<?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-6908786</id><updated>2011-04-22T11:31:30.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the beautiful disaster</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>423</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113222240839897822</id><published>2005-11-17T18:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T18:13:28.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MOVED&lt;/span&gt;! Relinks please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherylanne.net"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://www.cherylanne.net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing  &lt;/b&gt;here in my heart -  plus one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113222240839897822?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113222240839897822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113222240839897822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113222240839897822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113222240839897822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/11/moved-relinks-please.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113218918253954569</id><published>2005-11-17T08:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T08:59:42.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I apologize for the lack of updates. Am currently in the midst of designing the new site. And trying to convince myself I'm studying by not coming online. On top of that, the internet's been capped and I absolutely cannot deal with 56K connections. TYVM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113218918253954569?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113218918253954569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113218918253954569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113218918253954569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113218918253954569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-apologize-for-lack-of-updates.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113158666949603125</id><published>2005-11-10T09:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T13:19:01.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img.engadget.com/common/images/0523288107675165.JPG?0.34059251121279266" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like. Now someone tell me where I can get it please. Thank you very much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the oc season 3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113158666949603125?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113158666949603125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113158666949603125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113158666949603125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113158666949603125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-like.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113153458952357075</id><published>2005-11-09T19:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T19:14:49.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img476.imageshack.us/img476/2573/cimg92459ff.opt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://img476.imageshack.us/img476/2573/cimg92459ff.opt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://img467.imageshack.us/img467/6002/cimg92463zv.opt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://img467.imageshack.us/img467/6002/cimg92463zv.opt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Uh huh its our christmas tree. I feel like an incompetent idiot. What with exams a mere 20 days away and I'm drawing my castles in the sky and soaking in the holiday mood (a little too early I might say). Someone give me a huge hard push out of the clouds please. Thank you very much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;inside your heaven - carrie underwood&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113153458952357075?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113153458952357075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113153458952357075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113153458952357075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113153458952357075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/11/uh-huh-its-our-christmas-tree.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113101223814543063</id><published>2005-11-03T17:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T18:16:17.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 134px; height: 99px;" src="http://img497.imageshack.us/img497/149/cimg92128ck.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 134px; height: 100px;" src="http://img477.imageshack.us/img477/6169/cimg92136ok.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 136px; height: 101px;" src="http://img497.imageshack.us/img497/7170/cimg92148or.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm completely in luuuurrrve :P And now the world knows my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt; champagne high - sister hazel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113101223814543063?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113101223814543063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113101223814543063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113101223814543063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113101223814543063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-completely-in-luuuurrrve-p-and-now.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113075993845599064</id><published>2005-10-31T19:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T19:58:59.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Complete and total boredom leads to excessive blogging. The smell of chocolate cookies makes me smile. I'm putting up with the overly heated room for those babies. Can I not go back to singapore in december but to the north pole. I hate heat I hate heat I hate heat. I want winter back right now. Ok, I sound like an imbecile right now. Happy Halloween by the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;heart attack - sum 41&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113075993845599064?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113075993845599064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113075993845599064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113075993845599064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113075993845599064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/10/complete-and-total-boredom-leads-to.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-113040283676633260</id><published>2005-10-27T16:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T16:47:16.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/F/FR/FRE/FreeThePain/1128190204_Understanding.JPG" border="0" alt="Understanding" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dominant Personality&lt;/b&gt;: Understanding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Good Traits&lt;/b&gt;: You gravitate towards people,&lt;br /&gt;and are a shoulder to lean on. You give advice&lt;br /&gt;at any given time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bad Traits&lt;/b&gt;: You aren't close with any one&lt;br /&gt;person. You immerse yourself in other people's&lt;br /&gt;problems and forget your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;People see you as&lt;/b&gt;: Friendly, secretive, and&lt;br /&gt;popular. People envy you, and may try and use&lt;br /&gt;you as a tool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're most like&lt;/b&gt;: Grace. You both have&lt;br /&gt;positive relationships with people. Neither of&lt;br /&gt;you have close friends, but unlike graceful&lt;br /&gt;people, you try to help people out and aren't&lt;br /&gt;as arrogant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You need more&lt;/b&gt;: Solitude. You hardly get the&lt;br /&gt;chance to breathe when you take on the world's&lt;br /&gt;problems. You can't take other's&lt;br /&gt;responsibilities or put them before your own.&lt;br /&gt;Be selfish once in a while and discover who you&lt;br /&gt;really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/FreeThePain/quizzes/What's%20your%20dominant%20trait%3F%20(10%20unique%20results)/"&gt; What's your dominant trait? (10 unique results)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:-2;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i got bored :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;andrew's watching fifth gear behind :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-113040283676633260?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/113040283676633260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=113040283676633260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113040283676633260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/113040283676633260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/10/dominant-personality-understanding.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112985428595476508</id><published>2005-10-21T08:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T08:26:08.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img451.imageshack.us/img451/344/untitled2va.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 349px; height: 249px;" src="http://img451.imageshack.us/img451/344/untitled2va.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-click to enlarge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I could stop looking like an eskimo... Thunder-fucking-storm. Now I'll look like a drenched rat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112985428595476508?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112985428595476508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112985428595476508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112985428595476508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112985428595476508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/10/click-to-enlarge-just-when-i-thought-i.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112885753158071086</id><published>2005-10-09T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T19:32:11.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's weekends spent like this that just warms up the cold spring days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;things i'll never say - avril lavigne&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112885753158071086?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112885753158071086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112885753158071086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112885753158071086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112885753158071086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/10/its-weekends-spent-like-this-that-just.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112774394859823533</id><published>2005-09-26T22:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T13:20:27.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>People have everything yet they throw it all away. On the other side of the fence, someone has nothing at all and wants it all. And I am that someone. I want it all. I want that fairy tale romance, that movie love, my happy ending but it doesn't seem to be happening. It seems so distant, so unachievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112774394859823533?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112774394859823533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112774394859823533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112774394859823533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112774394859823533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/people-have-everything-yet-they-throw.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112773734230465577</id><published>2005-09-26T20:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T20:24:23.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 115px; height: 202px;" src="http://img311.imageshack.us/img311/2774/motorazrv3pink1bu.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img350.imageshack.us/img350/3411/motorolapinkrazrv38tt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; I like!! And it's out &lt;a href="http://news.com.com/Motorola+Q,+pink+Razr+for+the+holidays/2100-1041_3-5879274.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;this Christmas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;:/ Please shoot me, I was never a peeeeeeenkkkkk person!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112773734230465577?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112773734230465577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112773734230465577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112773734230465577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112773734230465577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-like-and-its-out-this-christmas.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112748248326630412</id><published>2005-09-23T21:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T23:05:05.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm amused. The press has the right to be racist but bloggers aren't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v246/donslice/findloot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 374px; height: 202px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v246/donslice/findloot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-click to enlarge-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112748248326630412?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112748248326630412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112748248326630412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112748248326630412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112748248326630412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-amused.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112702653092299075</id><published>2005-09-18T14:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T14:55:30.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sydney tomorrow. Would buy Krispy Kremes back but too bad I can't send them to Singapore so only Melbournians get them (: And yes I'm bored to the bone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112702653092299075?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112702653092299075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112702653092299075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112702653092299075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112702653092299075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/sydney-tomorrow.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112694402702495787</id><published>2005-09-17T15:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T16:00:27.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's not about forgiving and letting it all go. It's about the scars which serve as a perpetual reminder of the worthlessness. It's about hurting the one right beside because you can't forget. It's about wanting to give the best you have up because you can't forget. Then you realize it's all about you, and that it's always been about you. And you cry yourself to sleep because reality rips your apart inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;nobody's listening - linkin park&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112694402702495787?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112694402702495787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112694402702495787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112694402702495787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112694402702495787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/its-not-about-forgiving-and-letting-it.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112595880060435272</id><published>2005-09-06T06:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-07T09:25:13.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's times like these where I feel like a piece of paper. Used, stretched thin, recycled. I'm about to fall to pieces, about to cut the one around. It's now I see the diaphaneity of the mask. Yet there's a certain  tenacity within. Stuck in this moment where I push and stay still. I want to fall apart then get picked up and put together, like a piece of paper, but the intellectual hubris says no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real ones don't seem real. Hurt only the best and now there's the risk of losing it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-playing&lt;/span&gt; pieces of me - ashlee simpson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112595880060435272?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112595880060435272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112595880060435272' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112595880060435272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112595880060435272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/its-times-like-these-where-i-feel-like.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112587587718930174</id><published>2005-09-05T07:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T20:10:27.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No it isn't a sad excuse for being lazy. I'm just too in love with warm, toasty beds to walk out in the cold to go to class :P Alright, off to second class of the day :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;ge qian - jay chou&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112587587718930174?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112587587718930174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112587587718930174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112587587718930174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112587587718930174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/no-it-isnt-sad-excuse-for-being-lazy.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112561803222390353</id><published>2005-09-02T07:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T13:15:09.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When things get rough, when the sun starts shining, that's when I miss you guys the most. I miss the warm hugs that touch me all the way in the pits of my stomach, I miss sharing joy and watching the smiles light up all our faces. I miss you guys a whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I saw MelW yesterday in uni :\ My lab partner resembles someone's boy a whole lot which makes me wanna cry cause I miss you so much Ching :( I miss the times where MrKoh would "QC" the boy but now that the stupid singaporean government has taken you away from me, everything feels so weird. I hate how Ker, Kel and Ed are halfway around the world and that aussie is in a land of it's own. I hate how the only bitching I get to do with Mel and Yang depends on the amount of money in the phone card and 2 pathetic hours of time difference. I also hate not towning with Ben and Summer every saturday, just bitching about everyone and everything under the sun. And yes, my bruddah (Rik, Zik and Ed), Lawrence's place! The princesses and princes :( And of course my loves, the sweet darlings. You guys know who you are (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt; - standing right next to me - karla bonoff&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112561803222390353?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112561803222390353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112561803222390353' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112561803222390353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112561803222390353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/09/when-things-get-rough-when-sun-starts.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112547269206849684</id><published>2005-08-31T15:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T15:18:12.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The frailty of human relationships never fail to amuse me. True relationships don't require anyone freaking out the moment their backs are turned. At the risk of pin-pointing at anyone, I'm just glad for the real ones around (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the reason - hoobastank&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112547269206849684?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112547269206849684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112547269206849684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112547269206849684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112547269206849684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/frailty-of-human-relationships-never.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112537209100387114</id><published>2005-08-30T11:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T11:21:31.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I HATE DRAMA! I f-ing hate drama. I'm about to embarrass myself in front of 15 people in exactly 25 minutes and no, I'm not looking forward to it one bit. Did I already mention that I f-ing hate drama? Yes I do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112537209100387114?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112537209100387114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112537209100387114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112537209100387114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112537209100387114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-hate-drama-i-f-ing-hate-drama.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112356344686056454</id><published>2005-08-09T12:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T12:57:26.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="width: 139px; height: 104px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/CIMG0970.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img style="width: 140px; height: 104px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/CIMG0978.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me expressing utter and complete boredom. It was random but really sweet of her ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;yi lu xiang bei - jay chou&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112356344686056454?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112356344686056454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112356344686056454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112356344686056454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112356344686056454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/this-is-me-expressing-utter-and_09.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112332533424806798</id><published>2005-08-06T18:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T21:43:12.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Insipid yet productive first-saturday-in in Melbourne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Got those frozen memories up on the wall by my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Organized the music in the laptop. &lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Moved furniture around so that my laptop's now right in front of my TV.&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Half completed the psychology essay, moved on to chemistry then bio (which then rendered me a couch potato)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Over the phone bondings with Yang and my LST, which made my day seem less meaningless &lt;333&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;  &lt;/ul&gt; Oh yes, I'm so god damn obssessed with the soundtrack from 'The Wedding Planner'. Alright, back to the point of the post. I reckon I did more work today than any other day since I got to Melbourne. But this doesn't mean I'm okay with you leaving me all alone on a weekend ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the wedding planner on tv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112332533424806798?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112332533424806798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112332533424806798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112332533424806798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112332533424806798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/insipid-yet-productive-first-saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112307840534753664</id><published>2005-08-03T22:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T08:18:04.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 294px; height: 221px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/DSC00905.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;ADELINE TAN&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; my bestfriend in Melbourne!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY!!!!&lt;/span&gt; I hope you had a blast and that you loved your presents. Love you babeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. And!! I don't do birthday dedications on my blog ok. Be happy, PRETTY girl ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;3 days ago - mario winans&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112307840534753664?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112307840534753664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112307840534753664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112307840534753664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112307840534753664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/adeline-tan-my-bestfriend-in-melbourne.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112293537252462006</id><published>2005-08-02T06:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T06:29:32.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In your eyes, I see the girl I'm supposed to be. But I can't throw it all away; the mask I painstakingly created, the pain and bitterness I've encased in this stone, cold heart. I wish I could. Maybe I don't want to walk out of the sanctuary I've placed myself in. Just maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;don't stop believing - journey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112293537252462006?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112293537252462006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112293537252462006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112293537252462006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112293537252462006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/in-your-eyes-i-see-girl-im-supposed-to.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112290193646242335</id><published>2005-08-01T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T21:23:07.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 308px; height: 260px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/beforeafter.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; Haircut. AGAIN :\ Haven't been updating I know, I apologize for that. Life's been pretty much just that - Life! Although I think it would be better if I weren't just emo personified :\ The boy's been great. School's pretty alright. I'm hardly homesick, but I'm sick from missing all you darlings wherever you guys are )': In love with the city (though there's absolutely nothing to do) and the weather (though I constantly freeze myself due to my desperate need to look good and not like a snowman)! The gang here's been incredible, despite the drama thats reigning :\ Okay, I'm done here for today. Next update will be real soon, I promise (: Till then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Some things never get defined&lt;br /&gt;In your heart or in your mind&lt;br /&gt;It dont' make sense, what can you do&lt;br /&gt;So, I won't try making sense of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;love just is - hilary duff&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112290193646242335?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112290193646242335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112290193646242335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112290193646242335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112290193646242335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/08/haircut.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112263761275211666</id><published>2005-07-29T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T19:46:52.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not who you want me to be. I'm trying I really am. But sometimes it gets so tiring I just wanna let it all go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;if i ain't got you - alicia keyes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112263761275211666?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112263761275211666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112263761275211666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112263761275211666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112263761275211666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-not-who-you-want-me-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112241571199422379</id><published>2005-07-27T06:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T06:08:32.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It takes a colossal scare to make you realize how much you're worth (or not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;crawling in the dark - hoobastank&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112241571199422379?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112241571199422379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112241571199422379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112241571199422379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112241571199422379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/it-takes-colossal-scare-to-make-you.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112181514632335666</id><published>2005-07-20T07:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T16:41:33.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's so draining having to satisfy and fulfil each other's emotional needs. Not easy having to watch out for signs of unhappiness. It's like living with a walking time bomb and I'm not sure how long I can take it. I'm trying, believe me. But all this drama isn't gonna help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;pieces of me - ashlee simpson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112181514632335666?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112181514632335666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112181514632335666' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112181514632335666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112181514632335666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-so-draining-having-to-satisfy-and.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112100370831891511</id><published>2005-07-10T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T21:55:08.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When it comes down to the crunch, what's next&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112100370831891511?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112100370831891511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112100370831891511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112100370831891511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112100370831891511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/when-it-comes-down-to-crunch-whats.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112061921586603479</id><published>2005-07-06T10:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T11:06:55.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's an emotional beast, wrecking havoc on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;let me fall - bethany joy lenz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112061921586603479?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112061921586603479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112061921586603479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112061921586603479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112061921586603479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-emotional-beast-wrecking-havoc-on.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-112044139325709392</id><published>2005-07-04T09:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T09:56:55.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Big &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;THANK YOU&lt;/span&gt; to all the calls, texts, tags, mails, presents and birthday wishes! (Bestfriend, Ade, Theresa, LST, Jingyi, Jasmine, Nette, LSP, Genius Princess, June extended people, Junz. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I apologize if I missed out anyone, I didn't have anyone's contact&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidetrack, what constitutes cheating? Does it only become cheating when emotions come into play? Sorry for the complete randomness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It HASN'T arrived :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mr adorable needy boy, thank you for the cuddles (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;PS - Filmschool&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-112044139325709392?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/112044139325709392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=112044139325709392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112044139325709392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/112044139325709392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/07/big-thank-you-to-all-calls-texts-tags.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111994063998014113</id><published>2005-06-28T14:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T17:23:33.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 190px; height: 143px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/f6901e17.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; This is for&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;font style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Ching&lt;/font&gt; &lt;/font&gt;(there, your color :P) my dearest! &lt;font style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Bestfriend&lt;/font&gt;! I LOVE YOU so much! Thanks for brightening up my day. And I &lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;absolutely adore&lt;/font&gt; the cd. I rushed home just to listen to it. Haha. Thanks dearie! You've been awesome! Just when I was missing you so much, I received love in the mail :) I'm so glad that&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; our bond transcends time and distance&lt;/font&gt;. I know we haven't been as close as we were in secondary school but I'm so happy to know that&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; NOTHING&lt;/font&gt; can ever break this bond of ours (and I'll make sure of that :P). A big thank you honey!! I love you!! Shit, I can't say how much I love and appreciate you sugar!! You kick butt!! Heh. And you know what sugar, I miss your crapping and I wasn't glaring at all while reading the letter (in fact, I was in tears) Heh, so I'm still as emo as ever! Ahhh I love you!! XOXO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To the rest who promised me presents in the mail, -glares- :P&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going insane&lt;/font&gt;! You! Stop treating me like a girl who can't tell when a guy's thinking with which &lt;font style="font-style: italic;"&gt;head&lt;/font&gt;! I CAN TELL! And I'm NOT the kinda girl you think I am. Don't come treating me like your girl when you've got a girl, and honestly &lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't care for that&lt;/font&gt;. You wanna go on that guilt trip, don't drag me down with you. What I have is open, unlike you, so stop it! I don't need you to take ANY responsibility or take care of me, I'm &lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;perfectly capable&lt;/font&gt; of making my own decisions. I'm THIS close to slapping you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And thank you for being supportive! It isn't easy but we can defy the odds (:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling  my birthday cd from ching ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111994063998014113?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111994063998014113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111994063998014113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111994063998014113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111994063998014113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/this-is-for-ching-there-your-color-p.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111969755920608473</id><published>2005-06-25T18:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T19:05:59.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Reason is one thing, but it pales in comparison to instinct, emotion and heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm missing my lst a whole lot. All your voices, hugs and kisses, my remedy, albeit ephemeral. The talks - flawed logics, help meliorate this addled mind. I need you guys here with me now! Through this tear-shrouded vision, I just wanna say I miss you guys so much, and I love you all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all so capricious I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;to be the one - ryan adams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111969755920608473?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111969755920608473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111969755920608473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111969755920608473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111969755920608473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/reason-is-one-thing-but-it-pales-in.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111936309337134490</id><published>2005-06-21T22:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T22:11:33.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The only drawback to being somewhat "with" someone who's smarter than you's that they just make you feel more stupid and lazy than you already are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I miss MelW a whole load cause she always has a comeback for when I talk like that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;big brother on tv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111936309337134490?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111936309337134490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111936309337134490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111936309337134490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111936309337134490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/only-drawback-to-being-somewhat-with.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111907993268872314</id><published>2005-06-18T15:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-18T15:34:37.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 286px; height: 214px;" src="http://hpg-moonman.de/bilder-gast/river_of_time.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it makes or breaks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;behind these hazel eyes - kelly clarkson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111907993268872314?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111907993268872314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111907993268872314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111907993268872314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111907993268872314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/it-makes-or-breaks-playing-behind.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111891825062653853</id><published>2005-06-16T18:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T18:37:30.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sorry for the outburst. Now what about defying the odds that distance and time do "wonders"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt;  phonecall &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111891825062653853?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111891825062653853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111891825062653853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111891825062653853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111891825062653853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/im-sorry-for-outburst.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111857946747695346</id><published>2005-06-12T20:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T20:31:07.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just when I thought I was strong, detached and different from before, the memories of *you reduced me to a crying heap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;i'm still here - vertical horizon&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111857946747695346?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111857946747695346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111857946747695346' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111857946747695346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111857946747695346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/just-when-i-thought-i-was-strong.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111839098893629117</id><published>2005-06-08T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T16:09:48.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just got off the phone with Yang awhile back. Love and miss you boy!! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Address:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 5704/570 Lygon Street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Carlton VIC 3053 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Australia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Landline: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;613 95086509 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cell: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;614 13550883&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cell's dead so I'll check back on that. And yes, singapore number still works, with roaming and all. But since my cell died (stupid fucking nokia), I won't be able to check any texts much less get calls. More updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In all shamelessness and for the sake of being an attention whore, my birthday's coming up in 24 days (that's July 2 for you)! Cards, gifts (even phonecalls) are very welcome!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -playing&lt;/span&gt; death and destruction - weezer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111839098893629117?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111839098893629117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111839098893629117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111839098893629117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111839098893629117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/just-got-off-phone-with-yang-awhile_08.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111793548620167996</id><published>2005-06-05T09:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-05T10:04:28.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just realized the one thing I miss most being away is the loss of physical contact. The warm tenderness of a hug (everyone who's given me hugs), of light butterfly kisses (that cute boy) and kisses that reach down into the pit of my stomach (thinks wistfully of the emobabybro). I don't crave love the way people do; I'm just too broken. I turn to that physical touch which, at home, helped me cope. Now I'm just lost without those touches!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procrastinating killed the dedications I intended to do online. Maybe I'll come back in a bit to do dedications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For an update on my life, I'm just anticipating the helluva party I'm gonna have come monday (when the folks leave). I know I do sound ungrateful and self-absorbed now but the rationale is that if you're gonna send me here to be independant then what's the point of unpacking for me, cooking for me and whatever else. You're just stifling me and eating into my space! Excuse the desultoriness of this post, it's 1130am and I've gone a week without fresh air! Oh that and the fact that the Sahara has migrated right here on my skin :&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0002ZDW30/qid=1117935436/sr=2-2/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_2/102-8043794-5120948"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 44px; height: 44px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0002ZDW30.01.THUMBZZZ.jpg" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Universal Audio - Delgados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/stores/artist/glance/-/58528/ref=pd_ap_sr/102-8043794-5120948"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111793548620167996?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111793548620167996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111793548620167996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111793548620167996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111793548620167996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-just-realized-one-thing-i-miss-most.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111743164150540855</id><published>2005-05-30T13:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T13:53:38.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/DSC00093.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GARY and YANG, ilu darlings &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the sweetest goodbye - maroon 5&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111743164150540855?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111743164150540855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111743164150540855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111743164150540855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111743164150540855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/gary-and-yang-ilu-darlings-3-playing.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111713373844562114</id><published>2005-05-27T02:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T02:55:38.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sat down at the computer in an attempt to breathe life into this place. Then I realized I haven't regained my ability to gather my thoughts (or maybe I've lost it for good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B00022XDUK/qid=1117133641/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/102-8043794-5120948?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 40px; height: 40px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00022XDUK.01.THUMBZZZ.jpg" border="0" vspace="3" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;In  Between Evolution - The Tragically Hip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/stores/artist/glance/-/73272/ref=pd_ap_sr/102-8043794-5120948"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111713373844562114?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111713373844562114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111713373844562114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111713373844562114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111713373844562114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/sat-down-at-computer-in-attempt-to.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111695685433370412</id><published>2005-05-25T01:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T01:47:34.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>babe. for taking me in at 1.30 in the morning, i love you! i know your on hiatus now but this is cheryl appresh time!&lt;br /&gt;coffee.smokes.hugs.edgarchew&lt;br /&gt;the soul sister, the older one who acts like the baby, i love you lar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muchthanks,&lt;br /&gt;melw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111695685433370412?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111695685433370412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111695685433370412' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111695685433370412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111695685433370412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/babe.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111687690261360731</id><published>2005-05-21T03:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T03:35:02.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ON HIATUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;distopian dream girl - built to spill&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111687690261360731?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111687690261360731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111687690261360731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111687690261360731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111687690261360731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/on-hiatus-playing-distopian-dream-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111642496390528790</id><published>2005-05-18T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T22:02:43.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i just swallowed 6 tylenol ers and 4 advils with beer so edgar if i don't show up later, i'm dead from excessive blood loss and the meds. and if i do, thank you guys who've been great friends and i love you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111642496390528790?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111642496390528790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111642496390528790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111642496390528790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111642496390528790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-just-swallowed-6-tylenol-ers-and-4.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111642182106988045</id><published>2005-05-18T21:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T21:10:21.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ARGHH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111642182106988045?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111642182106988045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111642182106988045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111642182106988045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111642182106988045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/arghh.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111635357487975156</id><published>2005-05-18T02:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T02:12:54.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Stop. Breathe. Wake up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt; chi xin jue dui :\&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111635357487975156?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111635357487975156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111635357487975156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111635357487975156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111635357487975156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/stop.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111617123538801391</id><published>2005-05-15T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T01:44:28.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm hating the flu bug alot. I'm surprised at my enslavement to making myself miserable. An aching body and a head that feels like fifty million orcs are running through it, aren't enough to stop me from falling into emo. MelW said once that I'm as emo as they come, took me quite awhile, but I'm finally seeing the light. Pardon this incoherent post, I'm having trouble sitting up as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole day camped in my room, with only the most emo of songs playing, cogitating the vicissitudes of life and relationships in general. Then I realized I've been wanting too much, been too ambitious, I thought the world, or rather, god might one day allow me not only to have *you as a friend, but *your love. But I should've known better, should've learnt from the many times I should have - in this world, when it comes to human interaction, to take what's offered, when it is offered and not ask for anything more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B0002VYQCU/qid=1116171172/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/103-6578351-9247056?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 48px; height: 48px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0002VYQCU.01.THUMBZZZ.jpg" border="0" vspace="3" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B0002VYQCU/qid=1116171172/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/103-6578351-9247056?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;span class="small"&gt;Straylight Run [ENHANCED]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111617123538801391?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111617123538801391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111617123538801391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111617123538801391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111617123538801391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-hating-flu-bug-alot.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111599469166664382</id><published>2005-05-13T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T22:31:31.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've nothing much to post but I wanted to cause it's friday the thirteenth! Oh btw Freddy dropped by for a visit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::lameness::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;survivor on tv&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111599469166664382?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111599469166664382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111599469166664382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111599469166664382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111599469166664382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/ive-nothing-much-to-post-but-i-wanted.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111591286186765820</id><published>2005-05-12T23:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T23:49:26.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's not enough. it's not enough. the one thing i count on to help me forget my life is in shambles just has to fail me. why am i not surprised? it simply refuses to help me purge the pain, and ignore the acute loneliness! it just refuses to split open this canvass, refuses to let the vile fluid out of the dam. DAMMIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B000075A7T/qid=1115912543/sr=8-2/ref=pd_csp_2/103-8029989-8490236?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 48px; height: 48px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B000075A7T.01.THUMBZZZ.jpg" border="0" vspace="3" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B000075A7T/qid=1115912543/sr=8-2/ref=pd_csp_2/103-8029989-8490236?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;span class="small"&gt;Home Is Where You Hang Yourself 2.0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/stores/artist/glance/-/207365/ref=pd_ap_sr/103-8029989-8490236"&gt;Her Space Holiday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111591286186765820?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111591286186765820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111591286186765820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111591286186765820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111591286186765820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/its-not-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111590648570350520</id><published>2005-05-12T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T22:01:25.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's ironic how just a couple of days back, I was assuring Rik that he wasn't as lonely as he thought he was. Yet at this very moment in time, with a number of people on my contact list online and a cell phone with numbers of people, I feel alone. I can't seem to see anyone who'd care enough and understand. I feel stuck in this paradox of solitude; craving it yet needing someone to pour my heart out to. I'm starting to feel what Teri feels like; a sailor left to fight the rocky seas alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days have been passing in a complete blur. It was over 70 days when I started counting down, and now it's just under 20 days. What seemed so surreal has just become real in what seems like a week. I don't know how to react to that. General expectation is for me to either be wistful or enthusiastic, but I feel nothing. I try to dig deep for some kind of emotion but I come up with nothing. I suppose months of repressing any sign of weakness in the form of emotion has rendered me more or less stolid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mused that maybe I never really loved *you after all. After all, I didn't go to the ends of the world for *you, didn't pull the stars down for *you, didn't take any punches or break any bones for *you. Wasn't self-sacrificing enough for *you. Probably a good thing *you left. I couldn't have done anything else for *you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;suicide is painless - manic street preachers&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111590648570350520?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111590648570350520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111590648570350520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111590648570350520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111590648570350520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/its-ironic-how-just-couple-of-days.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111582504773412446</id><published>2005-05-11T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T23:24:08.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm seriously addicted to '&lt;a href="http://ch5.mediacorptv.com/eyeforaguy2/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Eye for A Guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'! Denise Keller is hot! Shan is hot! That Wolfgang guy is hot too! And Christian is pretty cute. I know I'm probably the only one, but I cannot believe &lt;a href="http://www.realityblurred.com/realitytv/archives/the_amazing_race_7/2005_May_11_joyce_uchenna_win"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Romber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=747012"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;didn't win&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the Amazing Race. I cannot believe it. I'm so disappointed in them! I think Rob's the hottest survivor. Grins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://starwars.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;8 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;! Oh and George Lucas, I hate you so much! You screwed up episode 1 and 2. I hope you redeem yourself in episode 3! Urgh George Lucas, I hate you! And Hayden, I'm sorry, as much as I think you're cute, you sucked in episode 2! I still can't believe I sat through almost 3 hours of a love story (THREE times; I'm that much of a nerd). And that adorable little kid made episode 1 feel like the Home Alone series (too cute)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the amazing race on tv&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111582504773412446?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111582504773412446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111582504773412446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111582504773412446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111582504773412446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-seriously-addicted-to-eye-for-guy.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111573944933197463</id><published>2005-05-10T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T23:37:29.606+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just want to say a big THANK YOU to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T, Junz, Huimin, LPY, Yingliang, Mikael, Sam, Mich, Jerry, Eddie, Ah Lim, Kaiwei and Ren &lt;/span&gt;for the wonderful time today!! Thank you guys! &lt;33!! I promise to come back to school when it reopens to visit you guys ok?? ((: THANK YOU ALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I was reading an article in today's 'Lifestyle' about Jack Black being a musical nazi in the show 'High Fidelity', and I realized I'm more of a music nazi than he is. So here, I proudly proclaim that my musical taste is too cool for you people out there (: How I love myself for being so cool sometimes. And don't bother asking me what I listen to, cause it's wayy too cool for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I had my moment. Now back to the real world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;something so cool you never knew it existed&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111573944933197463?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111573944933197463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111573944933197463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111573944933197463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111573944933197463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-just-want-to-say-big-thank-you-to-t.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111566216305664590</id><published>2005-05-10T02:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T02:09:23.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in love. They are simply gorgeous, coupled with the quaint story Zannie spun, I'm in love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 175px; height: 131px;" src="http://www.bmga.com/photo/Queen%20anne%27s%20lace.jpg" /&gt;   &lt;img style="width: 135px; height: 135px;" src="http://nomm.com/Nature/images/Queen%20Anne%27s%20Lace.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.killerplants.com/whats-in-a-name/20020726.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Queen Anne's Lace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;all that i've got - the used&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111566216305664590?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111566216305664590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111566216305664590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111566216305664590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111566216305664590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-in-love.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111537746403374084</id><published>2005-05-06T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T19:04:24.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was packing my stuff and I started reading through the cards, encouragement notes, letters and tiny slips of papers (notes, passed around during lessons) that I've accumulated over the years. Thank you guys (everyone who's slipped me a note, a card, a letter, postcard or whatever) for your encouragement, care, concern and love. I've actually alot more to say but somehow I can't articulate my feelings right now. Even if I were blind to all that God has given and done for me, I could never be ignorant to the fact that He has graced me with you guys. Yes, I know we've had our fairshare of petty arguments, fights, misunderstandings and on my part, a whole load of tears, but I still love you guys for who you are. The different character traits that each one of you have just makes my life a whole lot more interesting (: I love you all for who you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truly &lt;/span&gt;are, and your hearts. So don't you guys dare give up on yourselves and always &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;be true to yourselves&lt;/span&gt; because there's always someone here who loves and treasures your exactly the way you are (: Thank you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A friend is, as it were, a second self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;  (-Cicero) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;house of jealous lovers - the rapture house&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111537746403374084?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111537746403374084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111537746403374084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111537746403374084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111537746403374084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-was-packing-my-stuff-and-i-started.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111515096526597549</id><published>2005-05-04T03:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T04:13:09.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life isn't supposed to be too complicated isn't it? But unfelitiously, everyone has to make choices, and I made that trenchant decision. I'm not regretting it. But sitting alone at home, with Def Leppard playing really set the scene for a time of cogitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might think about the life I might have had, the life *you might have had, if *we'd never met. But *our choices lead *us to *our future, and I made a choice a long time ago, without even realizing it. I don't know if my choice will leave me to die a decrepit troglodyte, but what I do know is that my decision came from my heart and I'm not regretting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as much as I try to deny anything every happened between *us (in hopes that denial would one day erase any trace of feelings I have), I could never pretend that *we didn't happen, that I didn't fall in love with the (to me) perfect guy who I'd gladly give up everything for. I couldn't act like I don't lie awake at night wondering what *you've done that day, like I don't ache for *you every moment *you're not with me. I could never convince myself that I don't love *you. I don't even remember when it happened, when I realized that I'll never be able to stop loving *you. But I do know that loving *you has become normal for me. I have no other normal to go back to. This is it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*you held my hand and then &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*you slipped away&lt;/span&gt;. and i may never see *your face again, so tell me how to fill the emptiness inside. without love, what is life? and anyone who knew *us both could see &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*you were always the better part of me. i never wanted to be this free&lt;/span&gt;. all this pain does it go away?&lt;br /&gt;; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;then everytime i turn around, and *you're nowhere to be found. i know i got a long, long way to go, before i can say goodbye to *you. oh, i got a long, long way i know, before i can say goodbye to all i ever knew. to *you, to *you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;from memory, there is no hiding place&lt;/span&gt;. turn on the tv and i see *you there. in every crowd, there's always someone with *your face. everywhere, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;trying&lt;/span&gt; not to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;long, long way to go - def leppard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111515096526597549?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111515096526597549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111515096526597549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111515096526597549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111515096526597549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/life-isnt-supposed-to-be-too.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111505461173036145</id><published>2005-05-03T00:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T22:55:43.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm feeling incredibly inept right now. I can't seem to put my thoughts into words, yet there's this need to get everything out before my insides explode. I tried talking about it, but I realized that I should write and not talk; everytime I talk, I annoy myself more. I sound alot like an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ahlian&lt;/span&gt; when I talk. Maybe because I don't pay attention to my grammer, vocab and sentence structure. The noisome tone of my voice probably contributes to it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, friends have been coming up to me, asking why I'm pushing myself so hard even before I leave. They've expressed concern that I might burn out when I get there. It was then that I realized that I was pushing myself for no reason. But I can't stop! I've this pernicious need to prove myself, to prove that I'm not too stupid for *you, that I'm not as stupid as everyone presumes, that I'm my father's daughter (funny how this came up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one understands this. Try as anyone may, no one can understand this. Of growing up having the world around you disappointed in you; a world where all you hear are the daily deprecations of your parents and everyone else around you. Then there's the visceral self-reproach that comes along with it. Imagine eighteen years of your life with your parents disappointed in you, yet pretending like they've accepted the sad fact of life that their daughter (supposedly the brains in the family, the extent of stupidity in my family doesn't surprise me) will never make it big. Imagine living with that your whole life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it deranges me, I will do everything I can to prove myself. If not to humor the world around me, then to palliate my need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;;i'mstillwaiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the sound - further seems forever&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111505461173036145?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111505461173036145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111505461173036145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111505461173036145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111505461173036145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-feeling-incredibly-inept-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111488023464828254</id><published>2005-05-01T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T14:38:32.626+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My epiphany is killing me. I'm not liking it one bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;song for a blue guitar - red house painters&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111488023464828254?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111488023464828254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111488023464828254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111488023464828254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111488023464828254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/05/my-epiphany-is-killing-me.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111467499295926166</id><published>2005-04-29T00:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T20:44:02.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>To whom it may concern, Thank you (: &lt;img style="width: 20px; height: 20px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/Untitled-1.jpg" /&gt; by Awfully Chocolate never tasted any sweeter (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;;the lover i don't have to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only wish that *you were here to see me finally smile. And that it were *you I was walking out with,  sharing that pint of &lt;img style="width: 20px; height: 20px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v239/cher-/Untitled-1.jpg" /&gt; in the scorching heat. I miss *you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;waiting for you - straylight run&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111467499295926166?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111467499295926166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111467499295926166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111467499295926166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111467499295926166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/to-whom-it-may-concern-thank-you-by.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111462326807953155</id><published>2005-04-28T00:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T01:34:28.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It kills me that a freaking retarded imbecile (ie, me) has the audacity to attempt to finish a two year syllabus in two months. Granted I've skimmed through a substantial amount of stuff. Infelicitously, skimming through isn't enough, as I realized when I tried reviewing my work. That, coupled with distraction in the form of Nersesian's stuff that arrived at my doorstep this afternoon (which I got ordered off Amazon) doesn't help a single bit. Dear Lord, please give me more brain cells to absorb information, and the strength to put down those stunning works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a talk with MelW about university while trying to re-cram my head with information. Again it kills that she has pretty much decided what she wants to major in. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Make that her and everybody else who is planning on entering a university within the next 3-5 years or so&lt;/span&gt;.) Doesn't help that the subject combination that I'm about to take opens me up to essentially every major/degree available, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;provided&lt;/span&gt; I meet the prerequisites. Stuck in between the arts and sciences is virtually like getting caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. And I know I'll never ever go into commerce. So where on earth does that leave me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I don't know why I'm pushing myself so hard. Dear God, please grant me the grace to stop aiming for the sky. I've disappointed my dad and I honestly don't think the folks are placing much hopes on me (besides the fact that they want me to graduate with a degree in&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; any&lt;/span&gt; damn course), I feel I owe to someone (I don't know who though) to excel this time round. Dear God, please stop me from having these paranoidal hallucinations - no one is expecting anything from me. Why on earth do I then push myself. I suspect a certain reason which I don't care to mention here, at the risk of sounding more and more like a complete fcukwit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't help that I just found something I wrote to *you wedged between *your textbook, which is still at my place (if *you've been wondering and actually read this, now *you know). And remember, if *you ever feel loved or needed (like right now), *you're one of the lucky ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the perfect ending - straylight run&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111462326807953155?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111462326807953155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111462326807953155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111462326807953155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111462326807953155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/it-kills-me-that-freaking-retarded.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111454481138784035</id><published>2005-04-27T03:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T03:46:51.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be asleep right now. But I can't help but think of *you. It just hit me that I can continue living in denial, and it still wouldn't change a thing. It's ephemeral relief I know but I don't know what else to do. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt; to admit this, but since I've been asked. As much as I'm a bottomless pit of needs, that's how much &lt;s&gt;I love *you&lt;/s&gt;. And the day *you find an end to my needs is the end of that love. God, this sounds nauseatingly schmaltzy and I know *you won't give a fly, so I'm just going to stop rambling and attempt to sleep since I've apparently released my bottled up feelings into cyberspace -cringes-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I don't know whether to hope what I'm feeling is just limerence. I want it to be, so it makes things easier for myself, yet I want what I'm feeling to be real. Then again, I can't say it's completely limerence cause I'm hardly excited about it now, am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B0002M5T7A/qid=1114544658/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/103-5955528-7213439?v=glance&amp;s=music&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 44px; height: 44px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0002M5T7A.01.THUMBZZZ.jpg" border="0" vspace="3" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; More Adventurous - Rilo Kiley &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111454481138784035?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111454481138784035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111454481138784035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111454481138784035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111454481138784035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-supposed-to-be-asleep-right-now_27.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111452962575455889</id><published>2005-04-26T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T23:42:10.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Depressed? Disconsolate? Melancholic? Lugubrious? If the environment has an effect on your moods and feelings then move to Texas! If &lt;a href="http://articles.health.msn.com/id/100103843"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;this article&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  is anything to go by, depressives should move to Texas! Okay, so I'm bored and I'm bored and I'm bored!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To further prove that, I've updated my &lt;a href="http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/2005-dead-list-i-realized-that-years.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;2005 dead list&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;sometimes love just ain't enough - patty smith&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111452962575455889?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111452962575455889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111452962575455889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111452962575455889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111452962575455889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/depressed-disconsolate-melancholic.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111432897110147747</id><published>2005-04-24T03:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T23:28:20.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Val hon, it was a blast today (or rather yesterday)! Hugs. And I'm looking forward to Kingdom of Heaven, Happy and maybe more Why Not when you get back (: Love you sweets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Not was nice (: I'm not used to the music but I'd definitely be going more often. I'm loving the crowd there. Hott eye candy. Yang and Benji, I'm so sorry for having to leave early. Have to wake up. Oh and Benji, that Justin guy's mine. Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's absurd how the things you shouldn't be doing helps puts things into perspective. I've said it so many times before, as much as *you matter to me, I should go on living my life. And after Why Not and the movie with Val (Guess Who), I realized the kind of life that I will be living (and with time, will want to) is the kind of life that *you would &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; be living. It's virtually impossible to juxtapose the two different worlds *we're going to be living in. Am I looking forward to the shambles that lay ahead of me? I don't know. What I do know is that heartaches will be a thing of the past as I turn to face the world head on with a heart completely encased. I'm certain that nothing (not even cupid's supposedly great arrow) can pierce through that shield. I'll personally see to the protection of that whatever's left of the precious organ. I will not let myself down this time around. A promise to myself that I will hold so dear to my dying day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;sitting, waiting, wishing - jack johnson&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111432897110147747?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111432897110147747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111432897110147747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111432897110147747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111432897110147747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/val-hon-it-was-blast-today-or-rather.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111433045082640405</id><published>2005-04-23T16:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T16:41:27.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's true you never realize what you have until it's gone. Though I was cracking up at your hair (or lack thereoff) and that green thing they call a uniform, I must say I miss you. Things haven't been the same boy. I miss the fact that you're no longer a phonecall away. It was especially felt last sunday night/monday morning. The 'hello' on the other end of the line &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;used&lt;/span&gt; to be so assuaging, but all it did was make it seem like you were all the way in Cali with Ker. I would never tell you this to your face boy, I'm not accustomed to telling you that I miss you and that I love you like the older brother I never had. I'll always act like the brat, the high maintainence, spoiled hoe, simply because you're the only one who would give in to me. Bryan Koh, you'll probably never read this but I miss and love you dude (: And I hate the singapore government for taking you away from me (and for making you suffer of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ker hon, you have got to be the luckiest little sis (though by a mere 2 minutes which I know you're very thankful for) on earth. And thanks for sharing your brother with me, my soul sista. I'm missing you a whole load too. And yes, I almost cried when I heard your voice. sbhf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;if only - hanson&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111433045082640405?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111433045082640405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111433045082640405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111433045082640405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111433045082640405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/its-true-you-never-realize-what-you.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111397654739875626</id><published>2005-04-20T13:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T13:55:47.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Anyone has the book 'Friends for Idiots' or 'Friends 101'? I'm desperately in need of that, unless *you'd care to enlighten me on how many other ways there are to be friends? I'm so exhausted that the thought of being complete strangers in the crowd seems very appealing. Yes, that is how upset I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For goodness sakes, you guys are adults! Can't you guys settle things between yourselves without getting me involved? In the first place mom, I told you not to bother with them. If they wanna set up a business, let them go ahead. Why get your esurient ass involved? You know full well how your sisters are. I refuse to let you guys drag me right into the midst of your altercation. So stop trying to get the lowdown from me. My lips are sealed, and I will not stay at home (when you are home) or go to the damn shop until you guys leave me out of this. And I'm dead serious about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my dearest MelW, the decision is yours to make. No one is gonna bear the consequences of telling you what to do. This is the time to be completely and hopelessly analytical. Nothing anyone can say will sway you if the decision comes from your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;mitch hedberg live on comedy central&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111397654739875626?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111397654739875626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111397654739875626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111397654739875626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111397654739875626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/anyone-has-book-friends-for-idiots-or.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111385451348795055</id><published>2005-04-19T03:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T04:03:32.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm supposed to be asleep right now. What with the splitting headache and bad sunburn. Infelicitously, I'm being haunted by thoughts of *you. Talked to Rik, MelW and Bry (for like 10 mins), and I've basically come to a conclusion. The general talk I had with two brothers kind of helped put things into perspective. But that doesn't mean I'm not distressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;pre style="font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;i don't mean to drag it on, but i can't seem to let *you go &lt;/pre&gt; &lt;/div&gt; I've always stressed that denial is a very powerful coping mechanism, and it's worked extremely well for me. Granted Rik says it's only ephemeral, it beats no relief I say. Feigning emotional and mental stability takes its toll. I'm afraid I don't have enough pith to go on fighting this battle. I really hate how my mind and heart simply cannot operate in tandem. They feel like separate entities that cannot coexist. It's like when the mind works, the heart just refuses to do anything and vice versa. Which brings this down to the crunch. When the once dormant entity decides it's had enough rest, it takes over and endeavors to undo what the other has pretty much contrived. I'm just maundering along. My brain has completely lost it's ability to function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;pre style="font-family: arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;i've tried to go on like i never knew *you&lt;br /&gt;I'm awake but my world is half asleep&lt;br /&gt;i pray for this heart to be unbroken&lt;br /&gt;but without *you all i'm going to be is incomplete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;incomplete - backstreet boys&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&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/6908786-111385451348795055?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111385451348795055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111385451348795055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111385451348795055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111385451348795055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-supposed-to-be-asleep-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111379976447728857</id><published>2005-04-18T12:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T12:49:24.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Btw, did I mention that it has been a year! And *you had to make *your presence known. Thanks alot. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;*You've succeeded&lt;/span&gt;. I thought after yesterday (which marked one year), I'd be completely in denial and not care. I guess *you've succeeded. Boosts the ego doesn't it? To have someone always stuck there for *YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;always - bon jovi (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not that it means anything to *you anyways&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111379976447728857?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111379976447728857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111379976447728857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111379976447728857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111379976447728857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/btw-did-i-mention-that-it-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111379778733260643</id><published>2005-04-18T11:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T12:16:27.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just got home. Head's spinning. MelW, you saved my butt. Thanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say about the sevens  is that I should stop going. I still don't understand why Jamie did that. And I don't know what *you told her but seriously, *you expect me to be completely over *you? And Ja, don't tell me I didn't do anything about it. Cause when I did I got told to face reality. I can't handle this anymore. I got through one night without crying about it all but I can't pretend I don't care. I can't look at *you, and just be friends (friends isn't enough for me). Ironically, I want *you in my life so bad, I put on this air of indifference just so to talk to *you. It's an uphill battle ok! So what else do *you want from me? My cousin and me and two different people and if *you could only see what *your words meant to her (and what she said to me after talking to *you). *You wanna talk, tell it to my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just starting to act like I didn't give a damn (just like *you don't) but *you had to come around a ruin it all. ARGH! I can't deal with this anymore. Dadddddyyyy! Can I just leave for melbourne tonight? I want to get away from everything and everyone. Ah fcuk this. Ja, I thought I could count on you, I thought you were MY cousin. Thanks a million. But its ok, at least I know now who cares, who're the real friends I have. Thanks MelW, Rik and Bry (for replying a late night sms even though you had to be up early this morning).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;incomplete - backstreet boys&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111379778733260643?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111379778733260643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111379778733260643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111379778733260643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111379778733260643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-just-got-home.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111375214499411036</id><published>2005-04-17T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T23:35:44.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and i thought this year's sevens are gonna turn things around. i apologize for the incoherent post. i'm very high (maybe drunk) and upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cannot believe jamie did that. and i cannot believe *you want closure. fcuk off! what closure? *we're over aren't we? i know that very clearly. and i'm not even saying anything to *you anymore. yes, have fun and happily ever after with *your girl. and don't give me crap about friends. i tried being friends and *you were all attitude and now *you're telling my cousin *you wanna be friends? i wouldn't be talking to *you like i did if we weren't friends. i would be finding ways to get close to you for goodness sakes. i can't believe this. i know *we're over. i'm just not over *you. there is a difference. and i'm sorry if i'm not smart enough to make it to acjc. it's my fault *we fell apart. no one's hating *you. so stop trying to be nice to "make up" for anything. be nice because *you want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my mom is a complete pain. woman, if you've got problems with your sister, don't get me involved. don't make me skip a party cause you're upset. wtf! i don't give. i'm sneaking out after my shower. even if it's for an hour. i'm not missing that english bloke who took my blue band, making me promise to go to indochine. so yes, i'm off now. and don't *you wonder why i've changed. i'm no longer the naive girl who believes that love lasts forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;class 95&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111375214499411036?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111375214499411036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111375214499411036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111375214499411036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111375214499411036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/and-i-thought-this-years-sevens-are.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111357252728841614</id><published>2005-04-15T21:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T23:37:51.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wanna blog but I have no idea where to begin so I ripped this off friendster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;are you serious when it comes to relationships&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i used to be until i realized relationships are just a game and since i play to win, i guess you could say i'm serious about winning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;are you afraid of commitments&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` no. and i absolutely abhor commitment phobes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;are you a risk taker&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i used to be irrational and thought with my heart. but experiences have taught me to be practical so i suppose i take &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;calculated&lt;/span&gt; risks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;what can you say about long distance relationships&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` pointless. enough said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can you love a person who doesn't love you&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i can but i don't want to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do actions speak louder than words&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` duh! words are meaningless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;have you felt/found true love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` earth calling!! it doesn't exist (in the human form at least)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;how can you feel that a person loves you&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i'm numb. anyways, i don't think love exists. people get together to gain from each other. the way i see it, it's a business transaction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;are you good in handling relationships&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i suck at playing games yet i try so hard to win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;willing to give everything&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i would have. but i realized you can give everything and have the person push it all away. so what on earth is the point&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;best thing you've learned from loving&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` that all you can ever get from love is a love song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do you demand your loved one to change into someone else&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i have lost the ability to love an imperfect person perfectly. besides, choose your opponent before you get into the game. choose the person you're gonna have the business transaction with and make sure he/she can give all that you need and desire. open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;would you let go of someone you love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i don't and i won't. people throw me aside. nothing i can do about that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;are you a one-woman man &amp; vice versa type of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;person&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` what's the point of monogamy? the playing field is large. strive to win and annihilate everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is getting physical important in a relationship&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` that depends on the kinda  deal that was cut doesn't it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;how do you express your love to someone&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` i don't. i can't love anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;what is the major reason of a break up&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` when the other person no longer feels the same yet comes up with a myriad of excuses in a sad attempt to not "hurt" you or to be the nice guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;most important ingredient/s in a relationship&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` the contractual agreement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ever regret loving someone&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` yes *you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one thing you hate about love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` it's a game where losing isn't an option&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one thing you like about love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` it's a game that makes life... well life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; are you in love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` yes, regretting it and ironically denying the existence of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can you learn to love someone whom you don't love&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` why bother when you can draw everything from him/her then split?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;worst thing in a relationship&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` it's a transaction where it isn't an option to be at the losing end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;will you accept someone who broke your heart&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;` foolishly yes. i don't hate *you. and it really doesn't matter what went wrong, i don't care. all i care about is the distance between *us. and yes i hate myself for this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-playing&lt;/span&gt; existentialism on prom night - straylight run&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111357252728841614?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111357252728841614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111357252728841614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111357252728841614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111357252728841614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-wanna-blog-but-i-have-no-idea-where.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111349266772394408</id><published>2005-04-14T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T23:31:07.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yes I'm back. Thanks Rach, Des, Jing, Benji for tagging (: I just got in a couple of hours ago. That was a pathetically short trip, which is apparently 4 days too long for my system. My whole system feels like it should be on life support right now. Fake ids are the greatest invention ever -grins- The clubs in Orlando are surprisingly hopping :\ Anyways, Beth, I owe you one! This summer, come down to Melbourne, rent a car and you can try sitting in a car that I drive again (yes, I did drive over there, in a jeep no less). Uh huh, illegal yes but I didn't kill anyone ((: I'm incredibly jet-lagged right now seeing I never really had time to acclimatize to the time (dammit, it was 4 days), so I'll blog later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance is bliss! Ignorance is bliss! I seriously need to believe that. Why on earth do I go find things out only to regret and start crying all over again. Fcuk *you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the saddest part of a broken heart, isn't the ending so much the start. the tragedy starts from the very first spark. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;losing your mind, for the sake of your heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;let it die - feist&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111349266772394408?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111349266772394408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111349266772394408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111349266772394408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111349266772394408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/yes-im-back.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111298255416549222</id><published>2005-04-09T01:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T01:49:14.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm completely mortified right now. My mom is driving me up the wall (to think it's usually the antithesis that happens). She's seriously acting as if I'm leaving for good. For goodness gracious sakes, I'll be back this december, since she ordered me back.  I don't see what's with the whole fuss about a farewell party. And it isn't like she doesn't know I totally detest those family gatherings (like weddings, funerals, major birthdays) where you meet your relatives for the first time in a whole year and everyone sits around self-aggrandizing. So maybe I'm trying to eschew the interrogation process which will definitely ensue in the event the party materializes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I should stop blogging now or I won't ever stop ranting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;listening to &lt;/b&gt;noven on the phone with her music in the background&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111298255416549222?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111298255416549222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111298255416549222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111298255416549222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111298255416549222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-completely-mortified-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111280686606899165</id><published>2005-04-07T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T01:15:20.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 212px; height: 212px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B000296EB8.16._AA384_SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Strut your stuff without bunching up. When even a thong won't do the trick, the disposable Anti-Panti saves a woman's day. Made of soft 100% cotton flannel, this slender circle of fabric has an adhesive back that attaches to the inside of jeans or pants and doesn't budge. Trousers with tricky, low-slung waistlines and form-fitting backsides are banished to the back of the closet no more. With the Anti-Panti, you're looking smooth and on your way. Box of 5 includes a range of fun colors and . . .&lt;/span&gt;"               [&lt;a href="http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/ref=cm_wl_hu_mrai-recs/601-6574214-3271311?%5Fencoding=UTF%3Cbr%20/%3E8&amp;asin=B000296EB8"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Click&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This has got to be the most hilarious "invention" ever! I'm laughing so darn hard right now I'm hyperventilating. Where on earth do they go? I don't get this. Do they help avoid zipper-scrapage on days you go commando? I'd sure like to know who the heck came up with this, I'd like to kick him/her right in the ass! My take on this: go commando!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;the mr brown show (with mr miyagi) part 1 &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111280686606899165?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111280686606899165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111280686606899165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111280686606899165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111280686606899165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/strut-your-stuff-without-bunching-up.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111275855129773049</id><published>2005-04-06T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T15:10:34.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not upset anymore that *we fell apart. I'm upset now because I realize *we didn't have love at all. It's making me wonder if I really do love *you. They say that in a relationship, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love lasts only for the first 3 months. After that, it's just feelings and those feelings go on fading till it becomes a habit&lt;/span&gt;. I think *we started out with feelings and never really fell into a habit. And once the limerence died off, *we were left with nothing. And now I'm upset because I realize that all the 'iloveyous' coming from *you never meant a thing, yet I lapped them all up. What a fool! *We just couldn't last past the vicissitude of getting to know each other could *we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Completely random post. I need to get a life and stop cogitating relationships and life in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt; class 95&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111275855129773049?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111275855129773049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111275855129773049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111275855129773049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111275855129773049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-not-upset-anymore-that-we-fell.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111271181734742499</id><published>2005-04-05T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T00:18:31.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;The 2005 Dead List:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I realized that the year's fairly new yet there are so many dead people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://story.news.yahoo.com/fc?cid=34&amp;tmpl=fc&amp;amp;in=World&amp;cat=Pope_John_Paul_II"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://story.news.yahoo.com/fc?cid=34&amp;tmpl=fc&amp;amp;in=World&amp;cat=Pope_John_Paul_II"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;The Pope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Please don't tell me you don't know who he is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/magazines/TeenAge/html/20050404T220000-0500_78120_OBS_JOHNNIE_COCHRAN_DIES.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt; Johnnie Cochran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mitchellhedberg.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt; Mitch Hedberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm still &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; over his death&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6504289/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Johnny Carson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kennedy-center.org/calendar/index.cfm?fuseaction=showIndividual&amp;entitY_id=3762&amp;amp;source_type=A"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Arthur Miller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Great playwright. 'The Crucible' ring anyone?)&lt;a href="http://www.biography.com/cgi-bin/biomain.cgi"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/money/2005-04-01-perdue-obit_x.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Frank Perdue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (The turkey guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&amp;u=/nm/20050401/us_nm/rights_schiavo_dc_186"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Terry Schiavo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/TV/03/24/obit.martin.ap/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt; Barney Martin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Jerry's dad on seinfeld)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sandradeefans.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Sandra Dee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (I really liked her)&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.contactmusic.com/new/xmlfeed.nsf/mndwebpages/ataris%20drummer%20commits%20suicide"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Derrick Plourde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Original Ataris &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drummer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1339075/posts"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Keith Knudsen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (The Doobie Bros &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drummer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=409710"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Spencer Dryden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (The Jefferson Airplane &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drummer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/4387017.stm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Paul Hester&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Crowded House &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drummer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.billboard.com/bb/daily/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1000864430"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Hideaki Sekiguchi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Guitar Wolf  bassist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/4283349.stm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Hunter Thompson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (I liked his stuff)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/03/21/delorean.obit.ap/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;John Dolorean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (The 'Back to the Future' car dude)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dimebagdarrelltribute.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Dimebag Darrell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Pantera guitarist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1500451/20050420/american_head_charge.jhtml?headlines=true"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Bryan Ottoson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (American Head Charge's guitarist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thecelebritycafe.com/features/3123.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Sir John Mills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (One of Britain's oldest actors)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/05/books/0406wire-bellow.html?ex=1114660800&amp;en=18fd325326f3a567&amp;amp;ei=5070&amp;hp"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Saul Bellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Nobel Prize-winning author)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A35837-2005Apr7.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Dale Messick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Cartoonist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailysouthtown.com/southtown/dsnews/1018nd9.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Debralee Scott&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Actress in some of the "Police Academy" movies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twincities.com/mld/twincities/11322183.htm?template=contentModules/printstory.jsp"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Prince Rainier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Prince of Monaco, husband of &lt;a href="http://www.hellomagazine.com/film/specials/gracekelly/pagina_1_1.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Grace Kelly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/international/story/0%2C3604%2C1457220%2C00.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Andrea Dworkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Anti-porn feminist activist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1382502/posts"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Maurice Hillman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Master in creating vaccines)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nyc.indymedia.org/feature/display/148322/index.php"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Marla Ruzicka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Anti-war activist)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2005-04-21-ruth-hussey-obit_x.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Ruth Hussey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Actress in "Philadelphia Story")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://the.honoluluadvertiser.com/article/2005/Mar/03/br/br03p.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;Martin Denny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Father of music genre "Exotica")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seems like a bad year for dummers. There's actually a whole truckload more to update but it seems kinda morbid to read up on dead people and start linking articles. I'm not that bored now so I'll update when I'm once again bored&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;a box full of sharp objects - the used&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;UPDATED: April 27, 2005 @ 12.08am&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111271181734742499?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111271181734742499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111271181734742499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111271181734742499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111271181734742499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/2005-dead-list-i-realized-that-years.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111262679720929350</id><published>2005-04-04T22:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T00:19:47.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just read &lt;a href="http://www.dsng.net/2005/04/dining-alone.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I know I'm pretty independant, as compared to some people I know. I love shopping alone. I would watch a movie alone (yes I would and I have done so without any sense of awkardness), I'd chill out at cafes with a book and my fix alone. Heck, I've even gone for church service alone. BUT one thing I've never been able to do is to eat out alone. Even when I was in Canada shopping and walking around alone while my cousins, aunt and uncle were working or schooling, I'd put off eating (till I got back) so I wouldn't have to eat alone. I'm such a wuss. Tomorrow! I'm gonna have lunch alone, in a public place.&lt;br /&gt;[edit] I've more I'd like to say, but I can't seem to put my thoughts into words right now. Back to chem and the wonderful world of equations. And yes, I'm still eating alone tomorrow! [/edit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing  &lt;/b&gt;russell peters and pablo francisco at their standup routine (dvd)&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111262679720929350?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111262679720929350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111262679720929350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111262679720929350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111262679720929350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/just-read-this.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111254361942312008</id><published>2005-04-03T22:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T23:53:39.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I realized yesterday that it's been too long since I last conversed with God. I was watching the OC (so what's new) and I just started bawling when I saw Summer and Seth work out their differences. I just wanted to cry out to anyone and anything, I was repressing all my emotions, in a futile attempt at disengaging them from myself. Out of despair, I just cried to God. Somewhere during that time, He reminded me again that I'm His, His precious daughter. It's somewhat assuaging. I'm not gonna prevaricate in an attempt to appear all spiritual. I shall admit that after that intimacy with Him, I still feel decrepit and completely worthless. It's times like these that I wonder what it would take for me to snap out of this state of whatever this is (yes, I can't even begin to explain this). But whatever this is, I'm not gonna let it (once again) estrange me from my Father and BestFriend! Like what Pastor said, "Rest and if God doesn't come through, FINE." Yes, I'm just gonna spend time imbibing His love, and if that doesn't help, FINE. It just means that I'm programmed like that, doesn't it? I'm too spent to try extirpating whatever's consuming me from the inside. If God doesn't do it, then no one can. Why should I even bother then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough, I'm not lugubrious at all about leaving. I despise myself so much sometimes. I know I can't handle certain truths yet I persist until I find out the truth. And now, the truth comes around and slaps me right in the face. Yes, I can't deal with it. Ignorance is bliss. I know and understand that totally. But I foolishly probe around till I unearth the painful truth. And because I propel myself completely (mentally, emotionally and physically) into finding out the the truth that's been hidden from me, I find it so raw that it hurts so much! This time, I'm walking away. And I pray that by walking away, something good will come out of it. Whatever happens, I believe that God is for me. As I've said before, it doesn't matter how much I care and love *you, *you have her and that's all that matters to *you. I'm just but something inconsequential in *your life! Hurts to know, but the pain's sort of obtunded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;how many times have *you told me, *you love her? as many times as i wanted to tell *you the truth. how long have i stood here beside *you? i lived through *you and *you looked through me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;solitude - evanescence&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111254361942312008?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111254361942312008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111254361942312008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111254361942312008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111254361942312008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-realized-yesterday-that-its-been-too.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111236610747430688</id><published>2005-04-01T22:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T22:35:07.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I cannot believe this. Sure, people do die but Mitch Hedberg!!! This might be hard to believe, but he's actually helped me get through some shit the past year or two. It's sad. I feel weird quoting him now! I'm not over it yet. Completely unsettling [&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" href="http://www.vh1.com/news/articles/1499352/20050331/hedberg_mitch.jhtml"&gt;Click&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;smallville season 3 on dvd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111236610747430688?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111236610747430688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111236610747430688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111236610747430688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111236610747430688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-cannot-believe-this.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111229225850840656</id><published>2005-04-01T01:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T13:55:21.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's times like these I just wanna smack myself right on the head and scream. I'm not supposed to love *you, not supposed to care. Not supposed to want *you right here next to me. Not supposed. But why do I still? It's frustrating to keep forcing myself to swoon and think every &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; guy is cute or hot or whatever else, hoping that *you're not all that I think *you are. Equally frustrating trying to convince myself I don't care about *you anymore. I don't even know what these tears are for. I wish they would purge everything that I feel right now. But instead, I'm drowning in them. I'm trying so hard to disengage myself from emotions. I want to be completely devoid of feelings and emotions so I wouldn't have to care about *you anymore. I'm just not sure of anything anymore. Just yesterday, I felt the pain had obtunded but I woke up this morning to antipodean feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish time would just accelerate, and become May 30. Maybe then I wouldn't have to think of *you. When the verity that all I should think of for the next few years of my life, is burying myself in work, hits me right in the face. Perhaps that's just how I'm programmed to be. To always go through the &lt;em&gt;cycle&lt;/em&gt; of making a myriad of mistakes then having them come back and kick me right where it hurts. Rik said something a few days back to me. That I'm &lt;strong&gt;never&lt;/strong&gt; satisfied with what I have. There's always this sense of wanting more, of knowing that there's more out there for me. In others, it works well. It pushes them to do more, to strive for what they want. In me, it's simply deleterious! So now, what on earth can I do, what else can I say but let me go &lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm attempting to actually write well. I realized my english has retrograded over the past year. With three quarters of my language punctuated with singlish and the other one quarter, &lt;strong&gt;broken&lt;/strong&gt; chinese. Then again, I might just be letting my depression affect that ability I once had to write. I really want to be able to be like before, where I'd be able to pick up a pen, and words (in proper english) would just flow. I miss sitting around, letting my mind wander, and see those random thoughts alchemize into writings. I really need to be the old me, the geek, the loser. At least then being happy wasn't a major achievement. I've divagated from what I set out to blog. I hope this is a sign that I'm getting back into the flow of writing again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;shuffling &lt;/b&gt;absintheglow (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;self titled&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111229225850840656?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111229225850840656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111229225850840656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111229225850840656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111229225850840656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/04/its-times-like-these-i-just-wanna.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111194351403410399</id><published>2005-03-28T01:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T14:47:25.243+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The fact that I'm leaving in like 64 days hasn't really sunk in yet. It feels so surreal. And it honestly doesn't help with my mom acting like she's packing me off to some foreign land halfway around the world. The constant "please pack your room and make sure it's easy for us if we decide to move house", "make a list of everything you'd need in the apartment", "study hard and make sure you don't disappoint your dad again. he's spending alot of money on you" and whatever else is just stressing me out! All I can ever make myself do, besides breathing, is to mug and sleep. I feel derailed, thrown off the track of life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange how the people you expect would care about your imminent departure just don't. And yet those you didn't expect to bother actually do! It actually hurts to realize that those I thought I could count on just don't give a rat's ass. So much for the declaration of&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; eternal&lt;/span&gt; friendship, loyalty and being there for each other. I'm probably the only one who buys words and actually lives up to my end of the promise (or rather bargain).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanna tell *you that I'm leaving. Hoping and praying with all my heart that *you'll even care. I don't even dare to ask for anything more than *you caring as a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt;. I don't know what else to say to *you, really. I've said all that I want to in those letters I've never sent out, those texts stored in my cell, those mails stored in my mailbox. All I can say right now, and I say it without levity, is that ILOVE*YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's exhausting having to feign exuberance, when all I'm feeling inside is vacuity. No one understands how it is to go through this. To want to kill yourself yet not have the energy and will to do that. So maybe I do have energy. The edgy, anxious type of energy that drives me to keep myself busy. To satisfy the colossal, pernicious need I have to keep my mind working. There will always be this part of my mind that goes off in tandem, as if it's made to cogitate the mess that is my life. I'm so wrecked, so unstable both mentally and emotionally, a complete disaster. I'm no longer equipped with any kind of emotional resilience. I can't stay still when the storm rages around me, can't go with the flow. Constantly wallowing in depression has left me without any perspective and I'm not sure I want that back anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only these tears were cathartic. I hardly know what I'm crying about anymore. Perhaps I'm crying over the evanescence of love, the fact that I've resigned myself to. That I'll never be loved the way I want to be, that I'll never ever be able to have someone to fill me so completely, that he fills this hole of depression. I've this desperation to take *you inside me, to fill that great hole of depression. Perhaps I'm trying to find a way of releasing the pain. Upset that the people I thought I could count on can't be counted on. I don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't go on. This has been the longest entry in a long time. And pretty vulnerable too. I simply don't give a shit anymore. If this is gonna change anyone's opinion of me, fine. It's your opinion. I'm not gonna sugar coat my messed up life to please anyone. I'm a depressive so what? I'm psychotic, so what? Neurotic, so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and the empty bottle it misses *you&lt;br /&gt;yeah and i'm the one that it's talking to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and with *you and i just barely strangers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i'm pretty much just left the fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;damn don't the streets look empty though&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just wandering here without *you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;to be the one - ryan adams&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111194351403410399?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111194351403410399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111194351403410399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111194351403410399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111194351403410399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/fact-that-im-leaving-in-like-64-days.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111176177359953615</id><published>2005-03-25T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T22:42:53.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't stop thinking of *you and it's pissing the crap out of me. I'm announcing that no matter what happens, I just wanna mug hard and do what I have to do to make sure the returns are high. And I just wake up every morning trying so hard not to cry cause *you were in my dreams. WTF are you doing, cheryl?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;heard *you've been making the rounds around here, while i've been trying to make tears disappear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i'm ALMOST. or so i'd like to think&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;i'm almost over *you - lila mccann&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111176177359953615?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111176177359953615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111176177359953615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111176177359953615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111176177359953615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-cant-stop-thinking-of-you-and-its.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111158998650549192</id><published>2005-03-23T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T23:01:52.483+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yet more cds from&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/"&gt; amazon&lt;/a&gt;. I need to stop this. Urgh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 128px; height: 124px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0003JAO8G.01._PE29_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hahaha i bought this for the heck of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 120px; height: 120px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0006L5S50.01._SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this was the opening song in closer. where jude law and natalie portman were walking down the street. i really love this song. but i couldn't find the album so i just got the single&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 109px; height: 107px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00004XSKU.01._PE12_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 112px; height: 110px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00022KF1A.01._PE14_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they are great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Also Death Cab, Zero 7 and Postal Service albums :\ The rate I'm going, my dad will kill me. Yes, I stole his credit card number. Well, not really stole, I haven't told him I was buying so many cds :\ Dead meat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing &lt;/b&gt;brand new day - forty foot echo (oth ost)&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111158998650549192?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111158998650549192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111158998650549192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111158998650549192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111158998650549192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/yet-more-cds-from-amazon.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111150772527962685</id><published>2005-03-23T00:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T01:24:57.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here I go, thinking 'bout all the things I could've done&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna need a forklift, cause all the baggage weighs a ton&lt;br /&gt;I know *we've had our problems, I can't remember one&lt;br /&gt;I almost forgot to say something else&lt;br /&gt;And if I can't fit it in, I'll keep it all to myself&lt;br /&gt;I almost wrote a song about *you today&lt;br /&gt;But I tore it all up and then I threw it away&lt;br /&gt;And I almost had *you but I guess that doesn't cut it&lt;br /&gt;Almost had *you and I didn't even know it &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Alrights, enough of being a complete basket case. "knock knock! earth calling cher" Chem beckons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; almost - bowling for soup&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111150772527962685?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111150772527962685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111150772527962685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111150772527962685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111150772527962685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/here-i-go-thinking-bout-all-things-i.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111134636682662610</id><published>2005-03-21T03:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-21T03:22:35.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've to stop this excessive blogging. &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/"&gt;Amazon.com&lt;/a&gt; My new favourite haunt for late night insomnia induced shopping sprees. Just got these&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.stlyrics.com/ama/gardenstate_b0002j58lk.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this is awesome! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 147px; height: 147px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0007QMS20.01._PE7_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;even more awesome. i'm so in love with the oc and the the music kicks some serious ass! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 145px; height: 127px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00070EBS0.01._PE29_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't ask why. btw, i like this show cause it's a lesbo show. ahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; -&lt;b&gt;playing&lt;/b&gt; the oc dvd : behind the scenes&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111134636682662610?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111134636682662610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111134636682662610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111134636682662610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111134636682662610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/ive-to-stop-this-excessive-blogging.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111124635765060398</id><published>2005-03-19T23:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T23:32:37.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My dad's just ridiculously hilarious sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;agent: so do you guys want the room with the double or single bed?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dad: the single. she's got alot of time to get involved with guys after graduation &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And I just stare in complete wonderment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; the oc season 1 dvd, episode 11&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111124635765060398?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111124635765060398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111124635765060398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111124635765060398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111124635765060398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-dads-just-ridiculously-hilarious.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111107553185197074</id><published>2005-03-17T23:52:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T00:12:55.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I put so much pressure and expectation on myself that I feel I'm gonna break down before I leave. This is my last chance to prove myself, I must do it. Yet being level headed hurts like mad. It hurts, I'm in excruciating pain right now. Please, will *you come and ease the pain? I suppose not, *you're too busy dancing and smiling with *your &lt;em&gt;girl&lt;/em&gt;! And BryanKoh, thanks for reminding me again that I'd make the world's shittiest girlfriend. Damn you! Just leave me alone everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;well in case *you failed to notice, in case *you failed to see. &lt;strong&gt;this is my heart bleeding before *you, this is me down on my knees&lt;/strong&gt;. these foolish games are tearing me apart, and *&lt;strong&gt;your thoughtless words are breaking my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-playing&lt;/strong&gt; foolish games - jewel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111107553185197074?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111107553185197074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111107553185197074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111107553185197074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111107553185197074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-put-so-much-pressure-and-expectation.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111065008521418921</id><published>2005-03-13T01:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T01:54:45.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm counting down. 80 days till I leave. I'm doing the right thing. I know I am. I don't need *you in my life. I don't need someone who doesn't want me. I don't. But that doesn't change the fact that I want *you in my life and that I love *you still. I need to breathe. Suffocating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;((now i will tell *you what i've done for *you. 50000 tears i've cried. &lt;strong&gt;screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for *you, and *you still won't hear me&lt;/strong&gt;. going under. don't want *your hand this time, i'll save myself. &lt;em&gt;maybe i'll wake up for once&lt;/em&gt;, wake up for once. not tormented daily, defeated by *you. just when i thought i'd reach the bottom. &lt;strong&gt;i'm dying again. i'm going under, drowning in *you. i'm falling forever, i've got to break through. i'm going under&lt;/strong&gt;))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; going under - evanescence&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111065008521418921?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111065008521418921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111065008521418921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111065008521418921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111065008521418921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-counting-down.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111044651459843885</id><published>2005-03-10T17:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T23:52:39.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate how those dreams of *you and the memories are stopping me from leaving. Just this morning I woke up, called Ker and said I didn't wanna go anymore. But those are just dreams, just memories. *We're over, have been over for ages. For the one time in my life, I shall be PRACTICAL, be REALISTIC. Just like how *you always told me to be. This is the one time I'm gonna show the world, and myself that there is sanity left in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality has slapped me right in the face. Cold, hard bitch that reality. I owe my folks way too much. &lt;strong&gt;I need to be fine. I need to make it&lt;/strong&gt;! This is my &lt;strong&gt;last&lt;/strong&gt; chance to prove myself. That I'm not as stupid as I think I am, that I'm not a parasite on earth. I owe it to my parents to come back and succeed as a doctor or a psychiatrist! I owe that much to them. They've invested (in their own words) too much in me and I need to do my part to make sure the rate of returns are high!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED TO BE FINE! I will go to Melbourne. I will study and do my best. I will continue to trust God for His goodness and that He will not fail me though I'm such a horrible person. I will miss *you and think of *you. I will still love *you. But that's all. I will not let the pain stop me from doing my typical-chinese-need-to-save-face folks proud!! So really, it doesn't matter how much I miss *you, think of *you and love *you! &lt;strong&gt;*You don't care&lt;/strong&gt;! I just need to keep reminding myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;but it's not so bad, *you're only the best i ever had. *&lt;strong&gt;you don't want me back&lt;/strong&gt;, *you're just the best i ever had&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; the best i ever had - vertical horizon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111044651459843885?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111044651459843885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111044651459843885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111044651459843885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111044651459843885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-hate-how-those-dreams-of-you-and.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111033994866067130</id><published>2005-03-09T11:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T13:17:30.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was just scribbling in my notebook that I'm deeply loved by Jesus. And I heard Him sing to me "&lt;strong&gt;Nothing's gonna change my love for you&lt;/strong&gt;" So nice right! Haha I'm high, drowned in His goodness ((:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; nothing's gonna change my love for you - glenn medeiros&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111033994866067130?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111033994866067130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111033994866067130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111033994866067130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111033994866067130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-was-just-scribbling-in-my-notebook.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111029442341716430</id><published>2005-03-08T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T23:07:03.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wanna tell *you, but it doesn't matter does it? *You smile at her, she at *you. And that leaves me out. So yes, I should go and remain there. &lt;strong&gt;Far away&lt;/strong&gt; from *you and *&lt;em&gt;your girl&lt;/em&gt;. Yesterday, &lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; said the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in ages. But words are just words. What &lt;u&gt;we&lt;/u&gt; have is too special, people would kill for this. Ironically, &lt;u&gt;we&lt;/u&gt; save each other's asses. Something *you'll &lt;strong&gt;never&lt;/strong&gt; do for me, and I'll never have the chance to do for *you. &lt;em&gt;And no, I'm not in love with &lt;u&gt;him&lt;/u&gt;, neither is &lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; with me. &lt;u&gt;We're&lt;/u&gt; just good friends (and a little more)&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One &lt;strong&gt;last &lt;/strong&gt;crazy, stupid, sweet (whichever way *you choose to see it) thing I've done for *you. Maybe I'll never have the guts to pass it to *you. Maybe I will risk having it shoved right back in my face. Just maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;*&lt;em&gt;for once in my life the future is mine, it's calling me. i've been searching so long for an answer, but it's too late now. so I'm takin' my chances&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; i'll cry for *you - europe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111029442341716430?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111029442341716430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111029442341716430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111029442341716430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111029442341716430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-wanna-tell-you-but-it-doesnt-matter.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111025579723089055</id><published>2005-03-08T12:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T12:26:51.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;him&lt;/u&gt;: what would i do when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;me: call me *winks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;him&lt;/u&gt;: yeah and pay how much?&lt;br /&gt;me: aren't i worth it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;him&lt;/u&gt;: you're right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*you and &lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt;. worlds apart. but maybe i seek perfection, and *you're almost perfect (if humans could be perfect, *you'd be). &lt;u&gt;he's&lt;/u&gt; my &lt;em&gt;favourite&lt;/em&gt; boy. *you? i can't even begin to describe all that *you are to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; so cold - breaking benjamin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111025579723089055?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111025579723089055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111025579723089055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111025579723089055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111025579723089055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/him-what-would-i-do-when-youre-gone-me.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111020074167175342</id><published>2005-03-07T20:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T02:10:41.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;parkconnector.shadeycorner.***s.myveryownjerk.favoriteboy&lt;/strong&gt;- &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;iloveyoubabe, thanks for everything&lt;/em&gt;" *big cheesy grin* &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; appreciates me&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;*you&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;don't&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; cares for me&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;*you don't&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; takes care of me&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;*you don't&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;he&lt;/u&gt; misses me&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;*you don't&lt;/strong&gt;. So why am i so hung up on *you? I pray distance is proportionate to how much I care for *you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;without you, can't stop the hurt inside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; when love and hate collide - def leppard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111020074167175342?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111020074167175342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111020074167175342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111020074167175342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111020074167175342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/parkconnector.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-111001770663657023</id><published>2005-03-05T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T18:16:43.573+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>-&lt;strong&gt;cml-lookey.bababoy.&lt;u&gt;ex-ascian.rugger&lt;/u&gt;.sweet.eyeseyeseyes&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Yes Ker, I saw him again today. Turns out he's my mom's aunt's son. I'm completely mortified. But it's eyecandy once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; a sorta fairytale - tori amos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-111001770663657023?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/111001770663657023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=111001770663657023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111001770663657023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/111001770663657023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/cml-lookey.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110995251456864421</id><published>2005-03-05T00:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T00:08:34.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was on A&amp;F and FCUK's websites and I saw some gorgeous shirts for guys. Volunteer boyfriend anyone? I need to shop for a guy and I should stop spoiling Bry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;long lost words whisper slowly to me, still can't find what keeps me here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; haunted - evanescence&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110995251456864421?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110995251456864421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110995251456864421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110995251456864421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110995251456864421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-was-on-af-and-fcuks-websites-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110985809071157461</id><published>2005-03-03T21:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T22:12:02.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a big step to walk away from *you. ineluctable! confirmed only by a sight that sent my heart for yet another round of pulverization&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;my love for *you still grows, this i do for *you. before i try to fight the truth my final time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing &lt;/strong&gt;understanding - evanescence&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110985809071157461?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110985809071157461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110985809071157461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110985809071157461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110985809071157461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/big-step-to-walk-away-from-you.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110978227037566193</id><published>2005-03-03T00:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T01:33:34.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Some things don't have to be said but most things have to. What would make *you listen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i'm sleeping with the ghost of *you and me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;b&gt;playing ghost of *you and me - bbmak&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110978227037566193?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110978227037566193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110978227037566193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110978227037566193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110978227037566193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/some-things-dont-have-to-be-said-but.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110969160985926256</id><published>2005-03-01T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T23:40:09.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wrote two songs today after like a million years. I don't feel like I used to feel when I finished writing a song. Instead I feel so inept. Words used to flow so easily but now my writings seem so retarded. It lacks a certain sagaciousness and depth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;trying to stop this paroxysm of tears&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; love songs on class 95&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110969160985926256?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110969160985926256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110969160985926256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110969160985926256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110969160985926256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-wrote-two-songs-today-after-like.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110960578188322918</id><published>2005-02-28T23:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T23:49:41.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I remember that Mel said Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson was a song for me. But it's only today that I fully realized what she meant. Am I honestly that big a mess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so now i'm alone, and life keeps moving on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but my destination's still unknown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;will there be a time when i fall in love again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;or am i just meant to walk these streets alone&lt;/strong&gt;? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;if there was just one wish i could be granted here tonight,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;it would be to have *you right back by my side &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(when the last teardrop falls - blaque)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing &lt;/strong&gt;oscars on tv&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110960578188322918?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110960578188322918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110960578188322918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110960578188322918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110960578188322918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/02/i-remember-that-mel-said-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110943772379031841</id><published>2005-02-27T01:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-27T01:09:37.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when a girl says i love you, she means it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when a girl says she can't live without you, she has made up her mind that you're her future.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when a girl says "i miss you", no one in this world can miss you more than that. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(from mich's blog) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;one thing's for sure, i'll never have regrets about this. because i've put myself and my heart out there for *you. it's up to *you to see what i've done. everything that i've said to *you came from my heart. everytime i said i love *you, i meant it. every single time. it's up to *you to see and believe everything for *yourself. there's only so much i can do and say. i'm standing on the ledge, about to jump.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; revolve - nine days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110943772379031841?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110943772379031841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110943772379031841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110943772379031841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110943772379031841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/02/when-girl-says-i-love-you-she-means-it.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110930885408642189</id><published>2005-02-25T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T13:20:54.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bry said that he isn't afraid of loneliness cause we come into this world alone and we leave alone. So all the company we have on earth are just temporal. Logical no? Food for thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; myspace music&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110930885408642189?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110930885408642189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110930885408642189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110930885408642189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110930885408642189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/02/bry-said-that-he-isnt-afraid-of.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110921982685534172</id><published>2005-02-24T12:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T12:37:06.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this romeo is bleeding/but *you can't see his blood/it's nothing but some feelings/that this old dog kicked up/&lt;strong&gt;it's been raining since *you left me/now i'm drowning in the flood&lt;/strong&gt;/*you see i've always been a fighter/but &lt;strong&gt;without *you i give up&lt;/strong&gt;/now i can't sing a love song/like the way it's meant to be/well i guess i'm not that good anymore/but *baby that's just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and i will love *you baby, always and i'll be there forever and a day. always i'll be there till the sun don't shine, till the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme. and i know when i die *you'll be on my mind. and i'll love *you always.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now *your pictures that *you left behind/are just memories of a different life/some that made us laugh/some that made us cry/one that made you have to say good bye/&lt;strong&gt;what i'd give to run my fingers through *your hair/to touch *your lips/ to hold *you near&lt;/strong&gt;/when *you say *your prayers try to understand/i've made mistakes i'm just a man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;when she holds *you close, when she pulls *you near. when she says the words *you've been needing to hear, i'll wish i was her, that her words were mine, to say to *you till the end of time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well there ain't no luck in these loaded dice/but baby &lt;strong&gt;if *you give me just one more try&lt;/strong&gt;/we can pack up our old dreams and our old lives/we'll find a place where the sun still shines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing&lt;/strong&gt; always - bon jovi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110921982685534172?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110921982685534172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110921982685534172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110921982685534172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110921982685534172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/02/this-romeo-is-bleedingbut-you-cant-see.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6908786.post-110916570758454776</id><published>2005-02-23T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T12:23:29.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Omg!! I love that Joseph Murena dude on AMI! He sang Michael Bolton's 'How Am I Supposed To Live Without *You.' Aiight, his voice isn't amazing but I don't know, there's just something about him. Just the question I need answered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to Mel about a certain someone this afternoon. And we came to the same conclusion. Some guys would just be &lt;strong&gt;those&lt;/strong&gt; guys to you. Like how Bry always be that wonderful, amazing sweetheart that he is. Ed will always be the *toot* who never fails to cheer me up. Darryl will always be my favourite boy. Nigel will always be NigeyBoy to me. My babyboy would always be just that-my babyboy! And how *you'll always be the love of my life. And THAT is the problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To everyone who tagged or smsed: THANKS everyone!! I LOVE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[edit] I lost my mouse today at the cafe in school. What an idiot! Walked out with Yingliang and I was like "Damn, where's my phone". Rummaged in my bag and found my phone. Turns out I lost the mouse not the damn phone. Shows how attached I am to my phone. HELP! I hate using the touchpad -sighs- [/edit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;playing &lt;/strong&gt;how am i supposed to live without *you - michael bolton&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6908786-110916570758454776?l=imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/feeds/110916570758454776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6908786&amp;postID=110916570758454776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110916570758454776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6908786/posts/default/110916570758454776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfect-perfection.blogspot.com/2005/02/omg-i-love-that-joseph-murena-dude-on.html' title=''/><author><name>cher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875712159863296479</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BRLy1OPO7n4/STZTI5dTXyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zDAs8fCjHY0/S220/Image070.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
