<?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-36070672</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:49:57.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'>Just some random crap from the mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36070672.post-2439504213822106573</id><published>2007-04-12T00:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:26:22.238+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back with Cheese, the Jap Rev</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After missing a few months, I am finally back on my usuals. Some nonsense, a little bit of this, and a little bit of, those. Been in bits, but all the King's Men have put me back again. Now let's introduce you to some brand new cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jap Rev&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We Ninjas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not Geishas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Sushi So Juicy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dress me up in Yohji&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kawaii Hello Kitty&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drive by in Suzuki&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dance Dance Yakuza&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Konichiwa Godzilla&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Samurai Hi Hi Hi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So drunk wake up with Bonsai&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Harajuku kids in Cosplay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chotto Matte, where is the sake?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Taken from: Juice&lt;br /&gt;Reference to: The Butter Factory 1st Anniversary Party **UNITED FLAVAS OF JAPAN**&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-2439504213822106573?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/2439504213822106573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=2439504213822106573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/2439504213822106573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/2439504213822106573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2007/04/back-with-cheese-jap-rev.html' title='Back with Cheese, the Jap Rev'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-969343784846652670</id><published>2007-01-14T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:27:05.832+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinderella</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the clock striked twelve, the fairy godmother's magic ended. Cinderella reluctantly left the party. She reluctantly left the prince. As she left, it must be by accident that she left one of her glass slipper on the flight of stairs. Strangely, the fairy godmother's magic only works on Cinderella, so the glass slipper did not disappear when the magic ended. When the prince found the glas slipper, he demanded every girl in town to fit on the glass slipper. Whoever fits the glass slipper would be married to the prince as his princess.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the prince arrived at Cinderella's house, all girls tried on the glass slipper. All, except for Cinderella herself. She hid herself in the closet, refusing to see the prince. The prince left the house, disappointed, for that was the last house he visited in town. He searched for Cinderella but to no avail.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Months later, it was the prince's birthday. He ordered a party and everyone in town was invited. It was also to search for a princess for the prince. Back at home, Cinderella received the invitation to the prince's party. As much as Cinderella wanted to go, she couldn't have for she was in rags. She asked for the fairy godmother's help. The fairy godmother used her magic to give Cinderella a new gown, a pair of glass slippers and a carriage to go to the party.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When Cinderella arrived at the party, she went to look for the prince. He was not at his throne. She passed by the dance floor, it was all quiet. Curious, she took a peek. She saw the prince dancing with another girl in glass slippers. With tears in her eyes, she ran out of the palace.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Back at home, she blamed the fairy godmother for enchanting another girl with her magic. The fairy godmother said nothing. With a wave of her wand, everything made of fairy godmother's magic disappeared. Everything except for the pair of glass slippers. The fairy godmother disappeared and never appeared before Cinderella again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-969343784846652670?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/969343784846652670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=969343784846652670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/969343784846652670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/969343784846652670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2007/01/cinderella.html' title='Cinderella'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116654375335569934</id><published>2006-12-31T12:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T13:31:26.068+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Grey Bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is a story of Tatty Teddy, the grey bear with a blue nose. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flatoutblind.org/tatty/index.php?about"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.flatoutblind.org/tatty/index.php?about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Another part of the story was written but never released, due to its melancholy nature. The story continues like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having the bear was the world to her. She would bring him everywhere she went in her bag. She loved him so much that every night, she would tug him to bed with her. They were always together and never apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, one day, the Girl had to head to the woods. After much thought, she left the Grey Bear a side. She kissed him good-bye and left home. The Grey Bear was now alone at home. The Grey Bear was now furious. He thought, ‘Why didn’t the Girl take me along with her?’, ‘Why did the Girl leave me aside?’, ‘Doesn’t she love me anymore?’ He blamed her for leaving him alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Girl returned home, she was exhausted but still picked up and hugged the Grey Bear. Instead of welcoming her home, she scolded the Girl. ‘Why didn’t You take me along with You?’, ‘Why did You leave me aside?’, ‘Don’t You love me anymore?’ Upon hearing this, the Girl burst into tears. She was hurt by the Grey Bear’s words. Despite that, the Girl still tugged him to bed with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another day, the Girl needed to return to the woods. After much thought, she left the Grey Bear a side. She kissed him good-bye and left home. The Grey Bear was now alone at home, once again. The Grey Bear was furious. When the Girl returned home, the Grey Bear scolded her, blaming her for leaving him alone. Upon hearing this, the Girl burst into tears. She was hurt by the Grey Bear’s words, and also very disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After crying, the Girl left the Grey Bear outside her home. She had abandoned him. The Grey Bear was furious. He banged on the door and demanded to enter. The Girl ignored him. The Grey bear was puzzled. He knocked on the door and requested to enter. The Girl ignored him. The Grey Bear was sad. He stood outside the door and begged to enter. The Girl ignored him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Grey Bear climbed to the window and looked inside. He saw the Girl packing a set of soiled and torn clothes. It was a new set she was wearing when she left for the woods. The Grey Bear turned to look at another corner. He saw a familiar spot. It was where the Girl had left him, a side of her bed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After crying, the Girl left the Grey Bear outside her home. She had abandoned him. The Grey Bear was furious. He banged on the door and demanded to enter. The Girl ignored him. The Grey bear was puzzled. He knocked on the door and requested to enter. The Girl ignored him. The Grey Bear was sad. He stood outside the door and begged to enter. The Girl ignored him.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Grey Bear climbed to the window and looked inside. He saw the Girl packing a set of soiled and torn clothes. It was a new set she was wearing when she left for the woods. The Grey Bear turned to look at another corner. He saw a familiar spot. It was where the Girl had left him, a side of her bed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Grey Bear stood outside the Girl’s home, crying. He now realized why the Girl abandoned him. He now knew how disappointed the Girl was. He now knew why the Girl cried. The Grey ear regretted saying those words to the Girl. He stood at the door, hoping for the Girl to open the door once again. The Grey Bear waited and waited, but she never opened the door.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116654375335569934?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116654375335569934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116654375335569934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116654375335569934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116654375335569934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/12/grey-bear.html' title='A Grey Bear'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116662993246504130</id><published>2006-12-21T12:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:27:34.467+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something so Precious,&lt;br /&gt;To be Lost Forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I kept my Promises,&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I could give You Eternal Love,&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I had trusted You,&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished You told me more things,&lt;br /&gt;But You didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I understood You more,&lt;br /&gt;But I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished You gave me another chance,&lt;br /&gt;But You never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished We never have to part,&lt;br /&gt;But We did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feelings may Fade,&lt;br /&gt;But Memories will Stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Love is always the Sweetest,&lt;br /&gt;Because You are my Sugar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116662993246504130?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116662993246504130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116662993246504130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116662993246504130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116662993246504130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/12/first-love.html' title='First Love'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116539644387337123</id><published>2006-12-08T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:27:36.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What the word 'sorry' really meant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means not doing it in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means admitting the mistake.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means regretting the mistake.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means never repeating the mistake.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means a plea for another chance.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means never meant to hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means never wanting to make you cry.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means crying with you.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means you are my everything.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry means I love you still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For saying it so many times, the word 'sorry' had lost its original meaning. But I will still say it to you,&lt;br /&gt;I'm Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116539644387337123?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116539644387337123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116539644387337123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116539644387337123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116539644387337123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/12/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116180477247019714</id><published>2006-10-26T00:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T03:32:52.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of a Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is a story of a child who only lived for 20 days.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the first day, the child learnt how to walk. It has been a long day, for the child and the child's parents, as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the second day, the child learnt how to talk. It has been another long day, for the child and the child's parents, as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the third day, the child started to read and write. Through a day's program the child is tired, as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the fourth day, the child was sent to his grandparents' place. The day ended under the care of the child's grandparents, as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the fifth day, the child had many new toys to play with. He showed his new toys to some people, but was being ignored as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the sixth day, the child was still playing with his new toys. Now the child had two friends to share them with, feeling delighted as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the seventh day, the child attented school. He had a good time in school, and got nice results. The child was proud as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the eight day, the child was a good and diligent boy. Good conduct with good results. Everyone praised the child as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the nineth day, the child's parents brought him back under their care. They moved into a new house as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the tenth day, the child was unable to adapt to this new place. The child blamed his parents as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the eleventh day, the child made two new friends. They shared their toys with the child as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the twelth day, the child and his three friends were separated. They all had moved to a new home as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the thirteenth day, the child lost his grandfather. He left the child a silver watch as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the fourteenth day, the child was getting used to his new home. Everyone there got their own toys as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the fifteenth day, the child was throwing tantrums at his parents. The child got into many quarrels with his parents as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the sixteenth day, the child was finding new people to play his toys with. They had no intention to share their toys with the child as he laid in his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the seventeenth day, the child went to another new home. Everyone there got more toys than the child as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the eighteenth day, the child had four friends who were willing to let him share their toys. He played happily as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the nineteenth day, the child saw his friend's photo album. A collection of past memories. The child saw his life flashed by as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the twentieth day, the child was told that he was going to die today. He wasn't afraid. The child met a girl later who was willing to share her toys with the child. The child and the girl had a wonderous time playing together. The child told the girl he was going to die that day. The girl said that someone would think of the child even after he left. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the evening, the girl went home. The child could only see her back. As the girl left the child shed a tear. While walking back home the child thought of the day he just had, he shed another tear. The child thought of the writings the girl gave him, he shed another tear. The child thought of the picture the girl drew him, he shed another tear. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Back at home, the child was sitting on his bed. The child was now afraid to die. By now all of the child's family and friends and the girl had all gathered by his bed. The child was unable to see them until he closed his eyes. He shed his last tear, as he laid on his bed to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116180477247019714?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116180477247019714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116180477247019714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116180477247019714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116180477247019714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/10/story-of-child.html' title='Story of a Child'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116102775097249989</id><published>2006-10-17T02:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T14:05:13.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;While sitting under my block, I noticed a piece of paper lying on the ground. Upon closer examination, it turned out to be a folded full-scape paper. I picked it up, open it up, and read it all. It was a cocky piece of trash. Not to mention funny too. A little difficult to understand fully, which is why we need to get our language right.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Time : 1.47am&lt;br /&gt;Date : 22nd Sept 98&lt;br /&gt;Yati....&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I wanna thank for the Birthday present you gave me. It really means a lot to me. Before I say goodbye, I wrote this letter to tell you how I felt. I understand that U're having problems in separating time with your friends and your steady but god made us so that we can learn from our mistakes. So I believe in all my heart that U can stop the habit of avoiding your stead and spent time equally with your friends.&lt;br /&gt;Yati, I love U so much that I can stop thinking of U. I couldn't believe that this is happening to me. Everything U wrote to me touched me on your'e sincerity. Everytime I read your letter, I remember the good times when we were together. Esp. the first time when I saw you in Big Splash. Speaking of Big Splash, I just came back from hospital GH because I have to stitch my head. Anyway it was love at first sight. I cried somany times reading your letter. I tried when I was with Ida to smile, but deep inside, nati i pedih seperti dicucuk sembilu.&lt;br /&gt;Yati, our relationship was going very well until you suddenly stopped calling me. Why must it happen 2 us. All the time, I told myself before I go 2 bed that I want 2 be with U 4- ever. Sometimes I can't even go 2 sleep. You're a very sweet, loving and religious girl in my point of view. I've been looking 4 a girl like U 4 years. You're my type but U have this tiny habit which U think that made this separation but remember this, people can change, I don't see why U can't.&lt;br /&gt;Yati, you're very lucky that I changed my attitude 4 U. Actually, before U know me, my behaviour is much worse. Its not like what you're thinking. I'm once a liar, an irresponsible person and take love like a game until I met U. When I met U, its like heaven. I changed my attitude. And the person U love is the new me. The old me is in the trash bag. What I'm trying to say, is that please change.&lt;br /&gt;And if what U think you wrote in your letter about how much you love me is true, prove 2 me that you can change your attitude. 2B honest, I think once you stop your habit, I'm sure you're the girl that every guy wants as the woman of their dreams. I want U now and I want U 4- ever. I'll be waiting 4 U, trust me on this, I'll be waiting. I love U so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;B missing U A LOT 2, SWEETHEART&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;GOODBYE, ME LIFE! (MY HEART)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;love love love love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;sign sign sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;KHAIRIL ANUAR#11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Your ROMEO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(2- JULIET)&lt;br /&gt;PS: Don't worry, after all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;this changed, I'll get you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;back my love. Call me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;after reading.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All names mentioned are based on actual events. Any similar names, events or other similarities is coincidental. Yea, old s' kool, you gotta love this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116102775097249989?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116102775097249989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116102775097249989' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116102775097249989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116102775097249989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/10/love-letter.html' title='Love Letter'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36070672.post-116092861386938840</id><published>2006-10-15T23:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T13:53:42.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction, and 5 Ways</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A good day to all reading this blog. Our first post was originally taken from my first blog, didn't turn out too well though. Yes, and while you are wondering whats the difference, this blog contain my thoughts AND my whining. So now let's start with something.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, my first thought.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5ways to find out if your son is turning gay: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Your son bought some new clothes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Your son dresses up nicer than he USED-TO in the past.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Your son goes out with girls instead of boys.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Your son puts eyeliner and black nail-polish just for kicks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Your son bought a new magnetic diamond earring.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Inspired by: My Mother&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dedicated to: My Mother&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116092861386938840?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116092861386938840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116092861386938840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116092861386938840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116092861386938840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/10/introduction-and-5-ways.html' title='Introduction, and 5 Ways'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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-36070672.post-116092722681943435</id><published>2006-10-15T23:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T13:54:55.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imperfection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had Wings, I would take you on my wings.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll be seen as a freak.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had an Umbrella, I'll shelter you from the rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll be keeping you dry.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Watch, I'll be able to stop time.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll find nothing lasts forever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Hat, I'll keep you with me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll be selfish.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Cloak, I'll make myself invisible to you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll not be able to see you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had Eyes, I'll be able to feel your heart.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll be able to do nothing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Mouth, I'll be able to make you smile.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll make you cry.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had Legs, I'll be able accompany you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll be left behind.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Heart, I will love you ever more.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll not be able to love you but myself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I had a Star, I will be able to light up the skies.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But if I do, I'll find myself ugly.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36070672-116092722681943435?l=romeoxite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/feeds/116092722681943435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36070672&amp;postID=116092722681943435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116092722681943435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36070672/posts/default/116092722681943435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://romeoxite.blogspot.com/2006/10/imperfection.html' title='Imperfection'/><author><name>romeoxite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12360323783678255109</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>
