /&gt; &lt;center&gt;That's the longest she can give. Cute kan?&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2107696850058242528?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2107696850058242528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2107696850058242528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2107696850058242528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2107696850058242528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/hari-berganti-hari.html' title='Hari Berganti Hari.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StS_8sUs9vI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ckTWuqLe3vk/s72-c/dsc0.7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-5455894141740846257</id><published>2009-10-13T00:34:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T02:16:11.188+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohh La.</title><content type='html'>Yesyes. I've got back my cyberlife back again. I miss chatting online till late nights. I miss certain people, especially my bestfriend. ): &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My N had ended on Thursday. I'm free from school now! I have to find work though, I've got to taste hard life which is about to happen in a few years time. Gosh, time is precious. It seems like its getting faster everyday. &lt;em&gt;Stop thinking, start living.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Slowly and slowly, I'm losing more and more friends. Sometimes I like being alone, but I love when there's company. I no longer have a friend to talk to when I'm down. I no longer have a friend to lean on. I no longer have a friend to laugh with. Without baby, I don't know how life would be. And I'm glad I have a bestfriend whom I called my girlf.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life has been better ever since she came. My nights had been easier for me to sleep well. We fought, I smiled. The way she gets excuses to find a way to start a fight is just simply cute. I can't describe the feeling I had for her, I don't know how to show her how much she meant to me. All I could think of was just a kiss on the cheek and whisper to her the 3 simple words that has a heavy meaning to it. I still think that was not enough. I have to show more, but how?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love the way she took out her small little tongue.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391771661506121074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StNrwmIXDXI/AAAAAAAAAT8/X36_bMib73I/s320/dannysheckler%27s395.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391771651166068722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StNrv_nGX_I/AAAAAAAAAT0/Bu10HPhYnSY/s320/dannysheckler%27s410.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391771247047141250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StNrYeJo54I/AAAAAAAAATs/cdLHsL0aRxI/s320/dannysheckler%27s403.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;I swear I love you; 270909&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5455894141740846257?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5455894141740846257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5455894141740846257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5455894141740846257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5455894141740846257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/ohh-la.html' title='Ohh La.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/StNrwmIXDXI/AAAAAAAAAT8/X36_bMib73I/s72-c/dannysheckler%27s395.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-8434820968574205338</id><published>2009-10-04T15:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T15:16:39.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Smell Blood</title><content type='html'>I heard you talked bad behind my back. I never did about you. Said that I'm always busy with Girlf and my skate. Well, I'm always busy because I'm bored. I'm bored because you didn't care. I ran away from Pondok because I was invincible. When was the last time you asked me to go Pondok? Hmm, idnk. Heart pain, eyes boils. If not for Naz, you'll be kissing my shoe. Great, now you've talked bad, I'll be gone. You'll only see me when Naz is around. Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To who? Sapesape uh yang terasa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8434820968574205338?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8434820968574205338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8434820968574205338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8434820968574205338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8434820968574205338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-smell-blood.html' title='I Smell Blood'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8746557046161974796</id><published>2009-10-04T14:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T15:05:10.308+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Miss You Badly</title><content type='html'>Birthday was such a bore. Well truthfully, every year is sure a bore. I was woken up at 7am with a cake and candles lighted up in front of my face. My parents and my brother got the wrong timing cause I was super sleepy, and I didn't not get a good look at the cake. But well, good effort btw. I skated at Queenstown alone in the morning and then off to RC outside school just to cool off. Suprisingly, almost everyone knew my birthday. Relax for awhile and then off to Clementi. This is not an offence but, it seems like Pondok is getting boring everytime I come. Is it because of the National Exams or everyone has gone different ways? Only God knows. So I went to JRC and found out nobody was there. Minutes later Girlf came first then the rest. Girlf went to JP with my cousin and came back with a 'bolster' with has a perfume smell. &lt;em&gt;Mane tah drg angkut tu perfume. &lt;/em&gt;So that is how boring m birthday is. If anybody asked me out on my birthday and made a suprise, I'll be super duper shock. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss you Naz. The only friend that touches my heart with every word he said. I cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8746557046161974796?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8746557046161974796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8746557046161974796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8746557046161974796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8746557046161974796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/ill-miss-you-badly.html' title='I&apos;ll Miss You Badly'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1026126237117540262</id><published>2009-10-02T03:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T03:16:01.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Extreme Skateboarding</title><content type='html'>I am so jealous. I was stuck on watching almost all of the skating videos posted on YouTube for about 3 hours and I get the steps of doing tricks but I scared of doing it. Yeah, scared. Time to fear nothing. I might be going Queenstown or just streetskating. Lets try kickflip or 180 tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6Kkd500EbBw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6Kkd500EbBw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q4Tmdda7Pjw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q4Tmdda7Pjw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1026126237117540262?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1026126237117540262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1026126237117540262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1026126237117540262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1026126237117540262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/10/extreme-skateboarding.html' title='The Extreme Skateboarding'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2435562249294177642</id><published>2009-09-30T01:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T02:21:56.966+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='27th; the official'/><title type='text'>I Want Only One Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SsJQMyKR0HI/AAAAAAAAATc/gSTAODI6CBc/s1600-h/29th+%28editted%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SsJQMyKR0HI/AAAAAAAAATc/gSTAODI6CBc/s320/29th+%28editted%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386956284842070130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I never fail smile when you're beside me. You made me moved on, officially. You made me forget about my past and start thinking about our future. Eventhough we always fought, you made me love you more. I swear I love you. Please make this last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a promise to myself. When I'm back to love life, I'm going to make things last. I'll make sure it will last. That's the reason I've been careful lately. Yes, I've done wrong in the past. But, I've moved on. End that chapter and start a new one. I've buried _ pics, everything that is _ I've thrown them away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dee, I still love you as my bestfriend. Its up to you to carry on our 5 years of friendship. I'm not giving up on my love cause you once called me a 'player'. And that is why I'm not giving this up just because you feel bad contacting me, I'm making this last. Being attached, does not mean we can't contact anymore. Think about it alright. You inspire me to be the best, you showed what love is like. So I'm sorry if you want to leave. Your choice, your decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there are haters out there, say what you want to say. Sweet-talk-mother-f*cker? I don't care. Your bad comments is what I always needed to pull me up. I swear I'll make this last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2435562249294177642?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2435562249294177642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2435562249294177642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2435562249294177642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2435562249294177642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-want-only-one-thing.html' title='I Want Only One Thing'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SsJQMyKR0HI/AAAAAAAAATc/gSTAODI6CBc/s72-c/29th+%28editted%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-1525837487630886385</id><published>2009-09-09T19:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T19:49:19.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First It Boils, Now Its Off The Limit.</title><content type='html'>I'm already stressed up! Thank you people for making this happen. I didn't asked for trouble, but yet trouble came. Sounds like its time for me to shut a lot of people up. Before you even think of creating trouble down here, try creating trouble face to face. I'm sure that would be more easier to settle things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To HannaBintang;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me pissed off early morning. A very big thank you. You made me break my fast. I cried and cried on the way to school. Thanks for telling me I'm useless cause I can't move on. Yes, I'm useless. Good! I'm useless to be a friend of yours. I'm no more you babypartner, I ONLY want to be your cyberfriend. Nothing more. Nothing left to say, then shush!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to Fatin Ahterawr;&lt;br /&gt;If I could show a big middle finger to you and tell you to suck this finger of mine, I would. What's the problem with you, huh? Did I even say I want them to fight? Did I mention that I want her back? Fcuk no. And I said IF she would give me the chance, NOT please give me a chance. But I know I won't get it. Cause I'm not that pathetic to wait for a girl who is happy living her life. Please kindly understand the words that has been type out. Its in English, hello? And your vulgarities is seriously not needed. If you aren't happy with me, then meet. Sort things out face to face, not in tagboards. You said be in Ryan's situation? Be in my situation, fcuk! I am trying so hard to move on. Yet, did things change? No! Brains people brains! Mentangmentang, berkawan ngan dia, pikir kau jiwer dia sangat uh? Isap dalamdalam. Kawan lain semua mana? Buang kat mana pulak? You came for trouble, here it comes. You think I don't know where you're schooling at? I have friends there eh. Pikir dua kali. Tak dua, tiga eh. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1525837487630886385?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1525837487630886385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1525837487630886385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1525837487630886385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1525837487630886385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-it-boils-now-its-off-limit.html' title='First It Boils, Now Its Off The Limit.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-5819325104493276134</id><published>2009-09-09T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T00:58:31.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memang Khilafku</title><content type='html'>I'm fcuked up right now. Too much going inside my mind. I know, its my fault. Or was it really my fault? What did I do? I could not understand why. Adakah ini takdir Allah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clock struck 12am. What's the date today? 09/09/09. It could be already a year if I'm still with you. I swear I miss you. I purposely made 09/09/08 to be our date. Now, its just me standing facing a world alone. Every part of geylang is a memory of us. We break fast under the tree eating Ramli Burger. I swear I do miss those times. Somethings happen and we went apart. I was dumb, WAS. If you could give me the chance to be with you again, I swear I would cherish it with all my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to every website, trying to find a space where you're still active in. Livejournal. Your new diary of your life. I read all of your archives, hoping for my name to appear. If it does, I'll be glad cause you do still remember me and you still think of me. But, nothing. Good that you're happy now. I'll hope you've find the partner of your life. Happy advance birthday, Balqis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Senyummu enggan pergi&lt;br /&gt;Tawamu mengiringi&lt;br /&gt;Wajahmu ku terbayang&lt;br /&gt;Hadirmu dalam mimpi&lt;br /&gt;Umpama bidadari&lt;br /&gt;Potretmu ku tatapi&lt;br /&gt;Mengharap kau kembali&lt;br /&gt;Memang ku rindu saat bersamamu&lt;br /&gt;Memang﻿ tak mampu melupakanmu&lt;br /&gt;Tapi ku tahu semua itu&lt;br /&gt;Tak akan kembali lagi&lt;br /&gt;Terima kasih aku ucapkan untuk percintaan ini."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;To You;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, you know you're a good friend. And I just want to be friends with you. I don't think I would want a girlf right now. Eventhough I sometimes said I'm a lonely soul standing in the middle of nowhere with none around me. But that sometimes is only just for awhile and its gone, cause I know I have friends around me. And I'm glad to know you. I turned that sad face of yours to something what you always wanted. That is what I always wanted. You've read my past, you knew what happen. I wouldn't want the same thing to happen. I can't trust you yet, cause we just knew each other. You are going things too fast. I felt this awkward feeling whenever you called me, 'baby' or 'babypartner'. I'm sorry I have to do this, cause I need to slow things down. I have other 4 people to contact. So I hope, we could contact not like everyday. Once in awhile, maybe? Once again, I'm sorry if I broke some part of your heart.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5819325104493276134?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5819325104493276134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5819325104493276134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5819325104493276134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5819325104493276134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/memang-khilafku.html' title='Memang Khilafku'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-3901436058920970304</id><published>2009-09-07T00:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T00:44:29.648+08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Painful Feeling</title><content type='html'>I was checking my post when I found this post saved in my drafts. I knew this about a friend of mine but who was it? I can't remember who it was. But this was the last story telling I wrote since I was gone. But I don't think its completed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;He just stood there, shocked of what he had just heard. For all those while he waited for her, hoping for a miracle to happen, it all goes down the drain. All his efforts he had put for her, to impress her but she just couldn't see all of that. All he wish was him to be the perfect one for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"She's attached with another guy dude," I told him with sympathy. I tried my very best to change my words before I speak but it still seems too harsh for him. Even the best editors can't make it sounds much better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was the last words I told him when I met him last Friday. I needed to tell him what's going on in her life. I don't want him having high hopes for a girl that is not being truthful to others. I don't want him to be hurt by this simple lie. Cause he is one of my close-friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He confessed to her. He let out everything that is kept in his heart all those while. 1 year he had waited, 1 year he kept quiet. Her mouth were shut, ears were wide open. She could believe that he confessed to her again. The last time she got to know that he was in love with her was a year ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-3901436058920970304?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/3901436058920970304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=3901436058920970304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3901436058920970304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3901436058920970304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/that-painful-feeling.html' title='That Painful Feeling'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2107546850321732655</id><published>2009-09-06T04:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T06:18:58.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard Is The Name</title><content type='html'>Why does it have to be a longer route just to get to some place near? It was so clearly seen that I could have a better life but another party came crashing in. Now I know why hot girls are easy to find but hard to get. Not; hard to find, easy to get. I'm slowly trying to erase her from my mind but not my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later, there could be a war between them. One called police, switch stories making our name to be a disgrace. Even me, I was blamed for making a cousin to start smoking when I didn't even do a thing. We meant no harm, but this has gone too far. Court case? Let's see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had enough of this romours spreading around me. Why must their mouth have to bitch about me? What wrong had I exactly done to them? This is my year to shut a lot of people up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe N'Level is coming in a few hours time. Biggest exam of my life. I have yet to study and I'm lazy to even open a book. Even if I do, my mind will wonder to other country. Friends? Do they even force me to study? Yes, they did. One or two even start to nag like their moms. But, they encourage me for just a day or two. Then they're of studying with someone else. What I mean is, I'm not studying for the sake of my friends. I am studying for my own, but I need someone to accompany me, teach me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live life to the fullest. I know, no link.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2107546850321732655?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2107546850321732655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2107546850321732655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2107546850321732655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2107546850321732655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/hard-is-name.html' title='Hard Is The Name'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-4988564350071940708</id><published>2009-09-03T16:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T16:55:23.225+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Haunts Me Still</title><content type='html'>Guess who's back? Back again? Dan is back, tell your friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9th Sept is coming. I know I'm not suppose to post anything about this. But fcuk, my blog, my life. Problem, find me. It haunts me still and I can't get myself out of this situation. Someone help? No, I'm doing this on my own. I'm sure I can move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been lately MIA-ing from my friends. Sometimes I feel great being alone, but sometimes I fell different. I do missed them but I can't do anything about it. I'm having problems and I can't seem to solve it. Until it's solved, I'm back to normal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed my bestfriend. I missed my friend. I missed you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4988564350071940708?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4988564350071940708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4988564350071940708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4988564350071940708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4988564350071940708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/09/it-haunts-me-still.html' title='It Haunts Me Still'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-814975999595728184</id><published>2009-06-23T02:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T02:33:12.451+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You So</title><content type='html'>&lt;center style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Great, you're back!&lt;br /&gt;I miss you so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-814975999595728184?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/814975999595728184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=814975999595728184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/814975999595728184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/814975999595728184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-miss-you-so.html' title='I Miss You So'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-3585890575337315745</id><published>2009-06-19T14:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T18:50:32.921+08:00</updated><title type='text'>eff-you-see-kay why-ohh-you</title><content type='html'>&lt;center  style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes beginning aren't so simple,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes goodbye is the only way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonely. Everytime the word is spoken, whether it came out from my mouth or my heart, a sharp pain came poking through my heart. It's a common thing for me to be lonely. Since kindergarden, primary school and even secondary school. I was always the uncool one.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Respect. I never fail to respect others until I realised that I never received any. You can say that I've changed. I've changed for you people to realise that there's none out there like me. But.. things became more haywire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Punctuality. The most important thing in my life cause since kid, I was trained to be punctual. I was always the earliest. I could still be 1 hour earlier eventhough the meeting place is at the other end of this island. Every outing, every slacking day, I was always the first one. I was the furthest one whereas you were the closest one. The most closest one, just a few meters away from meeting place, can still be one hour late. I thought of a plan for you to feel how it feels to be waiting for someone who is late. But from what I know, I was never one hour late, maximum arrival time will be less than half an hour. Some are okay with it, some aren't. When I think about it, I do feel guilty and bad, yes I do. But do you? After being late, do you feel bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a moment of peace after all the talks. I realise something that I never had thought of. The relationship between me and my friends gone amiss ever since I got back this attached life. Yes, matter of fact it is. Everything changes because of this status. I never spend much time like we used to. Raise your hands if you think its true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a change. Goodbye readers. Oh ya, I'm at Izham's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Even the greatest have to suffer sometime' - Muhammad Ali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-3585890575337315745?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/3585890575337315745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=3585890575337315745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3585890575337315745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3585890575337315745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/06/eff-you-see-kay-why-ohh-you.html' title='eff-you-see-kay why-ohh-you'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2467556961759542539</id><published>2009-06-10T14:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T14:43:51.108+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship Is Never A Problem Since This Happen</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Specially for you,&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what I think, it's because of the stupid, selfish post, things has changed. Did you see the change yet? Did you see the so called 'attendance'? We are getting smaller due to your post. No more fun during our lepak, no more activity, no other conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, what kind of lesson should we learnt? By your stupid, selfish words in your blog can make us learn? Well, to me it only brings out the anger in everyone of us. You said you got your ways? Well, writing in your blog is not a good kind of way. For your information, you are trying to tell the world that we are changing to one of the bad kinds of people out there. That is your way, huh? I'll remember these words, 'Jaga hati and perasaan korang.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day by day, from Jurong West to Clementi, 45mins ride, I came down to kill the time. I was the furthest among all, I came first while you people took your time. I'm not mad at all cause at least you people came down. But now, things has changed. 4 is the maximum number of people present down there. Lets see how many more can survive your selfish words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2467556961759542539?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2467556961759542539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2467556961759542539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2467556961759542539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2467556961759542539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/06/friendship-is-never-problem-since-this.html' title='Friendship Is Never A Problem Since This Happen'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1731082169153470109</id><published>2009-06-07T21:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T21:51:39.158+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When There's Life, There's Problems.</title><content type='html'>After reading the particular post in that blog, I was wondering whether are we still kids and not a grown up yet. What did we do wrong? We did not pick up fights, problems came to us. The words written on the personal blog was way too harsh. Why to the world? Why do you want to tell the world about us? Why can't you talk about it to us before you wrote those things? I may not be your ex-schoolmate but I'm one of the friends that you always slack with. Anyways, the pondok is open for everybody. We're just waiting for your return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back with more of my long post. I'm sure you'll missed it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1731082169153470109?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1731082169153470109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1731082169153470109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1731082169153470109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1731082169153470109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-theres-life-theres-problems.html' title='When There&apos;s Life, There&apos;s Problems.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7257975101698145277</id><published>2009-05-29T17:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T18:11:22.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The End Has Finally Happen</title><content type='html'>Goodbye to 18 March 2009, hello freedom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days past so quickly and I wasn't sure of the decision yet. Do I have the courage to end it or suffer along with her? Family members and friends didn't like the idea of me being with her, although they gave the 'cool' face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 7am and the sun rises above the dark skies. I was ready to end it then but something tells me not to. My hands were shaking badly, so badly till she wondered why. So I just canceled out the plan to end the relationship. Cause I can't bare to see her cry infront of me again, not this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine the pain that I was going through. I had no time for her anymore cause I had to take care of my brother for like every single day. And the distance from her place to my place was too far and by the time I reached home will be late. Somewhat, I have to hang around at Clementi. If only she could be there everywhere I go, it would be easier for me. So I decided to end it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, we're over. Just like that my love for her had fade. She wasn't understanding at all. What makes me say that was because of what she said in the text message. This is what she wrote; "So friends are more important than me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of talking about her. Makes me fired up. So bye! Will post again ASAP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7257975101698145277?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7257975101698145277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7257975101698145277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7257975101698145277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7257975101698145277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/05/end-has-finally-happen.html' title='The End Has Finally Happen'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-522306856560658661</id><published>2009-05-16T22:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T23:01:09.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Inactive, Sorry!</title><content type='html'>Hi! I'm sorry for I have been so inactive for a very long time. My comp is still down and I am having a very hard time to get it fixed back. Anybody who knew how to solve this fucked up thingy, please try to contact me. Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm basically at my cousin's crib, using her comp while everyone is busy looking at what am I typing. Screw them anyways. So, back to my life. Its been boring lately. Nothing much happens. Exams are over and I am so the very happy babe. Eventhough exams are on, I still don't know why I don't take it seriously. During the papers, I slept the whole paper. I don't care less about exams. I did study. Yes, I did people. Study for like less than 1hour 15mins. At least I did study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, anyways. Some are curious about my relationship with Zurfiqah. Its not going quite well lately. Everyday meet, everyday fight. But the love is still not fading though. She's not the best there is YET, i know who's the best all this while. Nadia, you-know-i-know-they-don't-know. I miss her soooo much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, talking about missing people. I miss lots of people sia. First of, Nurdiana Erniwaty Binte Ismail, Balqis Binte Razak. 2 person that I want to meet so damn badly. But when? Tell me when.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm done now. I have lots to do now. I'll try to blog ASAP. Sorry readers about the wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-522306856560658661?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/522306856560658661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=522306856560658661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/522306856560658661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/522306856560658661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/05/still-inactive-sorry.html' title='Still Inactive, Sorry!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8371716094740121207</id><published>2009-05-14T18:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T21:45:08.064+08:00</updated><title type='text'>112th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"  &gt;Am I really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; heartless, Danial? I feel both bad and mad. :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8371716094740121207?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8371716094740121207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8371716094740121207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8371716094740121207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8371716094740121207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/04/112th.html' title='112th'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-819280452489743234</id><published>2009-04-16T20:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:06:20.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awaaay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Hi, I've forgotten to do what I was ordered to, which is to blog that Danial would be inactive for the time being due to break-down of his computer. He's doing great so far, I supposed, and so is his relationship with Ika. He'll be back when it is time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;With luv, Nadia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-819280452489743234?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/819280452489743234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=819280452489743234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/819280452489743234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/819280452489743234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/04/still-23783743637.html' title='Awaaay'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8930820179119851171</id><published>2009-04-03T23:05:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T00:02:43.395+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Fails</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdYymx4XBgI/AAAAAAAAATM/QI96Wk0_pI0/s1600-h/2438207-2-i-love-you-til-the-end.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320495651590964738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdYymx4XBgI/AAAAAAAAATM/QI96Wk0_pI0/s320/2438207-2-i-love-you-til-the-end.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;v&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll love you till the very end.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I might be on haitus due to lack of study and lack of rest. I'm trying my very best to get my life as free from any meet ups with anyone as possible. I'm sorry if I have to cancel out your plans with me. I understand now that I have to balance out time with lots of stuff. Study and rest are the first one for me to catch up with. But I'll blog every week, if possible. Talking about every week, I won't be out every Saturday with TKR anymore. So sorry guys, you know your mistakes. Change it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm having trouble with this group of 'friends' lately. They have been the most annoying group I have ever known. What I know and what I think is that, they're are jealous with me having baby right by my side. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the members had and is having a crush with baby, but I'm cool with that cause he was a close friend of mine. So I didn't do anything with him, but ignored. When the ignoring continues, he kept climbing on my head. He kept sending text messages to baby, and she too could repied back. My brain cells when bursting when I found out that someone told him that me and baby broke up, which was a lie. So we got up to a fight. I had prepared a text message if we really had to break us up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But things went safe. Nothing had happen to us. We thought of building our trust by not sending text messages to each of the person that me and her hates. She agreed, me too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Readers, give me some tips to what I am suppose to do with this guy who has been interfering our relationship. What is the best way to do it? I don't want to hurt him, cause he was my 'close-friend' and I still treat him as a brother of mine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8930820179119851171?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8930820179119851171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8930820179119851171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8930820179119851171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8930820179119851171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/04/never-fails.html' title='Never Fails'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdYymx4XBgI/AAAAAAAAATM/QI96Wk0_pI0/s72-c/2438207-2-i-love-you-til-the-end.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-2696332001548256472</id><published>2009-04-01T08:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T09:21:57.089+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend or Foe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdLBQuCSTgI/AAAAAAAAAS8/HqCim5qsvQI/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319526602857664002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdLBQuCSTgI/AAAAAAAAAS8/HqCim5qsvQI/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some friends envy and wants you to suffer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some friends can be or are like this. Most of my primary school friends were like this. So its easy for me to see who would be the one stabbing each other from the back. I was stabbed not once, but many times. Not one, but two person stabbing slowly on my back. I ignored, I just acted as if I didn't know. I acted as if I was stupid, when I know I wasn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This particular person was a close friend. Super close that I have never had any friends at all. I didn't treat him as my close friend cause I know stabbing would come sooner or later. From the expression on his face, I know something bad would turn soon. And it came sooner than I expected. I saw the expression, the roll of the eyes, the fast opening and closure of the lips. It was alright though. I just said, 'If you hate me, tell me straight to my face'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me and baby fought because of this. I was scared. Not scared for the fact I'm having conflict with her family, but scared our relationship will be thrown down the drain. I didn't want to make things worst, so I was the one apologising to the other party. Everything went fine. But will it last? Only God knows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our love shines from the dark sky down to Earth,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a star shining around the solar system.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're the only one that I want,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're the only one that I love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2696332001548256472?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2696332001548256472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2696332001548256472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2696332001548256472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2696332001548256472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/04/friend-or-foe.html' title='Friend or Foe?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SdLBQuCSTgI/AAAAAAAAAS8/HqCim5qsvQI/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-4458830710112955501</id><published>2009-03-29T18:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:14:34.299+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Was It You?</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY ARSYAD!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I didn't know much about you yet. But still, you are the man of the day! There will be me when you need someone to talk to, alright?&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am addicted to my own blog. I've been reading it for like more than 10 times per day, or even more. I've been trying to spot the good english that readers have been talking about. What so good about it? Really, I'm not even impressed of my own writings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am currently super bored right now. I'm not even at pondok or at baby's house cause I don't even want to see their faces. Irritates me. So I gave a stupid reason; my brother's home alone. Finally, peace is mine!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've found another irritating friend! One by one, you're starting to get on my nerves. This one is not that irritating though, but still gets my day fucked up. This person kept changing his/her blog address. He/she has changed it for more than 10 times. Irritates me, seriously. Please lah, don't change your URL every now and then, don't follow your mood. &lt;strong&gt;For example&lt;/strong&gt;, you're so happy cause for some reason and you felt there's a change for a URL. So you changed it to ilovemyass.bs.com. Then few days later, your boyfriend ditched you for some guy/girl and you felt like an ass. So you wanted to change you URL to ihatemyass.bs.com. Seriously, this irritates me. You have done this for alot of times. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Last warning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, one more time you changed it, don't even beg me to relink you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To the first irritating one&lt;/strong&gt;, you don't get it do you? What's so hard to just text me? What's so damn bloody hard? Your reason for the call was just to ask me to go pondok, not to slack down there but just to buy you something. God, you're irritating. Why me? Why?! Don't you have the brains? I'm staying at Jurong while the rest are just a couple of blocks away. Why do you want me to travel that far just to buy you that something? Where has you brains gone to? You're making me regret forgiving you, seriously.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some might wonder why am I showing attitude lately. Thanks to baby, I know how to stand up for myself. I have been keeping to myself from being fucked up, I've been showing my good side too much. Get ready to endure hell!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4458830710112955501?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4458830710112955501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4458830710112955501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4458830710112955501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4458830710112955501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/was-it-you.html' title='Was It You?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-4952650663480347844</id><published>2009-03-29T14:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T16:02:31.275+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talents In The New Generations</title><content type='html'>I went down to Westcoast Plaza yesterday. There's this dance competition going on down there. They're searching for the best group in the West but still the East freaks came down too. The performance was cool and hip. A few groups made me closed my eyes as it was too painful to watch. I witness something new coming to Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coolest dance so far in the island is Tecktronic or even shuffling still. As I watched a few groups dancing yesterday, something caught my eyes; Krumpin. Krumping is the most violent but coolest dance in other country especially in US. But its coming to Singapore now, slowly but surely. Not to say that I'm racist but I think Malays did it much more smoother and cooler than the Chinese. Overall, Malays are much more talented than the Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, I finally got the chance to watch television today. For such a long time, I didn't get to watch any tv shows. I've been going out and reached home damn late. This has to stop though. My schoolbooks aren't touched yet, my room is in such mess. Even if I can go out, I won't. Cause I hate cocked-up plans. What's the use of going out with a few peoples that is so lazy to travel anywhere? Plans are plans. They are not meant to be cancel out. I know this would happen again, so easy as said, I might not meet you guys anymore. Sorry, change your attitude before mine turns to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F1 is surely getting tougher. New drivers, new cars. Brawn Mercedes are surely the fastest to adapt to the new Grand Prix. Both new cars were the first to qualify. That's a great start for them. So if you want to get easy money, bet on Jensen Button. But still I'm a Kimi Raikonen fan though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great, two girls fighting because of me. Just because I approve to be someone's abang angkat, baby's mad. What to do?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4952650663480347844?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4952650663480347844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4952650663480347844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4952650663480347844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4952650663480347844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/talents-in-new-generations.html' title='Talents In The New Generations'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8990734002719177118</id><published>2009-03-27T23:27:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T00:57:24.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Serious Matter.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Friends are like balloons. If you let them go, they never to return.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been wondering about this two lady friend of mine. Wondering if they were doing fine. We have not been talking on the phone, have not text each other and have not met for a long time. And I do certainly missed spending time with them. Hougang is the place where I really missed so much. The mall, the blocks, the playground. For Jurong West, I don't really missed it much cause I've always been passing by those places whenever I return home. But certainly I missed hang out with the people that I've been slacking long ago. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both were currently attached but I'm fine with that. I've buried the past and I don't even think of digging it back up. And I don't have the intention to ruin their relationship. Why should I ruin their's when I have mine to care about? Stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of them had a boyfriend who is so damn protective over her. Wrote her name once and immediately she text me the next morning saying that I should not write her name again cause her boyfriend doesn't like it. I don't give a damn though. Its my blog, its my say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I writing this cause I felt that I'm lossing my old friends. The old ones who have shown me happiness in the past. Because of the new friends I've been hanging around with, I felt that the relationship between me and my old friends are drifting apart. So close yet so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talking about old friends, I missed a few peoples from GESS. The old batch has gone, but they do meet sometimes. The few that I missed is Rudi. Its a joke when people think that close friends are fighting because of a girl. Of course its normal to fight for a girl. But what has been said and done, you can't do anything about it. Baby choosed me, not him. And he can't get the fact that she's totally mine. He occasionally send text messages to baby but she won't reply him. I don't mind about it really. But why must our friendship be like this? Why over a girl and we're not even talking? I missed the old times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart is always weak. I can easily breakdown into tears. Thinking about this can make my room flooded. I hate this feeling, I hate this part right here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To you;&lt;/strong&gt; If you hate me writing about your girlfriend on my blog, come holla at me. Is it wrong to write about a friend on a blog? This blog is to express my feelings and thoughts to the world. Its not as if I'm writing any bad stuff about her or the world, so its up to me to write stuff on this blog of mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss this two soooo much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Scz7Lc8OjXI/AAAAAAAAASs/zfyrqO6CuZ0/s1600-h/dan+sachok+is+mine.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317901434183650674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Scz7Lc8OjXI/AAAAAAAAASs/zfyrqO6CuZ0/s320/dan+sachok+is+mine.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Scz-KEk3ikI/AAAAAAAAAS0/PJY5z9VpMpM/s1600-h/DSC09907.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317904708998236738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Scz-KEk3ikI/AAAAAAAAAS0/PJY5z9VpMpM/s320/DSC09907.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8990734002719177118?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8990734002719177118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8990734002719177118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8990734002719177118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8990734002719177118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/serious-matter.html' title='Serious Matter.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/Scz7Lc8OjXI/AAAAAAAAASs/zfyrqO6CuZ0/s72-c/dan+sachok+is+mine.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-1017999879068005576</id><published>2009-03-26T23:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T00:15:46.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Sweet 16!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317530745980630322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/ScuqCjxktTI/AAAAAAAAASc/sb9-ow8bJdQ/s320/DSC01163.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear Noor Izham,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy sweet 16. You have finally grow one year! Now we can play pool together! Congratulations! Of all the friends I have, you'll always be needed by me. We have gone through ups and downs. The down moments was really down and I thought we will never be friends again. But well, past is past. You were there when I cried a few days ago, crying my heart out when I felt like a useless friend. Indeed I am busy now with my love one, but I will never push you or TKR away. Both TKR and Triplets, we are in it. Remember when we got drunk on the rooftop, we woke up with just the two of us? Sweet kan? HAHA. Tengok bintang sama-sama. Saturday, we'll do it together again, as a TKR family. From Vice-captain to the Captain, this cigarette I'm smoking, this is for you! Bestfriends forever.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Love,&lt;br /&gt;Danial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1017999879068005576?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1017999879068005576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1017999879068005576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1017999879068005576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1017999879068005576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-sweet-16.html' title='Happy Sweet 16!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/ScuqCjxktTI/AAAAAAAAASc/sb9-ow8bJdQ/s72-c/DSC01163.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-9028133110395928567</id><published>2009-03-26T23:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T23:57:25.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lack Of Punctuality</title><content type='html'>Punctuality is a noun from the word punctual. What is punctual? It is 'arriving or doing this at a point of time'. At a point of time does not mean its being late. Somebody has to teach kids what is punctuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate myself for being too kind or too nice to people. I finally realise how much pain it cost when nobody notice the good side of me. I've given the best, but all I get back is fucked up treatments. But when I tried to show the evil side of me, people just leave. Tell me how am I to be stern and make them realise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was suppose to meet my peeps at pondok before 7pm. But I took my own sweet time to reach there. The only reason I did that was to make them feel how it felt to be me when I was there alone waiting. I repeat, I was alone waiting. The waiting can carry on for more then an hour. Easy to say, theses people are selfish. So I thought to myself, why not I'll be selfish this time? Why not I take my own sweet time reaching? So I was at baby's house the whole day til about 6.30pm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friend. The most irritating one (if you know, raise your hands up high!). He kept on calling. I received a total of 5 missed calls from him. The reason why I did that, I was irritated. He'll call me and just asked for my whereabouts. 5 secs gone and the value inside my prepaid will be burnt due to him. Why can't these kind of people just text me for my whereabouts? Why must they call? Think about others please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached pondok, and nobody was there.  Not a single human being was there. I got to know they're at someone's house. Where's the patience that I have to endure when you were late? And the reason for you waiting was not because of me, its bacause of a bloody damn cigarettes. One middle finger points to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's next to be my victim? I wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-9028133110395928567?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/9028133110395928567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=9028133110395928567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9028133110395928567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9028133110395928567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/lack-of-punctuality.html' title='Lack Of Punctuality'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2631710336850370914</id><published>2009-03-25T21:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T22:08:23.791+08:00</updated><title type='text'>25th Is Today</title><content type='html'>I didn't notice that today is 25th until I saw her personal message. '25th, *sad face*', something like that. I'm glad I had already move on than just waiting for rain to fall on a desert. Not that I am digging bacl the past, but recalling on what had happen makes me smile. How stupid I was back then. Such a cool story if I wrote it down here. Cheating on a girl who had loved me so much. It could be another Romeo and Juliet love story if I can say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As life goes on, I hope readers will remember the mistakes that I've made. The pain that I've been feeling since she left saying she still loves her ex-boyfriend. Jerk? Bitch? Nah, its a test from God. He wants you to have these kind of experience before you're married to one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. 25th has been dug up. Now I have to bury it back before I start thinking about it. Never will I made those kinds of mistakes ever again. I'm in love with one, ONLE ONE. Never will be two or more. Fuck you if you think you ruin this relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your love is like a river, peaceful indeed.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your soul is like secret, that never could keep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When I look into your eyes, I know that its true.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love Nur Zulfiqah!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2631710336850370914?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2631710336850370914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2631710336850370914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2631710336850370914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2631710336850370914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/25th-is-today.html' title='25th Is Today'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-4843511055237638202</id><published>2009-03-24T20:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T20:53:41.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hero Lies Deep Within</title><content type='html'>She was a friend of mine, a bestfriend, a close friend, and definitely my ex-girlfriend. We have gone through alot. Ups and downs. We've been there for each other. Just a phone call away, and it felt like there's a shoulder to lean on when we're down. But today, I felt like shit. I wasn't there for her when she need me, when she needed a shoulder to cry on, my shirt to wipe the tears off her cheeks. I felt like a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met her in the morning. She talked to me about her bedridden grandfather who can't be helped by the educated doctors in Singapore. His life then turns to God's hands. I told her that I'll pray for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything when fine, as per normal, until after recess/break. I received a text message from her saying that grandfather just past away and his body is on the way back to Pioneer. She went there alone, crying her heart out. Yes, I know I was needed. So I called her in class. My eyes started to become watery as soon as she picked up the phone. I could feel the pain that is going through her heart. I told her to be strong when I too need to be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of witnessing the funeral while I stand close to her. What if Rudi was there witnessing the funeral too? I'm having a conflict with him because of baby. So I thought to myself, I don't want any trouble. And I have to back off before anything happens during the funeral. I send her a text message saying that I wanted to be there with her, but I can't. She replied, "Its okay. I understand. I don't want two of you fighting". So, I didn't go but I told her that I'll pray to God to have him safe 'up' there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went straight to baby's house. I was quiet all the way. I kept thinking, am I doing the right thing? Am I suppose to enjoy when my bestfriend is feeling down, misery? I know I was in the wrong. I kept it to myself. I lied to baby that I'm going home straight but I went to meet Izham at Clementi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Tiong Bahru to Dover, then to pondok's bus stop, tears kept rolling down my cheeks. I simply could not resist these tears. I guess the pipe is loose. Many people saw the tears. Saw Izham, sitting at the railing. He looked at me and started asking why tears were rolling down. I told him everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I send a text message to people that I'm close with. They told me that its too late to regret it. I have to regret what I had done. Because when I needed help, she was always there for me. But this time, she needed me but I wasn't there. I'm really disappointed with myself. I'm still crying for the fact that I was useless. Hopefully, she's fine with me by tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;From God we came, To God we return.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4843511055237638202?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4843511055237638202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4843511055237638202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4843511055237638202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4843511055237638202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/hero-lies-deep-within.html' title='A Hero Lies Deep Within'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-495785905056526351</id><published>2009-03-22T22:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T23:41:23.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>For You Asses!</title><content type='html'>I didn't plan on going out today, even if baby forces me to meet her. I swear I planned not to step 100 metres out of Jurong West no matter what the cause is. I was seriously having a high fever which made me changed my mind on playing takraw at Clementi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Put yourself in my shoes.&lt;/strong&gt; You are already tired plus sick but still your friends are acting like a fly buzzing around you ears, telling you to play takraw at some place far from your house. The place is not as if its just one or two bustops away, but its few kilometres away. What would you do? And one of your friends calling you 'nonok' behind the telephone. What would you do? Tell me, what would you f*cking do?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I need was a simple rest for tomorrow's lesson. I did not plan on slacking at baby's house or whatsoever. I told her to come over instead and she did. What if I told you to play takraw over my place? I know what you'll guys do. Mourn. Yup, you guys will mourn as usual. You won't want to come over my place to play cause you guys are lazy. Simple as that, I am freaking lazy to play down there. And I have my own limits to going back home late. What? You expect me to go back home late every single day for you guys? If my house is just round the block, I seriously won't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think you are selfish. All you want is your own happiness. What about him? What about me? I still remembered him being attached and you changed your attitude towards him cause he has a girl when you don't have one. I remember those words he complaint to me. Now its my turn? No sweat, bring it on. Turn your dark side on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone here feels the same way that I'm feeling, raise your hands up high. Stop calling people names before you know what's fact and fiction. You don't know whats the feeling of being called 'nonok'. Its like betraying your own friends for a girl. If its true and if I really done that, you can call me that. I don't care either. But this has to stop, seriously. Its irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm still a TKR no matter what.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-495785905056526351?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/495785905056526351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=495785905056526351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/495785905056526351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/495785905056526351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-you-asses.html' title='For You Asses!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6733611151194297154</id><published>2009-03-20T23:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T01:21:54.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Make Me Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/ScPQCXib6vI/AAAAAAAAASU/oxZaV4VtFq0/s1600-h/E-NAL%27S005+(edited1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315320724324084466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/ScPQCXib6vI/AAAAAAAAASU/oxZaV4VtFq0/s320/E-NAL%27S005+(edited1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olla amigos! I know some of you are missing me badly, well I do miss you too! Some wondering where I've been missing lately. Some wondering how's my life been. Some might want to 'kaypoh' about my love life. That's why I'm back at blogging. I see happy faces or some might give that 'whatever' face (especially Nadia).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 3 months that have been so damn lonely and misery, now I'm happy. At least I am happy for now. For that 3 months, I've been blaming myself for what I've done to my 3rd. The last one had just been a joke to me, treating me like one ass. But well, let bygones be bygones. Don't close the book, but open a new chapter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Curious why am happy now? I'm finally someone's property. Finally someone loves me deeply. Eventhough some might say I won't last long with baby, all I can say is nothing but I can do something. That is point one good finger; the middle one. Straight to your face I can show you that. For once, just let me be happy. At least I'm happy now. I don't know about later, but I believe nothing's going to change between me and baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you.&lt;/em&gt; What you think of this words? Simple but makes you feel blessed with care and love. The way she express those words to me, I can never stop smiling. Never had I felt this feelings before. I love her the most.&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Met baby's family after the NUS projectwork interview. Adik (name, same pronounsation but different spelling) was super cute lah! Irritating but cute! If I were to get that kind of kid in future, I have to prepare a maid. Too hot to handle! Mama and auntie were kind to me than I expected. Bought for us drinks from Trully's Coffee and made me rose syrup after that. How caring can they be? Hugged and kissed her before leaving for home. My love will never die this time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6733611151194297154?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6733611151194297154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6733611151194297154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6733611151194297154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6733611151194297154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-make-me-better.html' title='You Make Me Better'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/ScPQCXib6vI/AAAAAAAAASU/oxZaV4VtFq0/s72-c/E-NAL%27S005+(edited1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-5656269285251489138</id><published>2009-03-15T04:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T05:03:06.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Sleepy!</title><content type='html'>Its 5am in the morning and I can't get a goodnight sleep. Is it because of the 4-1 Liverpool win over Manchester United? Is it because of the coldness of the enviroment around (I tell you, its really freaking cold out here!)? Is it because of the irritating mosquitoes sucking my sweet blood? Or is it because of baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I've been thinking of her the whole day. Whenever I close my eyes shut, I can picture her infront of me murmuring the words 'I love you'. I can't imagine myself being with a girl who is 4 years younger than me. But I can't help it. I've fallen for her, fallen deeply into her lovely heart of hers. Eventhough lots might say that she's not the one, I don't give a damn about it. Cause I know I'm still young, I know that its not wrong to try this relationship. No matter how bad the situation has been, I'm still here loving for you. I love you bby and I know you love me too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should be wondering where I am right now. Some knows, some don't. I'm in school. I am attending NCC camp which still I am treating it as a chalet. I came, then go as I wished. What to do? I'm a goddamn SIR already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddamn it, I can't take this any longer. My eyes are too heavy now. I have to get a rest before meeting bby later. Nights/morning people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-5656269285251489138?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/5656269285251489138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=5656269285251489138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5656269285251489138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/5656269285251489138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-sleepy.html' title='I Am Sleepy!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6965394194463748736</id><published>2009-03-08T20:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:47:13.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess Who's Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I AM SO SORRY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know I took so long to update this blog. I was too busy or too busy just to make myself busy (get it?). Lots of things happen this past few days. Some brought me up, some pulled me right back down to motherland and it hits me hard till I was too lazy to pull myself back up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Imagine this. You loved someone so much that you dared to do anything for her. Basically everything. You risked everything; time, sleep, money, food. But your effort was not seen or appreciated by that loved one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You found out something shocking early morning. Just as soon you entered the school, you heard the news about her being forced to be attached with a guy. How ridiculous can it be? But well, move on. That's what I did. And I'm happy now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Went down to Plaza Singapura yesterday to support FFDC. They weren't that bad either. Fee was superb! No joke, her moves are smooth. I was impressed though. Well done FFDC! Done be sad cause you didn't make it through, there's still lots of time for improvement.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got to meet Nadd but just for a short while. We didn't get to do what we wanted but well, there's still next time. I didn't get to meet that someone. I missed her badly. :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to end it here. Sorry if its a short post. I promise you that next will be a long one. A story perhaps? I have got to finish up my chemistry project now. Bye readers!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Whenever you look me in the eyes, I can see my happiness. Whenever you smile, I melt like an ice-cream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6965394194463748736?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6965394194463748736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6965394194463748736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6965394194463748736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6965394194463748736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/03/guess-whos-back.html' title='Guess Who&apos;s Back!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-4475880037204678467</id><published>2009-02-28T00:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T01:32:36.662+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Words Of The Day</title><content type='html'>What's the use of violence/fistfights? It only cause you and the other to get hurt. The next thing you know, the police knows about it. Not saying I'm too scared to fight anymore, but it is a waste of time. Fight because of staring, banging to each other or walking with open 'wings'. If fight for my family, I don't mind. But because of you staring, I won't want to cause problems. You're still a kid to me, you're 2 years younger. Remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I didn't post on Wednesday. I brought my laptop to school, but I was too busy continueing on my 'project'. Happy to see it done back again. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had Prize Giving Ceremony cum PTA. Watching friends being on stage made my mind start to imagine things. I suddenly became down. Not even wanting to share my happiness with them. I was rude to Mr Paul Lee. Screw him for not letting me remove access stuffs from my anus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 words that made me smile while I went back home. She called just to say she missed me very much. So you have guessed it. She said, "Dan, I miss you very much". For the first time, those words do touch my heart. I almost teared along Clementi Ave 2. Called just to say she missed me very much, how sweet can it get? Somemore, we've gone through lots of stuff. How many lovers get involve in our relationship, nothing can change the way I think about her. &lt;em&gt;I miss you more, Dee!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4475880037204678467?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4475880037204678467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4475880037204678467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4475880037204678467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4475880037204678467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/words-of-day.html' title='The Words Of The Day'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1080664716754020060</id><published>2009-02-20T23:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T00:34:48.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lossing Is Never The End</title><content type='html'>Lossing is what I call a lesson. When you lose, never give up hope. What you have to do is, learn from the mistakes you've made. Keep your head up. In life there is obstacles for you to go through. Some easy obstacles, some hard ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lost against Beatty. Everyone was down, even me. I was crying alone at one side. We lost due to my mistakes. There's so many free kicks that I kept missing. I knew I should have done better, but my mind was completely somewhere else. I lost my concentration during the match. And I'm sorry about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With 2 more games to play, all we have to do is pray. Pray hard to God for his assistance. We need to win both games in order to qualify. There's 50-50 chance of winning AMKSS. I would just want to bring glory to GESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;My tagboard has came up to life all of a sudden. Some praising about my English, some about Taufik Batisah and some about missing me. I do miss alot of people lately. Most importantly, I do miss Balqis alot. Meet soon okay?? And thanks for tagging. Without you people tagging, I'll think that my blog is dead and then I'll delete this blog. So keep tagging people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your info, I'll update only on any of the weekends and either Wednesday or Thursday. Wednesday and Thursday is my free period day cause I've drop my POA so I could bring my laptop to school on those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend readers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1080664716754020060?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1080664716754020060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1080664716754020060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1080664716754020060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1080664716754020060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/lossing-is-never-end.html' title='Lossing Is Never The End'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1558218777396332850</id><published>2009-02-15T21:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:37:00.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Night That Changed Everything</title><content type='html'>A night in school completely changed my whole life. I was really down till I don't have anymore hope to live in this world. I felt like killing myself. I had my body balanced on a 15 storey building last night. It's not a joke. I did felt like killing myself. To end my life and to end the problems that I've cause for the whole world. I'm nothing but problems to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked myself, why should I end my life for the wrongs that I've done? Why can't I improve on it? Why can't I learn the mistakes that I've done and change myself to a better person? Questions start popping out of my head. One by one, I can't answer them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$25.69. The numbers from the taxi meter was read by a malay taxi driver. He charged me with only $20. He said, "Simpanlah duit kau, you'll need it". All I did was smiled and thanked him. I stepped out of the vehicle and I saw the quote written on a wall of the school. &lt;em&gt;That as many hands built a house, So many hearts make a school. &lt;/em&gt;I was outside Gan Eng Seng School. The school that had changed my life, changed me from a boy to a man. I was thankful that I posted to GESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried climbing up a window of the stairs, but it was too high for me. I can't get to the classroom blocks so I just laid down on the arena. Head's facing up to the dark sky. I closed my eyes, picturing every moment that I had since I entered this school. Suddenly, someone tapped me on my shoulders. I was shocked and scared at the moment, when someone asked why I was in school. I was trespassing, that was the reason why I was scared, afraid of getting scolded by someone higher than me. An old malay uncle, in his 50s or 60s, was the one who tapped on my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm stressed up," I murmured to him in malay. He asked why and what happen. I got up to my legs and started walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told every single details that happen in my whole life. Not even one was not told. We sat outside GESSCOVE. He told me about a story of a man who nearly lost everything in his life due to his rudeness and selfishness. The story even had a meaning in it. I was told not to share it with anyone. What is told there should be left there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God gives us one chance to live but many chances for us to change into a better person&lt;/span&gt;," he whispered to my ears and left. I tried to follow him but his pace was too fast. He turned to the classroom block and he was gone. Nowhere to be found. Never in my life, I've seen an old man walked that fast before. I clearly forgot to ask him questions. Who is he? Why is he there? What was his motive to talk to me about that story? One thing that really gives me the creeps, he does looks like my late grandfather. Was it just my imagination? I don't even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked home, the words that he said kept repeating in my head. I realised I was in the wrong. Its time for a change. I'm sorry for everything. I swear to you, everything has changed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1558218777396332850?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1558218777396332850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1558218777396332850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1558218777396332850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1558218777396332850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/night-that-changed-everything.html' title='A Night That Changed Everything'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1539059362199506848</id><published>2009-02-14T02:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T02:51:06.858+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentines Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Happy Valentines Day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not going out on Valentines Day. Its not that I don't have a date. To bring out someout, you got to have money. I don't even want to spend on it yet. Saving it for emergency purposes. Remembered last year, I skipped the last period to buy flowers for Ain. It was a last minute plan lah. Wrote poems on a paper too. Tak romantic eh? One day, I'll bring you out. One day, not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met Ain in the morning. We decided to come late for school cause we're damn hungry. My stomach and her's was making lots of noise then. Bought food from Old Chang Kee and proceeded to Rokidol. We ate there as if there's no school. Reached school around 8.15am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total Defence Day is stupid. Completely stupid. Fire alarm will be switched on, and students were to assemble in the field. During war, anybody could attack us that easily. I didn't knew that it was Total Defence Day until she mentioned it. No foods were sold by the canteen stall holders but just porridge. Luckily we had eaten breakfast. If not, we're starving like hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was really boring. 4 days I'm living like this. Its good though cause now I can stay back for extra lessons, stay back to seek teachers help. I need help for Chemistry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about Chemistry, something bad just happen. When I finally had the morale to study hard, shit always happen. With still 15mins more to school ends, Ms Tho just left class just like that. How the hell can I start studying hard when this things happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;45683246&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1539059362199506848?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1539059362199506848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1539059362199506848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1539059362199506848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1539059362199506848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentines Day.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2218211802377124124</id><published>2009-02-07T23:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T23:55:31.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pool, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MSN IS PISSING ME OFF!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For like 1029472341 times I've been trying to get online. And after I came online, a few minutes later I was offline. It goes on and on. Screw MSN lah! Sorry people if this irritates you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at around 12pm today. I wanted to sleep till 7pm! Damn it lah! The reason I woke up was because someone called me. Guess who? Butterfly called. Hak! Shocked? I was shocked too. She asked me to accompany her around Jurong Point to buy things. The reason I agreed was because she was the time-waster for me so that I won't be too early at Haqiz's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much happen, really. I didn't talk much to her. My mind was completely blank when we're walking around the extended mall. So all I did was kept my mouth shut till she asked me something. Neither I want to fall in love with her nor her to fall in love with me. I want us to remain friends. Cause you're no longer my type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Haqiz's house. We watched Ninja Warrior through YouTube. Some made me laugh, some made my jaw drops. We talked about soccer after that. He might be coming for my training on Monday. I want our training to be more tougher. Talking about soccer, our match was abandoned due to the bloody blink on the lightning signal. We're leading 3-1 then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izdi and Izham also known as the 'Iz' asked me to join them to play pool. My hands were shaking whenever I'm holding the stick. Soon I master it! I almost won Izdi on the first game. Then I won him after that game. How cool? Almost all long shots. They call me the 'Talent King'. Muahuahua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been bloghopping since just now. Bored yknow! I found this blogger. Her english, 1 word; Wow! She wrote this. Either her or someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is sometimes denied, sometimes lost, sometimes unrecognized, but in the end, always found with no regrets, forever valued and kept treasured.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 more minutes to your birthday. Should I waste my prepaid on you? After I send to that message, what will happen? I want no trouble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2218211802377124124?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2218211802377124124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2218211802377124124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2218211802377124124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2218211802377124124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/pool-anyone.html' title='Pool, anyone?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2532370410760049444</id><published>2009-02-05T22:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T22:36:46.399+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 words, Thank You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Perempuan tengok muka kau, confirm tak nak".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally realised why. You spoke with truth and braveness. You never seemed to care of how I will feel after I heard those words. But I thank you for being truthful to me. Right infront of my face, you spoke those words. With you saying it, I will always be boastful, vain and cocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First match was against KCPSS. We drawed 3-3. First half scoreline was 3-1. My freekick almost went in but luck was on their side. As soon as I was being subtituted by Joel. It turned upside down. The game suddenly was snatched from our hands to theirs. Tomorrow will be facing Guanyang Sec. We'll bring in the good news, so wish us luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2532370410760049444?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2532370410760049444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2532370410760049444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2532370410760049444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2532370410760049444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/02/2-words-thank-you.html' title='2 words, Thank You'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-41208088109172456</id><published>2009-02-03T20:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T20:20:46.501+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Co-Owner -.-'</title><content type='html'>Eh mat, meet me tomorrow at 6:45 (miss 2 trains at most). The same place as this morning.&lt;br /&gt;See ya with Izham (L)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-41208088109172456?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/41208088109172456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=41208088109172456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/41208088109172456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/41208088109172456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/again-and-again.html' title='Co-Owner -.-&apos;'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6295903363594489883</id><published>2009-01-31T00:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T00:29:53.919+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taufik @ Sinaran Hati Emas</title><content type='html'>I missed this show due to lepaking. Fuck man. But luckily there's YouTube. Million thanks to narvia05. (Watch the small kid at the last video. So cute!) What I heard from abg Hariz was Taufik is making a new album, English version of Suria Hatiku!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LiuC2FBxPuo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LiuC2FBxPuo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t4VLegTZ7mk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t4VLegTZ7mk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IamqPRyzJko&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IamqPRyzJko&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6295903363594489883?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6295903363594489883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6295903363594489883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6295903363594489883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6295903363594489883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/taufik-sinaran-hati-emas.html' title='Taufik @ Sinaran Hati Emas'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7617461106727709593</id><published>2009-01-31T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T00:23:05.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taufik @ Sinaran Hati</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7617461106727709593?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7617461106727709593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7617461106727709593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7617461106727709593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7617461106727709593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/taufik-sinaran-hati.html' title='Taufik @ Sinaran Hati'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2521099970199558069</id><published>2009-01-30T21:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T23:09:03.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its me, not her.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SYMQ4LzjxpI/AAAAAAAAASM/-WZMMkBEWbk/s1600-h/E-NAL%27S000(edited).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297096144145598098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SYMQ4LzjxpI/AAAAAAAAASM/-WZMMkBEWbk/s320/E-NAL%27S000(edited).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Original blogger is here! I've got a caring bestfriend who would post something not to make this blog looks dead. Be jealous Irfan! Muahuahua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I get fed up with school when it comes to English lesson. Do I look gay? Do I sound gay? Do I act gay? No, no and no! Mr Sandu keeps calling me gay. Never fails to call me gay or look at me with a wink everyday. Irritating yknow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Played soccer at Cage yesterday. I kept persuading Nadia to come. I just want to show off my skills to her. Hak, no lah. For the first time I played at Cage without paying. Usually I have to pay like $5, $2. Well, even if I have to pay, I'm not going to cause I was broke yesterday. I didn't even have any money for the whole day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talking about soccer, tounament is starting next week. 1st game, 4 Feb, against Guangyang Sec, at Ang Mo Kio Sec. To all GESSians (and my fans too, haha!), please do support us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sakura tomorrow! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my uncle treating us. Imagine this, one person almost $50 (I think?). And the whole Moklas generation is coming down. Ribot punya! Acah coming! Ape lagi, camwhore lah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s.&lt;/em&gt; To Nisha &amp;amp; Izham. Please, please. My secret, don't not tell anyone. I only trust both of you. Your secrets, my secrets. My secrets, your secrets. Okay? Thank you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2521099970199558069?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2521099970199558069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2521099970199558069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2521099970199558069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2521099970199558069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-me-not-her.html' title='Its me, not her.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SYMQ4LzjxpI/AAAAAAAAASM/-WZMMkBEWbk/s72-c/E-NAL%27S000(edited).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-4961073041247121586</id><published>2009-01-28T20:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T20:41:55.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back, yet again</title><content type='html'>I bet you're either on your way home or still at Clementi, still lepak-ing. Either one. Huaaak (!!) Go home early lah lain kali. Complete your homework, finish up some revisions. C'mon, N Levels horrr this year. No more Sec 3 life for you! So get that into your head, bestfriend :B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Suddenly I'm speaking speakong speakungbushmentelepondansingapopeye. HA HA -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really bored, to be frank. Come home quick you assssssss. Gi belajar lah, Clementi Coolios/Budak Relek (!!!!) He he he. And ohhhhh Dan, quick find me online or tomorrow in school. Got something to report to you ,Muahahahah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luv, yr bestfriend and NOT your girlfriend (note that humans and aliens and animals)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4961073041247121586?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4961073041247121586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4961073041247121586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4961073041247121586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4961073041247121586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-back-yet-again.html' title='I&apos;m back, yet again'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6114691479327673866</id><published>2009-01-27T03:15:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T03:46:06.711+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Unhappy About It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SX4QcC3kiMI/AAAAAAAAASE/6hdtMDhaqZQ/s1600-h/DSC01139+(edited).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295688285826615490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SX4QcC3kiMI/AAAAAAAAASE/6hdtMDhaqZQ/s320/DSC01139+(edited).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Supp people?! What's happening?! I'm having happy/seeking-for-revenge kind of mood right now. There's many points to why I'm having this kind of mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's back! Hah, I'm so happy! Who? Balqis binte Razak. I thought she's still mad at me until she deleted me from her list so that I can't read her blog anymore. We had a chat at msn. Its been a long time since we chat. The last time I heard her voice was like forever. When can we meet again? God, I missed you so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeking-for-revenge mood. Why? I'm waiting for 8 Feb to come. I'm going to msg that girl. I wanna see what her boyf gonna do to me. Never have I been threaten in my life, by a NERD! Lets see who's life is gonna be in hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lepaking at Clementi and might not be online.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6114691479327673866?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6114691479327673866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6114691479327673866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6114691479327673866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6114691479327673866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/still-unhappy-about-it.html' title='Still Unhappy About It'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SX4QcC3kiMI/AAAAAAAAASE/6hdtMDhaqZQ/s72-c/DSC01139+(edited).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-715510990615916503</id><published>2009-01-25T01:50:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T03:41:50.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cycling cum Adventure!</title><content type='html'>I went out with Clementi dudes to East Coast. (Argh, let me call them 'Clementi Coolios'.) Supposed to meet at Clementi Control Station at 12pm. I was always the earliest one, reached at around 11.45am while they arrived 15mins late. As usual, people are always not on time. Screw you peoples!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Took bus 196 from interchange and we camwhore! Took like 1240971 pictures but I deleted and took some of it. (Pictures will be uploaded below.) We met Asfian with his Tanglin friends in the bus. They too was going East Coast. Such a coincedence! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this old Malay uncle sat next to Izham and talk to him till the whole ride. Talk lots of shits man. Luckily, I plugged in my iPod. I acted as if I was listening to my musics but I paused abit to hear what he's talking. 'Lee Kuan Yew ......', 'British .....', 'Esplanade .......'. Craps I tell you. He even sang P.Ramlee's songs when he has no other topics to talk about. When it was your stop, he wanted to follow us. My mind was like 'Shit you, no!', but I can't say that. Respect is what I learnt from child. We decide to run to the other block so that he lose us. But 'bam!', he found us again. He followed us from the tunnel to Mcd to the bike rental shop. Our only hope of losing him was the rented bikes. We cycled to the other end of East Coast and we sat. Wasted time there for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks Hadi for the treat!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Met Hari and Siti there with his ITE friends. Met my cousin, Zainal/enal/Zackzack too with his girl. Even met Shalihin and Syikin there too! So many coincedence today. Well, Singapore's such a small island. I met someone who looks exactly like Balqis. Sumpah, she looks like Balqis. I don't know whether its her but my heart felt a stinging pain. My mouth drop for a moment. The girl was riding a double seater bike. She was infront with a guy at the back. If that's really Balqis, that guy behind could be Ryan. I don't know why, but the pain was really stinging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bathed and off to a new plan. Since I had never been to Labrador Park in my life, Hadi, Izham and me went there for our 'adventure'. It was a last minute plan made by me since all could go back home late except Irfan. So off we went. Had a free ride from a Malay uncle driving a lorry. Baik purr? Went up to the hill, something strange happen and I open my mouth to talk about girls just to distract my mind from 'ghosts'. Hadi's theory was different from my theory, but some parts are the same. I'll keep in mind on those words he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Clementi Coolios for the enjoying day. Tuesday we'll meet again! (Here are the photos.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932407177959042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtg-HeL1oI/AAAAAAAAANs/hFzmTJf9QbI/s320/DSC01067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932896305191106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXthalnNGMI/AAAAAAAAAOU/Lh5HCUldtX4/s320/DSC01075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932574729319570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXthH3pitJI/AAAAAAAAAN0/A5_Nr2xVlKA/s320/DSC01068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932885005655250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXthZ7hL3NI/AAAAAAAAAN8/YGSw7sXWhqQ/s320/DSC01069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932887848172450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXthaGG5O6I/AAAAAAAAAOM/DlJvgie5BKE/s320/DSC01072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294932889192809650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXthaLHexLI/AAAAAAAAAOE/9f_fNIlV9ss/s320/DSC01070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294934909168848722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtjPwHTD1I/AAAAAAAAAOk/aGJ4kXcZbz4/s320/DSC01079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294934912639656338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtjP9CzYZI/AAAAAAAAAO0/qolwor9LWVo/s320/DSC01080.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294937262432707826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtlYutH5PI/AAAAAAAAAPc/yYt7ow8NtoM/s320/DSC01103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294934914814635170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtjQFJW7KI/AAAAAAAAAO8/WgsgzTAiRP0/s320/DSC01083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939158809370866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnHHQjYPI/AAAAAAAAAP0/NEkNh2Z_EKA/s320/DSC01086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;This is what you get when you help people who are dumb in bikes.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294937251639940114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtlYGf7VBI/AAAAAAAAAPM/ZD1-b36ElIY/s320/DSC01087.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294937254445696194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtlYQ83xMI/AAAAAAAAAPU/WpErJrDzNm4/s320/DSC01092.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294937265087332882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtlY4mCQhI/AAAAAAAAAPk/4hZLYdeF2zI/s320/DSC01104.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294937269125899938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtlZHo55qI/AAAAAAAAAPs/HLhLUO1EaLQ/s320/DSC01105.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939733790140562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnolOpqJI/AAAAAAAAAP8/64nxf0UPZP4/s320/DSC01112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939736317034850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnoupHAWI/AAAAAAAAAQE/QBNH9NZ9Il8/s320/DSC01114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939744067223442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnpLg5f5I/AAAAAAAAAQM/zrcXnipjuZ0/s320/DSC01127.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939745158140610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnpPk_ksI/AAAAAAAAAQU/fF9_tvaVRZ0/s320/DSC01129.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294939747084584450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtnpWwSxgI/AAAAAAAAAQc/hXIZBawrXQU/s320/DSC01130.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294941808085572626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtphUlOHBI/AAAAAAAAAQk/rRVjeabc7dM/s320/DSC01132.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294941809236558114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtphY3owSI/AAAAAAAAAQs/F98tvkkcPPc/s320/DSC01137.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294941815425247378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtphv7IqJI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/UpuoyEqRrLw/s320/DSC01139.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294941811726157634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtphiJNB0I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/0o25V6E7OWc/s320/DSC01138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294941813139463842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtphnaKXqI/AAAAAAAAARE/6eUlYjEzqqM/s320/DSC01141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294943734426832450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtrRcwxDkI/AAAAAAAAARM/29pqto5V16o/s320/DSC01142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294943731303470866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtrRRIGVxI/AAAAAAAAARU/hNmzVfjjrLY/s320/DSC01143.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294943731328625682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtrRROGLBI/AAAAAAAAARc/XdPNgOb_zTQ/s320/DSC01144.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294943735598058386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtrRhIAi5I/AAAAAAAAARk/CsyiMtRi10c/s320/DSC01149.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294943741783383586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtrR4KtHiI/AAAAAAAAARs/lHplCwi6F3k/s320/DSC01161.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294946500816243186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXttyeXZifI/AAAAAAAAAR8/BgXqpLkQ4_Q/s320/DSC01163.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-715510990615916503?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/715510990615916503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=715510990615916503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/715510990615916503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/715510990615916503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/cycling-cum-adventure.html' title='Cycling cum Adventure!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SXtg-HeL1oI/AAAAAAAAANs/hFzmTJf9QbI/s72-c/DSC01067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-7761062883277125125</id><published>2009-01-23T22:30:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T22:45:03.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And her name is...</title><content type='html'>Hello Danial, my good friend :B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember to note down every single thing that happens, and make sure you'll report every single event to me at the end of the day. Hahaha! And oh , promise me you keep everything that I tell you wherever, whenever, to yourself and only you. No one else please. Xie xie ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am bored. Why no one wants to entertain me ?! I sadded oleady uhyzxs, *sobs :'(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Chinese New Year to all bengs and lians and non-bengs and non-lians. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh Dan, I feel verrrrrrrrrry happy because I just made someone pissed off by my sweet words. Hohoho, the bloody sweet-talker mxtherfxcker got pissed by my polite words. HAHAHA. You know I know, he/she knows. The rest don't knoooooow ! *runs in circles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dah lah. Assalamualaikum dan selamat malam (L)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7761062883277125125?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7761062883277125125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7761062883277125125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7761062883277125125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7761062883277125125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-her-name-is.html' title='And her name is...'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-6072361737346248509</id><published>2009-01-23T22:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T00:31:47.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinta Idamanku</title><content type='html'>Yes. The previous post was about/for you. Once, I was waiting for you. I did my best to get you back. Being with you, eating with you, everything that I could to make you love me back. But things happen. I realised what I'm doing is wrong, completely wrong. You've got your boyf, who loves you eventhough he can't be there for you always. While I'm there, taking over his place when I see that sad, lonely expression covering up your face. I even notice your close friend giving me that 'she-attached-don't disturb-her' hints. I didn't not even told your other friend that words. Even if I said that to her, it was a joke. How can that be real? 'Not gonna talk to her until your single?' How can such person believe such words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seemed to notice a change in me. I didn't not entertain you like I used to. I didn't not eat beside you or infront of you during recess. I didn't not walk to 2.4track with you. You should know why. I'm a bad kid, always am. And again I want to say that I did not say those words to Diyanti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many things are circling in my head. You, her, him, them. Its too much now, I can't handle it. I'm such a trouble to your life. I'm like adding fuel to the fire. I'm sorry but I have to do it. Throw every hopes away. I would be a waste of time if we're together. The only time that you'll be with me was when I'm sleeping soundly, dreaming of things that would never happen. Tetapi masih ku harap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6072361737346248509?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6072361737346248509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6072361737346248509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6072361737346248509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6072361737346248509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/cinta-idamanku.html' title='Cinta Idamanku'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7111199845641472268</id><published>2009-01-21T21:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T23:02:20.405+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kini Tinggal Khayalan</title><content type='html'>I witness something that could make someone happy today. He propose to her infront of us. And she said with the wide smile showing off her pearly teeth, 'You already know what's the answer'. Everyone was cheering, except me. Standing there, smiling, looking at their happy smiles. I was happy for them but it just reminds me of her. For the first time in my life, I proposed to someone face-to-face. It was a happy moment back then but everything has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is attached to B. Both of them fought few days ago but A has promised B that she won't leave him. Last long both of you. I realise that I'm a jerk and won't disturb your relationship anymore. You'll see a change in me tomorrow, hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to Taufik's Khayalan song. Over and over again, I've been hearing it. The lyrics, meaningful. And I dedicate this song to you, Nurdiana Erniwaty binte Ismail. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Biarku berlari&lt;br /&gt;Mengejar impian&lt;br /&gt;Mengejar dirimu&lt;br /&gt;Berteman bayangan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bulan pun berganti&lt;br /&gt;Tegar ku berdiri&lt;br /&gt;Sedia menanti&lt;br /&gt;Kala kau kembali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duka hiasi sepiku&lt;br /&gt;Kabulkanlah&lt;br /&gt;Cita-cita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinggal khayalan&lt;br /&gt;Yang mampu ku sambut&lt;br /&gt;Yang menemani ku&lt;br /&gt;Yang slalu ku peluk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinggal khayalan&lt;br /&gt;Masih ku menggapai&lt;br /&gt;Masih ku berharap&lt;br /&gt;Masih ku mencinta&lt;br /&gt;Meski kau khayalan&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7111199845641472268?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7111199845641472268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7111199845641472268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7111199845641472268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7111199845641472268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/khayalan-taufik-batisah.html' title='Kini Tinggal Khayalan'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1997759241134373275</id><published>2009-01-20T23:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:51:59.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Khayalan Atau Tidak?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I'm still waiting out for you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm still yearning for your return,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will keep loving you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even though,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're only my imagination.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will wait. I can wait. Till you're finally mine, I will do my best to get you back. I wasted the chance but I won't this time. I am standing here, waiting for you. I miss our late night calls, our lepaking, your friends and most importantly, I MISS YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how long it takes, 1 month, 1 year or 1 decade, I will wait. You're my one and only dream girl that I always wanted. Trust me, I won't leave you for another girl. Don't count me out. I won't say those 3 words yet, cause its too early and you're still attached. But I can only repeat this 3 words; I miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1997759241134373275?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1997759241134373275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1997759241134373275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1997759241134373275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1997759241134373275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/khayalan-atau-tidak.html' title='Khayalan Atau Tidak?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2733519145712050313</id><published>2009-01-18T00:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T01:26:45.642+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisible To Your Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You saw me standing, the same place where we first met but you did nothing. I was waiting, waiting for this day to happen. Waiting for us to bump to each other again. But this time it felt different. You saw me, stared at me and you left. Not even a smile on your face. I didn't asked for more, at least I got to see you face again today. Till when am I visible to your eyes? I need you, I want you and most importantly, I love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Unkindness of Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back again at that story. Yes, yes and yes! I am writing again. Its been so long since I've touched on the particular story. Sorry if it took so long for me to complete it. There are names that I should not mention, so I have to edit it all back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a soccer tournament at Fico later at 2pm. But my team won't compete if there's lots of teams competing. My stupid, gonggong friend fill in the form late that we can't play. All we could do is to pray that there's not enough team, so then we could play. If we can't play, I've got no plans tomorrow! Ashaa, any plans?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashaa is my newly added friend on msn but we knew each other quite long now. She's my no.1 fan! Seriously shocked when my cousin told me about her. Haha, tak mau kembang! I know you're smiling widely right now, kankankan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to sleep! Goodbye and goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2733519145712050313?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2733519145712050313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2733519145712050313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2733519145712050313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2733519145712050313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/invisible-to-your-eyes.html' title='Invisible To Your Eyes'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-2697093110287815807</id><published>2009-01-15T22:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T23:26:16.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SW9NW9483uI/AAAAAAAAANk/I0QA7uBdTX4/s1600-h/DSC03070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291533144149516002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SW9NW9483uI/AAAAAAAAANk/I0QA7uBdTX4/s320/DSC03070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HAPPY 15th BIRTHDAY, SITI NADIA BINTE AMRAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;Yes, yes. Its her birthday today. I could get sick of her when she starts counting down to this day. I was well, quite suprise to know that I was the first to wish her face-to-face cause I was the only friend she was with before she went home. IF only I was rich, I could buy her anything. IF only I had $20 in my hands right now, I could have treated her to Pizza Hut with Sbls, Nadd, Faiz, ZhaoLiang and etc. It was my plan, treating everyone to Pizza Hut but my money was all gone due to some activity that made me so damn hungry. One day, I'll promise that I'll give you a treat someday ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got to see Hanisha's face with my stupid eyes. She saw me every morning before school at Redhill MRT and I don't even recognise anybody that was there. Students that I saw everyday was GESS, Henderson, Queenstown, Bukit Merah and Tanglin Special. I don't even bother to look at everyone of them. Its better to listen to my iPod than staring at everyone's faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about iPod. I am seriously pissed off with this small, stupid gadget that I have. Every one month I have to reformat it cause my iTunes can't be read it. I have this feeling of throwing it away or sell it. If I sell it, I'll buy another iPod. But should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another topic to talk about is love. I don't understand why. Why do we have to fall in love? Why do we fall in love? Is it a natural thing? I would rather concentrate on my studies than holding hands 24 hours with a girl. But I can help it. I have fall in love. I fell in love with someone who is attached. What's worst, the guy that she's with is my friend. Oh well, one of her friends is hinting me that she has already attached and to get lost from her life. Can I have 'us' back?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-2697093110287815807?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/2697093110287815807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=2697093110287815807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2697093110287815807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/2697093110287815807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-15th-birthday-siti-nadia-binte.html' title=''/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pJS5i4aJgY4/SW9NW9483uI/AAAAAAAAANk/I0QA7uBdTX4/s72-c/DSC03070.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008370490652953423.post-6887902532926852271</id><published>2009-01-13T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T23:41:53.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cintamu Tidak Bermakna</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;'Lama bercinta, bukan tanda sayang.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sayang menyayang, bukan tanda setia.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Setia di bibir, tak pasti di hati'            &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;--&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Usah diturut kata hati - Data&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cry. That's all we do when we're heartbroken. Crying in pain as if she were to return back to your arms. Why? I don't really understand why. A man like him, who has patience, who loved you so much, who would sacrifise everything. Why must you leave? Both of you were an examples of love that were never to be broken. Both of you were an example for me. But things happen. I didn't really expect it to happen. I am in shock. Cheer up, no point of crying. The first is always a painful one unless you survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally and yes, I am blogging. Ashaa, nampak! Dah update eh. Its been so long. I had trouble with studies but I am trying my best to cope with it. O'Level results has been revealed. Some happy faces, some sad faces. A friend of mine got points that I never in my whole life will achieve it, he was crying outside the hall. Imagine that. I can see that his parents have high expectations on him. Why? Why do you set high expectations on your child? You want their money in future? To me, parents who have high expectations are selfish, they don't think of their children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to sleep now. I might be blogging tomorrow, see if the amount of hmwks given.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-6887902532926852271?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/6887902532926852271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=6887902532926852271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6887902532926852271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/6887902532926852271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/cintamu-tidak-bermakna.html' title='Cintamu Tidak Bermakna'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-9185405827010162036</id><published>2009-01-09T15:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T15:34:53.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiada Lagi</title><content type='html'>I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-9185405827010162036?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/9185405827010162036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=9185405827010162036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9185405827010162036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/9185405827010162036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/tiada-lagi.html' title='Tiada Lagi'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-31409785074406215</id><published>2009-01-07T22:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T22:33:30.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger To Be Dead For Awhile.</title><content type='html'>Sorry for not posting lately. I've been busy. Homework, revision and stuff. I still have a Malay book review to do which I really hate doing it. So this means, I won't be online and blogging that much. But I promise you; when I come back, I'll have something interesting for you to read. Ok, tata!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-31409785074406215?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/31409785074406215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=31409785074406215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/31409785074406215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/31409785074406215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/blogger-to-be-dead-for-awhile.html' title='Blogger To Be Dead For Awhile.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1197624046552556432</id><published>2009-01-02T05:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T05:06:01.338+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My wish is to change your life.'/><title type='text'>2008; The Sounds That Are Never To Be Forgotten</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As I hear everyone counting down to the very last second of 2008, I was brought back to the moments that is going to pass by and never to step again. I was brought back to some happy and unhappy times of my great life during this unforgettable year. I would be proud to tell my kids about my life one day, especially the year 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was this moment that made me the happiest man on earth. Never have I been so glad to find this girl. She's the friendliest and a very kind-hearted girl. Her name was kind of special and unique. That one word just meant so much for me. Her name was Balqis, Balqis binte Razak. She's the first one to show me what love meant on earth. Her touch, her hugs and her kisses were so special. Everytime we touch, I have this feeling of not letting her go. As if I want her to stay right by myside everyday. But things get out of hand, I did some mistakes that made me regret doing it. Our hearts went seperate ways and never to come back in the land of hope and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mistakes. Everyone does mistakes. Its our decision to change it, take that mistake that you've done, realise and improve. Everyone needs a second chance to shine. But when you change to a better man, don't forget about consequences. Everything in this world has consequences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As school starts on 2nd January 2008, I felt ashamed to be in school. I was repeated again at secondary 3 and I didn't knew much of my juniors. I remember having a fight with someone due to staring one another. Staring was one of the things that I hated much, especially at a place where you knew nobody. So one by one, I stared back at them. 2008 made me wild. 2008 made me knew more about gangs and culture but never have I fall into their traps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As they starts the countdown to a new chapter in everyone's lifes, I saw a star. A shining one. I remember Hajar texting me, to make a wish on that shining star during the countdown. I made a wish. Not one, but two. I hope in 2009, I realise my mistakes in 2008 and never to repeat them again. And lastly, the wish that I really hope to come true. With whatever I do, I want to change people's lifes. I want to see a smile in everyone's faces. I don't care if I have to go through a hard time or I'm the one who has to suffer, all I want is everyone to realise that living on earth is not forever. God gave you one life, live it to the fullest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;From God we came,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To God we will return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yours Truely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mohammad Danial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;It's 5.00am and I'm not asleep yet. Few more minutes left for me to prepare for school. I just can't wait to meet my friends and teachers. I had a chat with Faiz just now. I asked him about his life during 2008 and he said that he finally understand alot right now. He made me realise who was I. Till now, I still don't know who am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faiz; You're a good kid you know that? Just that you try too hard.&lt;br /&gt;Me; Too hard? What you mean?&lt;br /&gt;Faiz; Like, when you put you mind onto something. You do it and you do and you do it. You're trying too hard. Maybe that's the reason why you're stress out in life. Learn to relax dude. God only gave us one chance to live but he gave us lots of chances to be who we want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this, now I am finally ready to say this; 'Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1197624046552556432?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1197624046552556432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1197624046552556432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1197624046552556432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1197624046552556432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/2008-sounds-that-are-never-to-be.html' title='2008; The Sounds That Are Never To Be Forgotten'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1271835758401963394</id><published>2009-01-01T21:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T22:30:48.255+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009!</title><content type='html'>Yes, its the new year today. And yes, its time for everyone to change.&lt;br /&gt;'Buang yang keruh, ambil yang jernih.'&lt;br /&gt;'Let the past go, let bygones be bygones.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with Izham and Izdi on new year's eve. It was a last minute plan though. I didn't want to go out cause I wanna watch movies on HBO. And I felt lazy to go out. I was watching Transformers when Izham called me which is around 8pm. It was my first time watching Transformers, I know I'm slow, and I want to watch till the end but that fat pig asked me to come down Clementi right away. So I did. But I didn't know what's the after the countdown. Izham didn't told me that he was going KTV with his cousins after the countdown, that bloody pig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was just me, Izham and Izdi watching countdown. The rest of Clementi peeps aren't there cause they're out with family. Izdi brought us to some unknown place in my life to watch the fireworks. All I could see was construction site, how to see the fireworks? So I was like whining and whining to go Marina/Esplanade cause I know lots of 'people' are there. Yes people, youknowiknow. So we ate at lau pa sat and proceeded to some place full of bayars! cb, you freaks smell like rotten cheesedale sia. Go back to your country lah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat at some place infront of a bar. The smell of alcohol makes me want to drink and get drunk. We sat there waiting for the countdown. Then we started talking about 2008. I realise 2008 does changed most of us. But to me, it changed the whole me and it felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the countdown starts. Fireworks were incredible. Fireworks reminds me of that someone. We promised eaceh other that we will watch it together someday. Yes, I still do remember that. Ain, one day we'll watch together. I won't break the promise, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izham left with his cousins and it was left with me and Izdi. And I felt uncomfortable, not because of him but I felt somethings wrong. So I went back home. Luckily that my house is just like a 10minutes walk from Boon Lay interchange, if not I'll be regretting of going back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a shock of my life went I entered the living room. I saw something shiny on the dinner table. So I switched on the lights. And yes!! I've got Taufik's new album! I was like jumping all around the house with the album in my hands. Hahaha, phew. That was what I wanted for new year's gift. Thank you, thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't took much picture cause my cellphone camera is an ass. Fucked up camera. I want a camera!! Ok, bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No mood to update more. I'm dye my hair black now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1271835758401963394?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1271835758401963394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1271835758401963394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1271835758401963394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1271835758401963394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2009/01/goodbye-2008-hello-2009.html' title='Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009!'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-7470997031185179997</id><published>2008-12-31T04:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T06:27:59.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Video That Can Change Your World.</title><content type='html'>Thanks to Aidah, thankyouthankyou! I'm hearing 'KepadaNya (feat. Hady Mirza) - Taufik Batisah' from his new album, Suria Hatiku. I don't know where she got that song from but I don't give a damn. That song keeps playing over and over and over again even when I've closed my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this line that Taufik said, &lt;em&gt;'Wahai manusia sedarlah dirimu, hidup di dunia hanya sementara.' &lt;/em&gt;My mind was like, wow. With just one sentence, it made me reflect all those things that I've done in the past, even the bad things. Where will I go from here? That's the question. I know I'm excited over the new year, a new change but I'm scared. I'm scared if I would fall more deeper in and never to crawl back up to life. That's what I most feared of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my eyes were shut tightly, the song were still playing in my head. It's telling me something, to change my life, be good in life, think of the bad things I'll cause in near future. When my eyes were shut and the the song playing in my head, I can picture a video. The video was really a life-changing experience. It goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hakim lost his dad since he was a kid. His dad left his family in misery and never to return. Hakim had no choice but to stay with his mom in a one-room rented flat. Hakim fell for the wrong kind of friend when he entered secondary school. He bacame rude to his mom. He tries to show his true colours but due to his love for his mom, he dares not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, while his mom was watching the news. She saw Hakim on tv. It's not because of the good deed Hakim has done but he did something bad. He was caught for drug trafficking and was sentence to 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Hakim was behind bars, regretting of what he had done, his mom fell sick. Crying for him all night, waiting for him to knock on the door. But waiting was finally over. She let out her last breath while praying to god for her son's safety. Noboby nor even Hakim's relative told him about his mom's death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hakim was release as early as it was stated due to his good behaviour behind the thick, dark and small walls. He wanted to suprise his mom and he soon took a taxi home. Upon reaching his flat, he saw many slippers and shoes outside his doorstep. He entered and he saw almost everyone with their shocked faces. He saw his uncle and asked where's his mom. All his uncle did was handing him a glass of water and asked him to sit down. Hakim refused and kept asking about his mom. The glass of water that he was holding slipped from his hands and broke into pieces. He fell flat to his knees. He didn't felt the pain in his knees but his heart was the one feeling it. He finally regret do what he did. He never wanted to leave his mom alone, crying for his mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stared down to his mom's grave. Tears rolled down his cheeks as if those tears could bring her back to life. Like once his mom prayed for Hakim's safety, Hakim prayed to god for her safety in afterlife and her peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally done! I want it to be recorded! I want a video of it! With 'KepadaNya (feat. Hady Mirza) - Taufik Batisah' as the soundtrack. But how? I have to send this to my uncle who had done 'Take On Me - A1' video and Taufik's 'I Dream' rejected video. But I only meet him like once in every year which is on Hari Raya. I want this video recorded and make everyone realise that you don't have much time in this world. But its not too late to change yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wahai manusia, sedarlah dirimu&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hidup di dunia hanya sementara&lt;br /&gt;Dekatkan diri padaNya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-7470997031185179997?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/7470997031185179997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=7470997031185179997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7470997031185179997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/7470997031185179997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/video-that-can-change-your-world.html' title='Video That Can Change Your World.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-4459072955297664493</id><published>2008-12-30T22:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T00:51:41.721+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Yearn For Your Return.</title><content type='html'>What had happen to us? Why do we have to fight? Why do you have to leave? Why does everyone have to leave? Is it something that has to do with me? Or is my dance steps wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesyesyes, finally! I'm over her! I woke up and I never have to go through what I had been going through lately. Tears didn't rolled down anymore, not thinking of you anymore cause I'm thinking of .... dancing? I realise that all is just a waste of time. Loving you while you're in love with someone else, crying every night and day while you're having a happy life outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been staying in this dark room of mine. Door and windows are closed. Not even a fresh air gets to enter this room. I could even make this room flooded if I cry every night and day... NOT! Which kind of freak can make a room flooded by their own tears? Life is not a cartoon world. Now its time for a change. 2009 is coming in 25 hours more. And I'm sure I'll be changing. Good or bad, its up to God. If good, I'll make sure I'll make everyone proud. If bad, then I'll chop off everone's head when they pissed me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's the last day of 2008. And nobody's free to go out with me? What the fish! I want to cuci mata people! I guess I have to watch the countdown on tv. Best jugak! There's a show, Love is Cinta, and I can't missed it. I want to watch it over and over and over again. There's more show on tv but I can't remember. Channel 5 is getting more and more entertaining, yknow. Air Force One coming, Underworld coming. What else? I heard One Tree Hill's coming back? Can't wait for 2009!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving 2008 is kind of a pain in the ass, yknow. 2008 suddenly changed my whole life. Seriously, it did changed my life. For one moment, I was this nerd kid who had his baggy school pants, his armani hairstyle, his school socks was as high as a soccer socks (that's when I was in primary school!), gets bullied by almost all of his friends. But now, what had happen to me? Everything changed. But 2008 is when I felt different, as if I was more matured. 2008 is when I've changed my looks, my attitude and what more? If only I could rewind time back to October 2008, I would. I'll miss 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i wanna dance!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-4459072955297664493?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/4459072955297664493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=4459072955297664493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4459072955297664493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/4459072955297664493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-yearn-for-your-return.html' title='I Yearn For Your Return.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-1779576024289195564</id><published>2008-12-26T23:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T00:04:04.918+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson For The Young And Old.</title><content type='html'>Ever had a dream of wanting someone that you wanted to live with till you grow old? Ever had this feeling that you'll gonna be loved by someone special till forever? I do. I always have high hopes when I have someone in my arms. Hopes that can be too high and when it is smashed to the ground, the heart too, will be smashed and broken into small pieces. I don't understand why must everyone leave. Is it because of me or the love we shared were no longer there? But we did promised together that we will never leave each other, didn't we? Too love each other to the very best, too care for each other. That was all I asked for from love. But it seems so hard. It seems so damn hard that you can't take it and you have to leave. Leaving me in misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its always been the same thing I'm going through in my life. When someone's loving me truely, madly, deeply, I'll take advantage of it. I asked for more. I always have to fall for another when I've got a good one by myside. Its just that I'm too easy to fall in love with just some sweet sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here, staring at your dp every single night. Why has everything changed? What was lacking in me? I left someone for you. Everything I do never seems enough for you. That money I got to get you that ring was not from me, it was from grandma. She told me to keep it for my lunch but instead I bought it for you. But what happen? You lost it and you said you didn't cared. I'm not mad at you but I still love you. I want you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with Nadia, Nadd, Faiz, ZhaoLiang and Haiqal. I don't know why when the boys were searching for chicks, I wasn't excited at all. I don't feel like finding a new one. Cause I know when I've found someone, that someone will sooner or later will leave me. And they were walking around the SkyPark, I was thinking of her. That was why I became quite. I'm confuse, damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this life of mine that I'm leading, I could teach the young and old of how unkindness of love can get. Never to fall in love with someone else when you've got one great girlf/boyf. If you leave your girlf/boyf for another one, its not going to last long. Trust me, karma do works. She believes that karma's gonna hit me one day, and it did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-1779576024289195564?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/1779576024289195564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=1779576024289195564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1779576024289195564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/1779576024289195564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/lesson-for-young-and-old.html' title='A Lesson For The Young And Old.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8815800769087761106</id><published>2008-12-25T22:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T23:13:41.151+08:00</updated><title type='text'>25th; the day that it first started.</title><content type='html'>Now I finally understand why, why I was so damn sad, pissed off. Its 25th today. I didn't even notice the date till she texted me saying, 'Happy 1st month tak menjadi'. 25th November 2008; her birthday, our date. The day when I proposed and she said yes. The day that made me nervous as ever. The day that didn't go out as plan but still I made it happen. It all happen on that day. It just made me as happy as ever. 25th; forever in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Butterfly are just gonna be friends. Guess what? She's dating some online guy name Aaron. She loves that guy. As soon as she said sorry, I knew something's wrong. Something bad's going to happen. And I was right. So it seems like I... am going to concentrate on my studies. 5 years and still will be counting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cb, I sound like a despo sia. Nak pegi, pegi ah. I'm not gonna say, I'll still love you. You're leaving me and why should I wait for you while you're enjoying your freaking life outside? I'm done with the 5 years. Penat aku count. Mcm budak bodoh sial. Peh puki ah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8815800769087761106?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8815800769087761106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8815800769087761106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8815800769087761106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8815800769087761106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/25th-day-that-it-first-started.html' title='25th; the day that it first started.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-3831207047543862609</id><published>2008-12-25T00:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T02:59:48.594+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Do It, I Just Can't.</title><content type='html'>Eventhough I've got Butterfly right back in my arms. I just can't do it. I can't fall in love. I just can't be in love. I'm too confuse right now. My mind is still thinking of her, my heart is still loving her. You should know who's her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out how my life is. Sometimes up, sometimes down. Like what Nadd says, I can even write a story about my life. It will be a great story. Very interesting cause it will include family problems, cheated by the same girl twice, loving two girls at the same time, breaking someone's heart, heartbroken by someone. Interesting right? Oh well, I'm too lazy to write about it. But I'm writing about something else. Yes Heamen, I'll complete it as soon as I can. Ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too lazy to blog about today. I did met Butterfly. Not meeting her tomorrow, Friday and Saturday. Bye. I'll love her like I had never loved someone before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-3831207047543862609?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/3831207047543862609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=3831207047543862609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3831207047543862609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3831207047543862609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-cant-do-it-i-just-cant.html' title='I Can&apos;t Do It, I Just Can&apos;t.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8146040538388522479</id><published>2008-12-24T00:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T01:40:47.302+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Love Is All I Need.</title><content type='html'>I met Butterfly today/yesterday. I was waiting for Butterfly at around 9am at Clementi control station. For the love and for the work, I woke up early. The interview was at 2pm, but I just want to send her to work. I saw Butterfly and her mom. My mother-in-law to be? Still long way to go lah. I didn't recognise her cause she didn't wear the scarf that she always wears when I met her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Clementi's Mcd for breakfast. She wants to treat me but I just took the $2 meal. Not good to spend on other's money. Took 285 to Pandan Loop. The workplace was (no comment). Sent them and went to grandma's house to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at 1.35pm. I decide to cancel out the interview cause I don't think its the right time for me to work. I've to soccer training to attend every Monday and Friday without fail. I'm doing whatever it takes for GESS B'Division soccer boys to get through the semi-finals. I know its a big step, a big dream but I have faith with the boys. As a vice-captain, I must have faith. What's the captain doing? Where are you? Anyways, onward GESSians!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Haqiz house to get my iPod cable and update on my music list. Finally, my iPod is working again. Glad to have it back to live. Then went back to grandma's house to wait for the time to pick up Butterfly from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reached there around 5.30+pm. Waited, waited and waited. Finally saw her glum, tired face out of the building. She was shocked to see me, eventhough I've told her that I'm picking her up. From that glum, tired face I saw, it turns to a red, happy face. She can't stop laughing when she sees me, that's what she says. Crazy people. Lepak at her place till night? I don't know what time was that. But I knew I spent plenty time with her. And we can't stop laughing and smiling till tears came out. Tears of joy eh sayangku, bukan bende lain tau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sending Butterfly to work again tmr. Meeting at her house! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kau bagaikan udara&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yang membantu aku untuk terus hidup di atas dunia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tanpamu ku lemah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pasti aku tak perdaya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kerna kau mahakarya cinta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8146040538388522479?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8146040538388522479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8146040538388522479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8146040538388522479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8146040538388522479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/your-love-is-all-i-need.html' title='Your Love Is All I Need.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-3647270010268454270</id><published>2008-12-22T23:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T00:50:58.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Three Words Still Can't Come Out.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;8 years of knowing you, 5 years of admiring you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two simply great, wonderful days. Yesterday and today. 21st and 22nd of december 2008. I finally got to see my old friend, my old crush. Without this friend of mine, Hajar, I don't know where to find her. For 8 years of knowing each other and 5 years of admiring her, I finally made my first move. For that 5 years of admiring her or loving her, I had never spoke those three words that I could easily said it to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lost contact for almost 2 years. But still that name of hers were still fresh in my heart. We had gone through lots of shits. Family problems, love problems and much more. To me, all those stupid problems would be gone when she's around me. Her presence would conquer all of it, step it, as if they had never happen. Maybe I couldn't find the right one to be my soulmate cause you were the one? Maybe all of the relationships I had were never to last long cause we were suppose to be together and last till forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost 2 years we lost contact, she really changed. From the bad girl to good girl. Lets say, Bad girl gone good. Her english was power! There's this slang in it, as if she's from the States. She never had lots of piercings anymore. The rest didn't change. Still love it this way. Her looks doesn't matter but her heart does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name is 'Butterfly'. I gave her name randomly cause I don't want anybody to know. But two from the outside world has seen her, Heamenjit Singh and Jessie Lam. Goddamn it you two. Why Jurong Point? Watch at other places lah, alamak. All I know Heamen's gonna start his crap when he came online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank you, Hajar, for bringing her back to me. Bringing her back to my life. Sincerely I said thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today/yesterday, 22nd of December. I was suppose to go for an interview that Butterfly told me about. Her mom wants people to work. Butterfly wants me to work with her so I took it. Was suppose to be there around 2pm. But I forgot about the soccer match between GESS and OSS. So I had to cancel the interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won. Score? I don't know. All I know, we scored alot. And for the first time, I didn't score during the match. Mr Lim said I was the Man-Of-The-Match cause I worked really hard. Played Centre Midfield for the first time and I didn't really felt much tired. Stamina was good. I guess its because I'm cutting down on my ciggs? Happy? Happy ah! Man-Of-The-Match yknow! How good can I get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the match, I checked my phone. 3 missed calls from Butterfly. So I called back. She said she wants to go out, she invited me but I didn't picked up the phone. She said she's meeting Hajar at Fontier Library, so I followed. Hajar was mad cause we were late. Sorry babe! My fault. Hajar went back home, me and Butterfly went Jurong Point to eat. I only got $2+ and I thought of eating at Banquet but it was full of people. So we went to Mcd. Halfway while we were eating, guess who I saw? Heamen and Jessie. My mouth dropped, the Milo that I was holding almost slipped through my hands. I didn't expect anyone that I knew to be here, at Jurong. I guess Singapore's too small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sent Butterfly to her house which is located at Commonwealth. I was from Tiong to Jurong, then Jurong to Commonwealth. I was tired but she took it. I didn't felt pain or tired when she's around me. No joke. Inside the lift, I gave her a goodnight kiss. For the first time in 8 years, I gave her that kiss. Never I had the intention of doing it but it just happen. She went quite. As the door closed, she looked at me and said, 'I felt like not going home'. Maybe she thinking of staying with me tonight but I can't. With family problems I'm facing, it's not a good time to bring her home. One day, she will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Should the love in me for her grows or should it just stay this way. Nadia! I need help!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-3647270010268454270?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/3647270010268454270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=3647270010268454270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3647270010268454270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/3647270010268454270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/those-three-words-still-cant-come-out.html' title='Those Three Words Still Can&apos;t Come Out.'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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-5008370490652953423.post-8544791901904604371</id><published>2008-12-20T00:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T02:20:22.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I be in 2020?</title><content type='html'>I got to know about them. I've got ways. It was all silence when I read it. Blaming myself for what had happen made me feel better. I really did a stupid mistake. Or maybe not? But I know she's the best there is but I left her. Why? Because I fall with some girl who can't stop telling me sweet words and I fall for that. Everything has changed since I did that stupid mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I could fastforward time. I want to see who's riding on my bike behind me, who's holding my hands, who's sleeping on my bed. I just can't wait for the future. Start a new life with the one I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its 1.30am right now. I can't sleep. I'm missing Fatima suddenly. I don't know if she does. Everyone's asking me to move on, forget about Tyqa. I can move on but can't forget about her. So I did my thing, I've move on. But I'm scared. Scared that I'll get hurt once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently chatting with Nadia online. Told her I was listening to Misteri Jam 12. Then she tried listening it online. She was so excited because of it. But she got to listen to it 3mins later then me. Then there's this song KC edited from 'Ini Satu Kisah - Aliff Aziz' to 'Ini Kisah MJ12'. Kekek giler oi! I like the part where the cik pon started singing. Hahaha, craps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off now. To bed, duhh. Nights everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5008370490652953423-8544791901904604371?l=lovecertified.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/feeds/8544791901904604371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5008370490652953423&amp;postID=8544791901904604371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8544791901904604371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5008370490652953423/posts/default/8544791901904604371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovecertified.blogspot.com/2008/12/can-i-be-in-2020.html' title='Can I be in 2020?'/><author><name>Lyrically-Authentic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08542789422196316852</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></feed>
