<?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-6073649195808126059</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:41:22.605+08:00</updated><category term='take one at a time.'/><category term='never fall too deeply.'/><category term='tak emo tak'/><category term='i miss myself.'/><category term='the 21st..'/><title type='text'>mind your own business</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>279</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3148026724464686083</id><published>2011-09-25T13:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T13:16:13.577+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Strangers stray into your life and wreck your happiness. Belated birthday celebration for my lil sister. We are still young, perhaps there's many more challenges coming.&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TJKjTC10TDs/Tn65Fhp6SeI/AAAAAAAACbk/Bjxb_cTBRMM/s640/blogger-image-1961392153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TJKjTC10TDs/Tn65Fhp6SeI/AAAAAAAACbk/Bjxb_cTBRMM/s640/blogger-image-1961392153.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-RjhScZW_Cm0/Tn65GP86rGI/AAAAAAAACbo/96K0YmMJBaQ/s640/blogger-image-1620187659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-RjhScZW_Cm0/Tn65GP86rGI/AAAAAAAACbo/96K0YmMJBaQ/s640/blogger-image-1620187659.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1tj-Is9ojB0/Tn65GoxERnI/AAAAAAAACbs/azA05NIKgq0/s640/blogger-image--867305317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1tj-Is9ojB0/Tn65GoxERnI/AAAAAAAACbs/azA05NIKgq0/s640/blogger-image--867305317.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-w1fSEkB1uWQ/Tn65HGgjVdI/AAAAAAAACbw/QOFi5GOaXbo/s640/blogger-image--2036489027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-w1fSEkB1uWQ/Tn65HGgjVdI/AAAAAAAACbw/QOFi5GOaXbo/s640/blogger-image--2036489027.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3148026724464686083?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3148026724464686083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3148026724464686083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3148026724464686083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3148026724464686083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/09/strangers-stray-into-your-life-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TJKjTC10TDs/Tn65Fhp6SeI/AAAAAAAACbk/Bjxb_cTBRMM/s72-c/blogger-image-1961392153.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1854776484275438857</id><published>2011-06-12T19:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T19:58:43.417+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It has been a while since i last posted an entry. I missed penning my thoughts. I don't have the luxury time to even watch movies on weekdays. Life has been all busy with hectic working schedule what's with waking up as early as 5.50am and reaching home almost 8pm almost everyday. Most of the time, on the way home, i'd be half dead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can't believe it's coming mid of June 2011. However, looking back at the past 6 months of 2011, I am kind of proud with myself because I am halfway to fulfilling my 2011 Resolutions. I shouldn't be complacent, yes, I know. Oh well, nothing much has changed though. But i think i am improving in terms of dependency. I have grown into much more independent person as compared to myself years ago. I have learn to be alone confidently not caring much about what others might be thinking about me. I used to be those kind of schmuck who always 'assume' what others think of me. But now, i don't even give an eff even if they're gossiping about me. I do almost everything alone these days and i am proud of myself. I've always told myself that, we're born alone in this world. No one is created for another person. And so, i can now eat lunch, watch movie, shopping, slacking, stoning at any place on my own. Sounds pathetic to you, but i am more than ecstatic that I am progressing well with my life. I have stop contemplating about death. In fact, the idea of death is far from my head now. I am scared of getting old though. Every now and then, i'd always imagine being old and helpless. I always tear whenever i see old folks on the street asking for some moolah from strangers. I fear of aging. But it is inevitable. Time is ticking, we're growing older each and every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday, after receiving that letter, i am filled with fear. I hadn't told anyone in my house about it, because i don't want any of them to worry over me. I have done so much harm to them in the past, and i aint gonna make the same mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still vague about my future plans. Part of me says that I should be doing what I want. But the other part of me is bugging me to pursue something which would make big bucks for me in the future. Having to be realistic, the standard of living in Singapore is getting higher each day now. I am not surprise if one day a plate of chicken rice at the hawker centre cost $6. Anyways, tentatively, i have something on my mind though. I can foresee that the minimal education  recognised certification for little singaporeans would be diploma. It doesn't matter which institute you 'purchase' your diploma from, but yes, i bet everybody of my gen-Y would carry diploma! God damn it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough said, i am tired. My mind is pretty exhausted. I hate it when you bring me up to the sky and next moment, you crash me down to the ground. Fucking prick. I am tired of crying, I am tired of arguing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1854776484275438857?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1854776484275438857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1854776484275438857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1854776484275438857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1854776484275438857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/06/it-has-been-while-since-i-last-posted.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5142575429799124575</id><published>2011-05-07T14:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T14:32:25.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what have i done to myself?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what was i thinking? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;had i never thought of the outcome?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;just what the eff was i thinking!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5142575429799124575?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5142575429799124575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5142575429799124575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5142575429799124575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5142575429799124575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-have-i-done-to-myself-what-was-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2126312674214771361</id><published>2011-04-10T21:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T21:09:54.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HFysqQTxaSY/TaGr5Te2czI/AAAAAAAACbU/uimK8o6DcEs/s1600/collage.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593941213141431090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HFysqQTxaSY/TaGr5Te2czI/AAAAAAAACbU/uimK8o6DcEs/s400/collage.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;stuck in reverse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2126312674214771361?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2126312674214771361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2126312674214771361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2126312674214771361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2126312674214771361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/04/stuck-in-reverse.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HFysqQTxaSY/TaGr5Te2czI/AAAAAAAACbU/uimK8o6DcEs/s72-c/collage.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3646843562752290872</id><published>2011-03-10T14:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T14:46:36.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am  wholly uncertain about what holds onto my future. Unlike any other human beings, I am concerned on my rather vague future. I had forgotten what's the true feeling of happiness. But I cant be bothered to have a tiny bit of it. I have terrible trust problem. I trust no one in my life. I don't see the point of having friends either. Friends are those who visit your life for a certain period of time and past by gone. It's like that. Therefore, i don't see the point of keeping any in my pocket. Friends? They almost ruined my life. That is how bad having friends could be. Bad influence. Terrible Liar. Lack of honesty. And Two-faced bitch. They're simply wasteful pieces which could never fit in to complete piece of your life puzzle. Ask me, i don't have best friends. I used to have a few. But as I grow older, i know, i don't need any of them to make me who i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for love, it was a huge mistake to learn about this thing called love. A million time i told myself, i'd be more than happy not knowing what is love. But it's too late, isnt it? Love totally takes away the happiness in you. You fail to see happiness within yourself thereafter. Once you caught yourself into love, you simply can't get over it. You want more and more of it even though you're excruciatingly suffocated with agony. You fail to see the good side of living alone. You yearn the love from someone else. Little did you realize, you had failed to love yourself. Because you were busy trying to give and get love from someone. You do know, don't you? Love fades away. I can bet on my life that those couple who are together forever, lives their life with no love basis at all. They're living together because they couldn't stand living alone anymore. They're immune to having each other in their life. Yet, they had forgotten to make each other realize the true meaning of them being together. Well, like friends. Someday, I'd come to realize the fact that love is malarkey. When that someday comes along, I'd be as strong as living alone for the rest of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, i don't see the point of living. You're living while waiting for your death call. Ironic. You Live to Die. or Die to Live. Well, perhaps some people would choose the latter. I am losing track of my life. I'm still doing my soul-searching. I believe in myself that I'm gonna be good all by myself. All I need in my life are my mum, dad and grandma who would always be there 24/7 whenever i need any kind of help. they are the people who would never leave me despite anything. I can't deny death call though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3646843562752290872?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3646843562752290872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3646843562752290872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3646843562752290872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3646843562752290872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-am-wholly-uncertain-about-what-holds.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3335807933913247169</id><published>2011-03-04T23:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T23:54:38.611+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's fucking time to wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3335807933913247169?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3335807933913247169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3335807933913247169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3335807933913247169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3335807933913247169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-fucking-time-to-wake-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-205991565688212124</id><published>2011-02-20T20:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T20:27:23.858+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i miss falling in love..&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired of trapped in love..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-205991565688212124?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/205991565688212124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=205991565688212124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/205991565688212124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/205991565688212124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-miss-falling-in-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5593886127280257035</id><published>2011-02-06T16:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T16:36:04.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>no living man on earth in their right mind would hang up the phone on someone who's feeling terribly upset. no man would ignore the fact that his loved one is crying, unless on one term; no love basis. yes. or perhaps, you don't mean anything to em' penis. great, lesson learnt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5593886127280257035?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5593886127280257035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5593886127280257035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5593886127280257035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5593886127280257035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/02/no-living-man-on-earth-in-their-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1838845979982180367</id><published>2011-02-06T01:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T01:20:20.070+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>never ever continue on a relationship when trust has been jeopardized. never ever once lie to your loved one, cos once the trust has been shattered, there's no way a relationship can sail smoothly without breaking apart.. there's no point carry on, cos eventho trust can be fixed, u'd see a motherfucking cracks in btwn it. never ever believe in a liar. he's simply a liar, a man full of lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1838845979982180367?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1838845979982180367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1838845979982180367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1838845979982180367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1838845979982180367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/02/never-ever-continue-on-relationship.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4186542419289393581</id><published>2011-02-05T23:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T23:41:12.894+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>there's a saying that says 'once you caught your man lying to you, he would lie to u over and over again thereafter'.. i have also learnt that, i dun need friends or foe to make my life meaningful. cos, i have learnt not to blame others for my unhappiness nor happiness. This feelings comes within thyself.. I brought this upon myself, i'd contain it to myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4186542419289393581?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4186542419289393581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4186542419289393581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4186542419289393581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4186542419289393581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/02/theres-saying-that-says-once-you-caught.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5345258139147834654</id><published>2011-01-16T23:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T23:46:52.929+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>despite the fact that it's already year 2011, nothing had changed to be better. i cry every single night now.. whenever i lie down on my bed, i'd turn to my left n think abt nenek.. ive missed her so much.. when i close my eyes, all i think abt is having her back by my side every nite. im just a weak person, i cant miss nenek and fai at the same time. fai and i are beyond repair. our relationshp is as good as living corpse. we're getting distant, no more happiness. both of us dun feel the connection anymor. We're just forcing ourselves to be in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5345258139147834654?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5345258139147834654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5345258139147834654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5345258139147834654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5345258139147834654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2011/01/despite-fact-that-its-already-year-2011.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8730910860795507832</id><published>2010-12-11T14:23:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T14:59:59.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"There was a time&lt;br /&gt;When I was so brokenhearted&lt;br /&gt;Love wasn't much of a friend of mine&lt;br /&gt;The tables have turned - yeah&lt;br /&gt;'Cause me and him ways have parted&lt;br /&gt;That kinda love was the killin' kind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want is someone I can't resist&lt;br /&gt;I know all I need to know&lt;br /&gt;By the way that I got kissed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was Cryin' when I met you&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm tryin' to forget you&lt;br /&gt;Your love is sweet misery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there's not even breathing room&lt;br /&gt;Between pleasure and pain&lt;br /&gt;Do what you do to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause what you got inside&lt;br /&gt;Ain't where your love should stay&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, our love, sweet love, ain't love&lt;br /&gt;'Til you give your heart away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was cryin' when I met you&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm dyin' to forget you&lt;br /&gt;Your love is sweet misery"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;it took me more than 5 yrs to finally convince myself that love is all bullshit. when i was 15, it was pretty hard to decipher the meaning of love. i was such a happy kid those days, being pampered and thought of living happily ever after with that prick! what a shame, because it didn't last long. he left, i let myself drown in misery, when all of a sudden, another prick walked into my life and uttered all the bunkum.. i was a fool then, i let myself fall for another man yet again. i've cried so much this time round, i felt i've been trapped in a vicious cycle; the first few months were somehow blissful, head over heels, hugs, kisses, hands all over each other, but guess what? it was simply infatuation, lust. at the back of my head, i thought it would be like that throughout, excitement, happiness, laughter; i was wrong, thus this makes me believe that love does not exist between two strangers. it feels terrible trying hard to forget about someone. i am sorry for myself, for hating my life over some useless pricks. how stupid of me to even think that he will look for me once i disappear someday, cos he's precisely better off without me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;perhaps it is my fault, for being such a schmuck allowing myself for some cheap promises. or perhaps, it is my fault for not having the ability to make those pricks happy.. perhaps, it is not my fault at all, cos Men, they get bored eventually. damn, i had nvr felt this devastated in my life before. i feel sick and tired of my life. i don't want to cry anymore, but i cant help myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8730910860795507832?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8730910860795507832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8730910860795507832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8730910860795507832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8730910860795507832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/12/there-was-time-when-i-was-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3904382058866121884</id><published>2010-11-28T15:55:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T16:33:07.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Okay, the previous two entries were pretty misleading.. i sounded like some pathetic 14 years old kiddo who was lost in lust and infatuation.. sheer bollocks, ultimate wrong choice of words when you're feeling empty and full of remorse. but look, i am feeling all strong and elated after my short runaway. the best weekend ever thus far, living independently not letting anything to affect my happiness. snuggle with the duvet like a little kid, ate worse than a cow, more than half an hour soaking in a hot bath playing with foam all by myself, no handphones, no laptops, no internet connections and no care at all! that is the life i had always missed. the life i used to have before i met this thing called love.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;look now, enough of tears and depression.. it is time to look forward to having a bright future. life could be such a beautiful thing to experience when i have learnt to eliminate the unhappiness which hinder me from being happy. guess what, almost a month now to 2011. time flies. never would i let myself be such a fool to continue living in misery.. some things are simply best to be left unsaid. at times, there would be certain things whereby, i'd give up whenever i feel drained. there's limit to everything in life. it's getting old and everybody would be sick and tired of it someday, seeing all grumbles us at loggerheads, not anymore for you. thinking back about what i thought 3 days ago; when i considered to drink Dettol to end all this misery, how sad it was when he doesnt even care i was feeling terrible. it was so wrong. i felt ultimately like a schmuck now. trying to take my own life away because of some useless people. no. i'd never think of such things again. i love the way i am now. God has given me the chance to experience all the bad ends of life, i have learnt a lot of things all in the hard way; in fact, almost everything. ive been at my worst end before, i know i am better off on my own.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"When you try your best, but you don't succeed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;When you get what you want, but not what you need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Stuck in reverse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And the tears come stream&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;When you lose something you can't replace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;When you love someone but it goes to waste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Could it be worse?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;High up above or down below&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;When you're too in love to let it go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;But if you never try you'll never know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Just what you're worth.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cos, nobody could ever fix me..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Everybody lives their life with empty promises haunting them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh Darling, you're not the only one who tells lies,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;As a matter of fact, everybody does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3904382058866121884?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3904382058866121884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3904382058866121884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3904382058866121884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3904382058866121884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/okay-previous-two-entries-were-pretty.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1261236613073606496</id><published>2010-11-27T12:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T12:03:29.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>rmbr tht tym when u switched off ur phone whenever ure out wif ur family members? rmbr tht tym when i waited for almost an hr at ur void deck when u ignored me for 3 days? rmbr tht tym when u went out wif ur army frens n switched off ur hp afraid tht i'd bother you? rmbr tht tym when smoke wif my brother eventho u promise not to smoke whenever ure wif me..rmbr tht night, u promise u'd make me happy again? no u dont. cos u had nvr made me happy...ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1261236613073606496?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1261236613073606496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1261236613073606496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1261236613073606496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1261236613073606496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/rmbr-tht-tym-when-u-switched-off-ur.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8306121383112892771</id><published>2010-11-26T22:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T22:32:56.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>2 days ago, i was stuck in sunplaza shoppin cntre toilet for almost 20mins, because i couldnt contain my sadness anymor..so ther i was,crying like an asshole when he was happily watching tv. n yet again,i found myself meeting him ytd. today, he made me cry again. so many things he doesn't like to do wif me now.. grant me the strength to carry on. what is love? Sad and Tears? Empty promises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8306121383112892771?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8306121383112892771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8306121383112892771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8306121383112892771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8306121383112892771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/2-days-ago-i-was-stuck-in-sunplaza.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-9036870976470964382</id><published>2010-11-13T11:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T12:05:33.137+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am sure the day is nearing, the day whereby i am able to stand alone on my feet, living my life all by myself, looking forward to the future each day without worrying about not being loved.. i dont have to earn happiness by sticking around those who don't seem to appreciate my presence. after all, i am just another passer-by in everybody's life. perhaps it's me. i dont see the point of being nice to others anymore. i dont see the need to have someone to make you happy, when in actual fact, i can make myself happy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-9036870976470964382?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/9036870976470964382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=9036870976470964382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/9036870976470964382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/9036870976470964382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-am-sure-day-is-nearing-day-whereby-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6539680387325167145</id><published>2010-11-07T21:43:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T22:19:11.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;dear &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;million times you tell me, not to mention about our love life in public.. yet, i still refuse to abide by it.. i know it's you, baby.. you're so absorb in your own world most of the time, not knowing what i need.. you think it's embarrassing to hug or kiss me openly.. it makes me wonder all the time, what is wrong with all that.. but when i watched you sleeping just now, i know one thing for sure, i can never live my life without you despite all of your weird notions about love.. i stared at your innocent calm face when you're faraway dreaming, it made me smile to myself. perhaps i have made the right choice for choosing you, i have made the right choice waiting for you, i have made the right choice persevering for the past few years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ten more days, baby. it'd mark our 3 years being together; fighting our way through, despite the ultimate numerous quarrels, and those stupid break-up attempts. i can kiss your face all the time, watch you sleep the whole night.. if you ask me, i still think about you all the time, dream about you every night and you are the first thing that comes into my mind every morning when i wake up.. that 17 november 2007 night is etched in my memory. i love you more than anything else in this world. my life would be terribly empty without your presence. i hope you feel the same way like i do, baby. thank you for loving me. till death do us part. i miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536810456139207650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TNazxkrYk-I/AAAAAAAACa8/hns4sGu5Zmo/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i do miss our good old honeymoon period though...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6539680387325167145?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6539680387325167145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6539680387325167145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6539680387325167145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6539680387325167145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/dear-baby-million-times-you-tell-me-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TNazxkrYk-I/AAAAAAAACa8/hns4sGu5Zmo/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4566306161863530090</id><published>2010-11-02T21:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T21:30:22.744+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the most sad thing in life is when the person who gives you mountains of promises, but fail to fulfill it. when he promised that he would make you happy once again, but end up making you cry almost everyday now. it's excruciatingly hurting. you believe them, but they take you for granted...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4566306161863530090?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4566306161863530090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4566306161863530090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4566306161863530090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4566306161863530090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/11/most-sad-thing-in-life-is-when-person.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4402497707927616237</id><published>2010-10-28T21:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T21:23:46.144+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when i miss u,i'd look at ur pictures on my phone,zoom it in,and stare at ur face.when the time comes whereby i miss u terribly,i'd zoom in ur pictures,touch n kiss ur face on my phone screen. i am turning 21yrs old, yet i am this pathetic.despite the fact we're turning 3 yrs old in a few wks time,i am still head over heels for u.i think of u every minutes of my life,i dream of u every night..u'd nvr know how i feel for you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4402497707927616237?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4402497707927616237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4402497707927616237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4402497707927616237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4402497707927616237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-i-miss-uid-look-at-ur-pictures-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-9216467627133150258</id><published>2010-10-17T22:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T22:19:43.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i dont understand why some guys get bored easily.. i honestly cant remember when was the last time my bf compliments me.. perhaps 2 and a half years ago, when he wrote a love letter for me.. im not sure why good things can never stay forever.. suddenly everything seems utterly flat and boring, no more excitement.. and i feel, i'm such a bad kisser, i cant even keep him last for a minute. what a loser.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-9216467627133150258?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/9216467627133150258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=9216467627133150258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/9216467627133150258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/9216467627133150258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-dont-understand-why-some-guys-get.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-574506622153473620</id><published>2010-09-21T21:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T21:58:30.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5n-JMkcI/AAAAAAAACak/_E-4hiXCc_A/s1600/SDC14199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519365439690150338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5n-JMkcI/AAAAAAAACak/_E-4hiXCc_A/s400/SDC14199.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5nWc78pI/AAAAAAAACac/AtGyPRI2Lao/s1600/SDC14212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519365429035528850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5nWc78pI/AAAAAAAACac/AtGyPRI2Lao/s400/SDC14212.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5m5zpdhI/AAAAAAAACaU/aRWz4ypwEms/s1600/SDC14219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519365421346158098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5m5zpdhI/AAAAAAAACaU/aRWz4ypwEms/s400/SDC14219.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-574506622153473620?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/574506622153473620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=574506622153473620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/574506622153473620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/574506622153473620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_21.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TJi5n-JMkcI/AAAAAAAACak/_E-4hiXCc_A/s72-c/SDC14199.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5095985506028181150</id><published>2010-09-12T02:23:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T01:35:07.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One month of Ramadhan is over;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome Syawal, unknowingly yet again..&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mother and nenek mustering the momentum of sadness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu3KpsKg4I/AAAAAAAACZ8/RR2HZadzNy4/s1600/SDC13573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515703562262971266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu3KpsKg4I/AAAAAAAACZ8/RR2HZadzNy4/s400/SDC13573.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; Look at this picture and then look at the next following picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu3J_klbnI/AAAAAAAACZ0/e8NzZdstIZ8/s1600/SDC13586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515703550956891762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu3J_klbnI/AAAAAAAACZ0/e8NzZdstIZ8/s400/SDC13586.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; If that is the case, i don't even realise we had the same facial expression.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515704841277800962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu4VGZEAgI/AAAAAAAACaE/KIluNvSPvJE/s400/SDC13595.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My only sister and my only bestfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515700570319681922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu0cf1S-YI/AAAAAAAACZM/qovXSZIhSU0/s400/SDC13541.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My &lt;strong&gt;"Younger"&lt;/strong&gt; brother and sister. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know what's the matter with all the people who&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt; always get the wrong impression that he is our YOUNGER brother. come on? blind or what?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu0c--FvPI/AAAAAAAACZU/seBs0UGcbps/s1600/SDC13546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515700578678062322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu0c--FvPI/AAAAAAAACZU/seBs0UGcbps/s400/SDC13546.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Myself with the one who is getting engaged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515700559708499138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu0b4TZLMI/AAAAAAAACZE/aGsz6QYh3L8/s400/SDC13536.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My not-completed collection of nephews and nieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515702187572350098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu16okYTJI/AAAAAAAACZc/GHuGMRu9Y08/s400/SDC13666.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mother's side. Near to completion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515702199982511618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu17WzMVgI/AAAAAAAACZk/a-58rXFkQzQ/s400/SDC13724.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;opening ceremony of day 2;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;none other than shikin. - Miss camWHORE. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIux09WeagI/AAAAAAAACY0/--suXPTvb2E/s1600/SDC13788.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515697692025448962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIux09WeagI/AAAAAAAACY0/--suXPTvb2E/s400/SDC13788.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;abang sapao kong mali kong; - mr VAIN&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515695905733680418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIuwM-5VHSI/AAAAAAAACYs/uJcUeq8nfvU/s400/SDC13794.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the one with new hairstylé yet again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIuwMJIgNUI/AAAAAAAACYk/lsnA4Y1vODw/s1600/SDC13784.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515695891301807426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIuwMJIgNUI/AAAAAAAACYk/lsnA4Y1vODw/s400/SDC13784.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;the ones who make me stay alive;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515695294012480386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIuvpYDoW4I/AAAAAAAACYc/JDcy-KD9T7k/s400/SDC13847.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;thicker than water;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515693852381530626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIuuVdkBygI/AAAAAAAACYE/_Tw5ulLqR8U/s400/SDC13818.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;father's side: the younger generation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515697703590786898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIux1ob3d1I/AAAAAAAACY8/td6iPAT0mQs/s400/SDC13815.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;well i guess, it doesn't matter. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love and happiness, within thyself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;it has always been my fault. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;someday, it'd never be my fault again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;i can't believe it's already sunday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;damn, tomorrow is monday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5095985506028181150?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5095985506028181150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5095985506028181150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5095985506028181150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5095985506028181150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_12.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TIu3KpsKg4I/AAAAAAAACZ8/RR2HZadzNy4/s72-c/SDC13573.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2198487362285737663</id><published>2010-09-08T23:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T00:04:46.705+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i have to ask him out. i have to remind him im still his gf. i have to ask for the plastic bags myself. i hav to pick up the tabs. i hav to ask him to hold me. i hav to ask him to hug me. i hav to ask him to kiss me. i hav to ask him to go out wif me on my 21st birthday. i hav to ask him to watch the firework together. i hav to ask him to write card raya for me. i hav to ask him to buy hari raya clothing that match with mine. i hav to ask him to call me. i hav to ask him to reply my msg. i forget to ask him, to leave me. fucking life i have yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2198487362285737663?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2198487362285737663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2198487362285737663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2198487362285737663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2198487362285737663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-have-to-ask-him-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4240488660158961917</id><published>2010-09-08T23:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:44:55.949+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>now then i understand what's the true meaning behind the say 'couple that drift apart as time goes by'.. it's ridiculously sad when your bf doesnt kiss and hug u anymor. it feels like u're as good as being friend to him. in fact, it's better to be friends. the best thing is, i have to ask him to kiss n hug me, n remind him that i am his girlfriend after all. Too bad, the spark has long gone. Goodbye fucker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4240488660158961917?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4240488660158961917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4240488660158961917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4240488660158961917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4240488660158961917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/now-then-i-understand-whats-true.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8946197465733581921</id><published>2010-09-05T01:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T01:23:29.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>staring blankly at the dark wall, crying helplessly searching for peace, i hope god will grant my wish in this holy night of the holy month. i am mentally drained. i wish there's someone hugging me tightly right now and wipe my tears away. i miss you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8946197465733581921?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8946197465733581921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8946197465733581921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8946197465733581921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8946197465733581921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/staring-blankly-at-dark-wall-crying.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8824005345612873284</id><published>2010-09-02T23:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T23:22:48.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was a smoking hot figure to you. i was the source of ur happiness. i was everything to you. i was the one who you would love to kiss and hug. i was the one who chose to be with you. i was an excitement to you. everything was in past tense. i am sad. i can't sleep. i can't stop crying. i cant stop thinking abt 17 nov 2007. i feel utterly unwanted and ugly. i just want to be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8824005345612873284?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8824005345612873284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8824005345612873284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8824005345612873284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8824005345612873284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-smoking-hot-figure-to-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2438780591843360348</id><published>2010-08-28T13:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T13:10:13.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today i woke up finding myself crying helplessly like a piece of shit.. i am utterly dejected of myself, i cant make him feel attached to me, i cant even turn on my bf anymore. and the worst thing is, whatever i say would be a piece of crap to him. im not sure who's fault is this. but i feel i am boring him. i am fucking fat now. i feel so empty. i feel so useless. i feel like there's no reason to live anymor. i wish i have friends. but it's too bad,im too dependant on him. now, i am scared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2438780591843360348?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2438780591843360348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2438780591843360348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2438780591843360348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2438780591843360348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/today-i-woke-up-finding-myself-crying.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2251631862424641885</id><published>2010-08-22T03:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T02:19:11.518+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes,it is better to lie than telling the truth..after all,if somebody loves you,he'd never do something that'd make you unhappy.its all about compromising.but some people,they simply cant give in..however,today just proves one thing,love is pure bullshit.im good all by myself.cos even if i cry, i'd be the one who wipes away my own tears of sorrow.was it even love?it wasn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2251631862424641885?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2251631862424641885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2251631862424641885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2251631862424641885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2251631862424641885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/sometimesit-is-better-to-lie-than.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5985420554020362576</id><published>2010-08-17T18:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T18:57:58.872+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TGprLxFNinI/AAAAAAAACXk/Tu_J8Wl2D10/s1600/SDC12686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506331344311782002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TGprLxFNinI/AAAAAAAACXk/Tu_J8Wl2D10/s400/SDC12686.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;this year we missed the fireworks three times in a row. yes, we could have experienced the magnificient feeling watching the beautiful spectacular view of the fireworks. however, God decides the better for us. there wouldnt be any fireworks festival this year, thats the bottomline. i am dejected. ask me why? watching fireworks reminds me of how my love for Ahmad blooms. our very second date, 18 August 2007, i still remember vividly every single thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you remember, three years ago, exactly this time; there we were sitting at Jurong Point McDonald, eating McSpicy Upsize Meal while smiling sheepishly to each other, our first date was it. You were clad in Army Uniform sweating profusely feeling all nervous. Time flies. Well, today marks the 17th of the month yet again; happy 33 months baby. i cant wait for the day when i wake up each and every morning, and the first thing i'd see would be your cute little face. I love you, Ahmad Fairuz. Thank you so much for loving me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5985420554020362576?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5985420554020362576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5985420554020362576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5985420554020362576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5985420554020362576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/this-year-we-missed-fireworks-three.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TGprLxFNinI/AAAAAAAACXk/Tu_J8Wl2D10/s72-c/SDC12686.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3883991861882434799</id><published>2010-08-15T01:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T01:56:20.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;i spent $35.70 to straighten my curl-to-be fringe,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;in order to get a straight in place bang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;when he gently ruffled my hair, pushed my fringe back, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;and said softly "now you look nice without having bang".. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;so much for wanting to get a compliment out of new hairstyle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;i regret consuming deng deng.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;cos now it seems utterly difficult to get it out of my stomach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"&gt;damn, attention seeker. you're sleepy but now, you can't fall asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3883991861882434799?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3883991861882434799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3883991861882434799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3883991861882434799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3883991861882434799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-spent-35.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6954339597229891448</id><published>2010-08-09T20:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T01:04:33.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;happy 53th birthday, daddy.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;we all love you..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504198634040466034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TGLXfsMsGnI/AAAAAAAACXU/oyd30xVWTM0/s400/1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;and i love you, ahmad fairuz..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6954339597229891448?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6954339597229891448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6954339597229891448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6954339597229891448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6954339597229891448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-53th-birthday-daddy.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TGLXfsMsGnI/AAAAAAAACXU/oyd30xVWTM0/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2614946173925817582</id><published>2010-08-08T00:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T00:32:04.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>counting down the days; i am worried about the future.. in two days time, everything will be different again.. im afraid of the real world. i wish i could still live in a world of fantasy.. i utterly loathe changes. i have to be prepared, to adapt to the changes, yet again.. i hope nothing much would change.. i'm gonna miss him so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2614946173925817582?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2614946173925817582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2614946173925817582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2614946173925817582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2614946173925817582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/08/counting-down-days-i-am-worried-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-999984240626637301</id><published>2010-07-25T22:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T22:45:02.332+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>time to bloody effing wake up, fatty. fucking fat. fat ass. ugly bulging fat stomach. fucking ugly. chubby cheeks. double chin. fucking obese! goddamn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-999984240626637301?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/999984240626637301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=999984240626637301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/999984240626637301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/999984240626637301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-to-bloody-effing-wake-up-fatty.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7002025106613125688</id><published>2010-07-19T22:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T22:47:29.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i trust many people in my life.. but as i grow older, i realised that there's nobody i can trust except for myself.. i wish u'd show a tiny bit of jealousy but u don't.. i cant be bothered to cry and beg for happiness.. all i want is, happiness within myself. nothing lasts forever. i don't even bother to picture how i'd be in the future.. but i know, ive suffered too much being in love and it's really tiring..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7002025106613125688?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7002025106613125688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7002025106613125688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7002025106613125688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7002025106613125688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-trust-many-people-in-my-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5190275494318395793</id><published>2010-07-18T00:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T00:31:10.222+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TEHadingAYI/AAAAAAAACXM/3NkvszAj--8/s1600/SDC12686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494913221412258178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TEHadingAYI/AAAAAAAACXM/3NkvszAj--8/s400/SDC12686.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that is why we called it, Happy&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt; 32 months&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;and &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;counting&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5190275494318395793?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5190275494318395793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5190275494318395793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5190275494318395793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5190275494318395793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-that-is-why-we-called-it-happy-32.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TEHadingAYI/AAAAAAAACXM/3NkvszAj--8/s72-c/SDC12686.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1562780448344841226</id><published>2010-07-14T01:21:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T01:45:12.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today, I've just deactivated my facebook account. I don't see the point of having facebook account because it makes me feel inferior. I used to have a boyfriend who did not even add me as his friend. I was his girlfriend, I didn't know he had a facebook account but he knew I had one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I've cleared my msn list. I don't see the point of going online anymore because there's no one for me to chat with. I used to have many friends, but i can't seem to remember where all of them have gone to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I've finally realised how much I've grown for the past 3 years. I've grown so much, fatter till to the extent of no guys would wanna look at me, not even one glance. I realised, the guy I've loved for the past 32 months has a huge interest in Kate Hudson and Kate Winslet. Too bad, it doesn't matter now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I come to realise, how important money is in our life. Love has been nothing, but pure bullshit. Men are full of lies. He looks terribly ugly with cigarrette, I shouldn't have looked at all of the pictures. If i was given a chance to turn back the time, I'd never fall for a loser like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I've made up my mind. There's no such thing as Love. Guys with money make girls happy. Guys without money make girls go crazy. Guys with no looks and no money, can make a girl like me wonder, why in the hell I suffered this long. I'll only go out with rich men from now onwards, especially those with their own cars, thick wallet full of cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I've promised to myself not to purge again. It was utterly paiful, I think I could have burst my stomach to pieces. I should start working out like how I used to be. I should start watching on my diets. I should start loving myself. Perhaps then, one day I'd be as hot as Kate Hudson. God bless me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm gonna stop pondering about the past. There's no point looking back. Falling in love is the huge mistake someone could ever make. However, falling in love with the wrong dude makes your life a great disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I end this entry, I'd like to Thank God for answering my prayer. I really hope, He would bless me in all of my future endeavours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1562780448344841226?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1562780448344841226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1562780448344841226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1562780448344841226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1562780448344841226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/today-ive-just-deactivated-my-facebook.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3155582977395620615</id><published>2010-07-09T01:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T01:09:34.397+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TDYGPSysMDI/AAAAAAAACXE/K9W28tyCU90/s1600/15032008039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491583655437152306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TDYGPSysMDI/AAAAAAAACXE/K9W28tyCU90/s400/15032008039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3155582977395620615?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3155582977395620615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3155582977395620615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3155582977395620615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3155582977395620615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TDYGPSysMDI/AAAAAAAACXE/K9W28tyCU90/s72-c/15032008039.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7622681062809589723</id><published>2010-07-04T22:27:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T22:34:25.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;"&gt;lately ive been having recurring dreams of the past, the most horrible thing about it is, i remember every single detail that i dream once i wake up from my sleep. sometimes, i dont feel like sleeping at all. it's as good as staying awake, my dreams feel real all the time, it makes me exhausted every morning when i wake up. the very moment when i lie down on the bed, i'd start thinking about all sort of stuff; my life, future, death, family.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490059238391812450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 308px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TDCbyiwyEWI/AAAAAAAACW8/DYKo74it5Lg/s400/img006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and i hate my hairstyle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7622681062809589723?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7622681062809589723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7622681062809589723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7622681062809589723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7622681062809589723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/07/lately-ive-been-having-recurring-dreams.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/TDCbyiwyEWI/AAAAAAAACW8/DYKo74it5Lg/s72-c/img006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8305261131515528959</id><published>2010-06-30T01:38:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T00:40:58.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;if i was given a chance, i'd stop myself from falling in love. i'd prohibit myself from being in love. the wrath of love. the agony of not knowing what's gonna happen in the future about your love life. what the fuck is love? i miss being infatuated. infatuation and lust are far better than mundane routine of love. i miss courtship days, i miss cuddling, i miss making out, i miss the feeling whereby the world seems to be spinning when your hands are all over me.. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but too bad, everything was just a dream. an excruciating bad dream. everyone with penis, they're the same. they're the ones who get bored bloody goddamn easily, they get too immune on you and good luck! welcome, have a real world of fucking life with man. they have forgotten how to pamper you, how to make you happy, how to satisfy you, how to make you smile, everything. until one day, when they're bloody fucking bored to the extreme, they'd dump you for another vagina. trust me. they are all the same. i'm not the only one who's experiencing this shit. every girl does. smart girls dump penis, not letting em'penis dump them. these smart girls are the girls who would spare a new penis beforehand.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hell, fuck shit. ohhh, and my boyfriend.. he makes out with me only once in every three months. if i'm lucky enough, it would be two months. pity pity me? no matter how much effort i put to lure him into kissing me, i'd lose. i wouldnt even bother about this fact if i don't have a boyfriend in the first place. i'd be perfectly fine without a guy, i wouldn't be looking forward to anything and i wouldn't be anticipating for something to happen. this proves one thing, ive grown fucking fat, my boyfriend doesnt seem to be attracted to me anymore, what's more kissing me with the tongue. LMAO. i'm gonna look for some fat guy now. yeah, now. hell fuck i was just kidding. i ain't no desperado. sometimes i feel sad for myself. i deserve better, after waiting so long, after being extremely nice, terribly understanding, yet, look what í've brought upon myself again. it's like Dejavu. i sounded like FLOWERGER! fucking hell holy cow. hahahahha. LOSER. complain, complain and more complaining.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i've been bloody effing stayin at home for almost 2 months now. fuck hell, no jobs for me. fucking shit all Laboratory jobs are looking for em' who would delightfully want to eat PORK. what? should i simply give in, and allow myself to eating PORK one day just because everywhere here needs to eat PORK before you can get a job? fucking shit. life is such a mistake. it would be sucha wonderful life to continue schooling rather than finding jobs but to no avail. i feel terribly depressed. i can die of boredom staying at home watching tv, sleeping, eating. oh shit. let me tell you a little secret, i've sent almost 50 resumes out for the past one month. guess whot? yeah, you guess it right. only 3 called; yerp, to reject me because: I AM A MUSLIM, and it would be such a hassle cos they would be PORK foods we're talking about. so much for "FOOD TECHNOLOGISTS are in great demand".. they should have told me earlier, something which is worth knowing, like for instance "Food technologists(with the ability to eat BABI) are in great demand".. That would have saved lots of trouble for us. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, enough of my rantings. i wanna play some games and make myself happy. i feel lonely. would you like to accompany me tonight? call me. someone, please surprise me, it's been a while since my adrenal gland functions. excite me, surprise me. with something pleasant. of course this is surprising, i can't remember when was the last time i typed this much. this is the long-winded siti fairuz. she hasn't lost touch of her forte, never. the lady who's superb at making a mountain out of a molehill. till then! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8305261131515528959?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8305261131515528959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8305261131515528959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8305261131515528959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8305261131515528959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-i-was-given-chance-id-stop-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2556962112640419897</id><published>2010-06-29T00:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T00:46:52.247+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well of course i change my mind.&lt;br /&gt;i need somebody to fulfill my undisclose desire. &lt;br /&gt;please me, let me be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2556962112640419897?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2556962112640419897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2556962112640419897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2556962112640419897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2556962112640419897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/well-of-course-i-change-my-mind.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2108731568643085088</id><published>2010-06-24T00:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T00:57:58.809+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;im still wondering, pondering..&lt;br /&gt;i wonder, how long i have to wait before it'd happen..&lt;br /&gt;i ponder, about the past, present and future; future..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;my one and only wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2108731568643085088?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2108731568643085088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2108731568643085088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2108731568643085088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2108731568643085088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-still-wondering-pondering.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1498386248283942707</id><published>2010-06-20T20:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T21:00:24.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes it feels like as if i'm hugging a tree trunk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1498386248283942707?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1498386248283942707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1498386248283942707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1498386248283942707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1498386248283942707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/sometimes-it-feels-like-as-if-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1879049393022107309</id><published>2010-06-19T23:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T23:35:01.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>starting from this very moment, i'd give up on seducing my boyfriend. cos i clearly realise that he's no longer interested in me. he'd never even make out with me anymore. siti fairuz is one pathetic shameless fat gigantic enormous effing turn-off girl. im fucking angry with myself for being shameless these past few days and getting turned down over and over again. i am utterly sad. im hurt. my pride is hurt. i want to die of embarrassment. I'm too busy making other people happy yet ive forgotten to make myself happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1879049393022107309?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1879049393022107309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1879049393022107309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1879049393022107309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1879049393022107309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/starting-from-this-very-moment-id-give.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1282778138655938622</id><published>2010-06-17T22:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T23:38:10.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>At times i wonder, what else have you lied to me, what else that i didn't know.. Honesty. Promises. Trust. Like what Beyonce said 'trust is like a mirror, it can be fixed when it's broken.' However, i have to agree with Gaga, 'yes, it can be fixed. But I can fucking see cracks in the reflection'.. once broken, it'd never be the same. Don't blame me for this, i wasn't the one who broke the mirror. I wish, you'd be honest with me, even if it's about your darkest secret. i love you so much baby, despite everything. happy 31 months being in love.. more months to come, i believe. &lt;strong&gt;the happiest week i have ever had. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1282778138655938622?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1282778138655938622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1282778138655938622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1282778138655938622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1282778138655938622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/at-times-i-wonder-what-else-have-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3285908787516358562</id><published>2010-06-15T00:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T00:14:03.997+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>even though it wasn't sincere enough, even though it wasn't on his own accord, it feels good to hear those words after so long..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3285908787516358562?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3285908787516358562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3285908787516358562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3285908787516358562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3285908787516358562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/even-though-it-wasnt-sincere-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2242967298333789031</id><published>2010-06-13T00:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T00:22:05.698+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I utterly loathe it whenever i hear that song. That song makes my heart skip a beat, goosebumps running wild on my skin.. I miss the feeling of falling in love.. or was it simply infatuation im talking about? I don't know.. I live my life for you, that's all crap..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2242967298333789031?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2242967298333789031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2242967298333789031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2242967298333789031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2242967298333789031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-utterly-loathe-it-whenever-i-hear.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4287357690147271337</id><published>2010-06-09T15:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T15:30:38.931+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i only have one wish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4287357690147271337?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4287357690147271337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4287357690147271337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4287357690147271337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4287357690147271337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-only-have-one-wish.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5867974542407723837</id><published>2010-06-09T00:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T01:03:02.655+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i miss... i miss his tender erotic touch, his hot irresistable kisses, his manly smell, his bulging gorgeous eyes, his seductive smiles, his lovely sweet voice whispering that three simple words to my ear.. i wonder.. does he miss me. does he even think about me..wake up okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5867974542407723837?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5867974542407723837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5867974542407723837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5867974542407723837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5867974542407723837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-miss.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8275119818068130435</id><published>2010-06-09T00:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T00:05:17.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8275119818068130435?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8275119818068130435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8275119818068130435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8275119818068130435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8275119818068130435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-wonder.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2939148914466891066</id><published>2010-06-08T18:12:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T19:25:45.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lies, Lies and more Lies.&lt;br /&gt;Bastard. Bloody Bastard.. &lt;br /&gt;U shud have thought about it real hard,&lt;br /&gt;Cos u're a bloody loser who can't commit.&lt;br /&gt;FUCKER. STUPID. LIAR. I believe someday, there would be a better guy, who would love me unconditionally and make me happy till the end of my time. God is fair. i believe in karma. for now, i'd just get myself even more depressed. not like as if he give a fuck abt it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2939148914466891066?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2939148914466891066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2939148914466891066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2939148914466891066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2939148914466891066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/lies-lies-and-more-lies.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5133277257406550515</id><published>2010-06-07T23:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T23:57:18.907+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>k lah u,i nak kencing. K lah u,i nak berak. K lah u,i nak makan. K lah u,i nak tdo. K lah u,i nak mandi. its not a bloody option,girl. It's an effing rude way to stop the conversation. Every single night, every single day. Control freak in disguise. Can't these guys come out with a better reason? Or honest one at the very least. K lah u,i nak pgi maen computer sbb u boring gila. Im utterly pissed off now. I'm a stupid girl who's always left with no choice. hello, i have vagina okay. All girls have the freedom to choose. But all i get is instruction. Ok come on, kiss me now. Don't rejct me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5133277257406550515?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5133277257406550515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5133277257406550515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5133277257406550515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5133277257406550515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/k-lah-ui-nak-kencing.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5424189464089640323</id><published>2010-06-07T21:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T21:36:01.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Jennifer Lopez is effing hot, i can get abrupt orgasm simply by watching her smoking hot dance moves. Damn ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5424189464089640323?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5424189464089640323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5424189464089640323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5424189464089640323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5424189464089640323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/jennifer-lopez-is-effing-hot-i-can-get.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5419939956423173638</id><published>2010-06-07T15:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T15:03:46.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5419939956423173638?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5419939956423173638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5419939956423173638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5419939956423173638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5419939956423173638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/06/little.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-489590301607952863</id><published>2010-05-30T14:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T14:23:56.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel so bad,everybody is at mum's booth giving moral support to her.but here i am,feeling helpless pathetic as ever crying a river.i cant sit there at the booth holding my tears back.why do you always have to lie to me.you promised you would make me happy.you promised you wouldnt ignore me anymor.look at you.i dont know why i love you.its not like as if you make me happy.u had nvr made me happy right from the start.im scared of hurting you and this is what i get.being hurt over and over again.he does not love you.he had never loved you,siti fairuz.he's lying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-489590301607952863?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/489590301607952863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=489590301607952863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/489590301607952863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/489590301607952863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-feel-so-badeverybody-is-at-mums-booth.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2101046013650487136</id><published>2010-05-30T04:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T01:32:24.472+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;he doesnt love you. he doesnt love you. he doesnt love you. he doesnt love you. he's lying. he's lying. he doesnt love you. he doesnt love you. he had never loved you. he had never loved you. he had never loved you. he had never missed you. he had never missed you. he had never think about you. he had never meant everything he promised to you. he's lying. he's lying. stop doing this to yourself. stop blaming yourself. stop hating yourself simply because you've fallen for sucha guy. i can't help it. i feel cheated. i feel terribly cheated. god damn it. stop humiliating yourself for god's sake. move on. move on. move on. you had never done this before, you did not spam his inbox, you did not go over to his place to beg him to stay, you did not force him to love you again, but why now? this is so stupid. ridiculously stupid. you've been stupified. he doesnt even think of you. he would never lose a wink of sleep even if you die. get a life. get a life. move on move on move on. the past was all bullshit. stop thinking about the past. stop thinking about that stupid song. he doesnt even remember. he doesnt even care. he doesnt even love you. let me sleep. let me sleep. let me sleep. i dont even know how to move on. i wasnt this pathetic. i wasnt this bad. i wasnt this ridiculous. i should have known better. they're all liars. it's not my fault. it has never been my fault. it's my luck, falling for the wrong guy over and over again. im tired. im really tired. he's having so much fun out there. he doesn't even care about you. he doesn't even care even if i cry till i die. you're nothing but a stupid worthless girl to him. shameless girl. who doesnt seem to get the fact right. who doesnt seem to understand that he doesnt like you anymore. he had never loved you. he had never looked for you. he had never bothered to meet you. he had never want to spend time with you. you're the stupid one. the idiotic one. the helpless one. who doesnt seem to stop loving an invisible man. imsad. imma really really really sad. i cant see myself falling in love again. i cant see myself being happily married to a guy who loves me. i cant see myself to be happy again. 4 years of friendship. 2 years 6 months of relationship. 2 years 6 months, of nothingness. im not afraid of being alone. im afraid to see you holding hand with other woman. im so stupid. im so stupid. im so stupid. im so stupid. im so stupid. i shouldnt have believed him. i shouldnt have trust his words. this is worse than my stupid first love. this is terribly worse. he lied to me. he lied to me. he lied to me. he lied to me. he lied to me. stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, stop being pathetic, stop being stupid, stop being difficult, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying. i feel so sick. i hope i die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-2101046013650487136?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2101046013650487136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2101046013650487136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2101046013650487136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2101046013650487136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/he-doesnt-love-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7825396678161110974</id><published>2010-05-30T00:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T00:31:53.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>he lied to you,fairuz.he fucking lied to you,yet again.he doesnt care abt you.get that shit into your thick head.don't cry,schmuck.he doesnt even think of you.he's having an effing blast time out there.you're just a stupid fat girl.nobody likes you.they hate you.too bad.of course you're stupid,cos u believe him.u fucking believe that he loves you.you're so wrong.pathetic.you're only an outsider to him.an outsider who is utterly stupid begging for him to stay,to love you.it's all lies.pure lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7825396678161110974?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7825396678161110974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7825396678161110974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7825396678161110974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7825396678161110974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/he-lied-to-youfairuz.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-898139943933069533</id><published>2010-05-28T01:31:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:53:29.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;it's too bad he doesn't feel the same way like you do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;but it's not your fault. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;he's the one who changes mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Some things happen and we don't understand why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Some things happen and we can't help it but to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But when you feel you can't put up with it any longer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Just hold on...Because believe that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-898139943933069533?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/898139943933069533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=898139943933069533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/898139943933069533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/898139943933069533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-too-bad-he-doesnt-feel-same-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7948297509706427502</id><published>2010-05-25T19:07:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T19:19:57.772+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;i remember i read somewhere, whereby the theory says that a guy would be able to generate this hormone only for about two years - this hormone of excitement when he's with a girl. basically this hormone would make him feel excited, aroused, attached, loved with this girl but only for about 2 years. of course he would still be able to generate this hormone, with an exception - new girlfriend. pathetic. no, of course not testosterone i am talking about.  in retrospect, unless we shower them with lots of money, lots of gifts, lots of fucking, they might consider sticking around with you. another pathetic. they simply get bored, don't they? all of a sudden, they change their mind. it's not because you're boring, fat, rude, obnoxious, quarrelsome, stupid, blockhead, schmuck, irritating, big mouth, smelly mouth, girl. apparently, it's a fact. they just stop wanting you. yes, we need them but they want us. want and need. two different words, which carry two different meaning. vast difference. let's ponder. if you're 2 months old with your boyfriend, try this, shout and scream at him in front of everybody, he wouldnt say anything. and now, speaking of facts, if you're 2 years old with your boyfriend, try raising your voice at him. guess what? the next minute he wants a break-up! check it out! cool facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;enough about bullshit. no matter how much i rant, it wouldn't come back. anyway, life has been pretty less than ordinary. it's rather dry, my life. not wet. hahaha. okay, my ownself joke. finding a suitable job for myself is kind of exhausting. the truth is, nobody replied. which makes my job hunting feels utter futile. but being me, i believe in 'slowly but surely'.. of course i don't even feel a bit twinge of regret about quitting B*tta-life; for i'd rather rot to death at home than slaving my way of being a dog in that place - so much for a better life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;to cheer myself up, cos that's what i've been doing lately, let me mention some little happy stories about my life. i entertain myself. i make myself happy. i spend my time wisely by sleeping as much as possible just to pamper myself like how i used to. sometimes i even hug myself. laugh for me. yes thank you. i don't binge on junk food. i don't indulge in purging myself forcefully, not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;i've never done this, but i'm gonna try it. what am i trying to get to? okay. this is the gist of it. having a diploma does not assure you a bright future. trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv9XW7ZzI/AAAAAAAACWU/CuWyyfYw7JM/s1600/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv9XW7ZzI/AAAAAAAACWU/CuWyyfYw7JM/s400/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475163240776034098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv84tQRYI/AAAAAAAACWM/urh2KhkREKo/s1600/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv84tQRYI/AAAAAAAACWM/urh2KhkREKo/s400/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475163232548177282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv8uwRMqI/AAAAAAAACWE/kGrqoFvTj1s/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv8uwRMqI/AAAAAAAACWE/kGrqoFvTj1s/s400/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475163229876466338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;well, frankly speaking, i was trying to brag but i cant bring myself to do it. and i've asked my mum whether i could change my name. hahahahah. yes yes, i do! i ultimately loathe it when people call me siti fairuz. siti. fairuz. it sounds terribly wrong. very wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7948297509706427502?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7948297509706427502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7948297509706427502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7948297509706427502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7948297509706427502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-remember-i-read-somewhere-whereby_4938.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_uv9XW7ZzI/AAAAAAAACWU/CuWyyfYw7JM/s72-c/4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4281364034810026988</id><published>2010-05-23T23:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T23:36:05.398+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everything feels terribly different. it seems weird when there's an obvious barrier building up between us. when there's secrets, no openness, more lies, no sincerity; utter heartbreaking.. my wits' end.. now then i know how it feels to salvage something that is beyond repair, unreturn empty love.. i don't understand myself either..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4281364034810026988?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4281364034810026988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4281364034810026988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4281364034810026988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4281364034810026988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/everything-feels-terribly-different.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4338614516558096461</id><published>2010-05-23T15:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T15:57:38.471+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sunny beautiful sunday afternoon, king size bed, lying all over the bed, dozens of fluffy pillow, maximum speed of wind, thick comforter, a bar of toblerone with a glass full of HL milk and breaking dawn. I wish u're here next to me. That would make it sounds utterly perfect. It was just a dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4338614516558096461?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4338614516558096461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4338614516558096461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4338614516558096461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4338614516558096461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/sunny-beautiful-sunday-afternoon-king.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1036787315344734849</id><published>2010-05-21T12:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T12:32:12.352+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;To the extent that we love others, we will be loved. To the extent that we work for others' happiness, we will enjoy protection and support. This is the law of cause and effect. To be understood and appreciated for oneself is a vital experience in life. Material wealth does not necessarily make for happiness. Nor does fame. Hope is life's greatest treasure. A life without hope is bleak and gray. But hope doesnt come without effort. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1036787315344734849?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1036787315344734849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1036787315344734849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1036787315344734849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1036787315344734849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/to-extent-that-we-love-others-we-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8877287794412334792</id><published>2010-05-21T08:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T20:58:15.764+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like ‘maybe we should just be friends’ or ‘maybe we would be together again in the future’ or ‘how very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8877287794412334792?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8877287794412334792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8877287794412334792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8877287794412334792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8877287794412334792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/have-you-ever-been-in-love-horrible.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3079460572916433829</id><published>2010-05-17T14:48:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T20:16:02.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as much as i want to celebrate this special day, God has another plan for me. i loathe it when my hp calender shows 17th of the month. let alone 17th november. i used to feel excited abt my birthday but not anymore now. it reminds me of how foolish i was, to think that a guy could love me till my last breath. frankly, i'm just a nobody in his life. perhaps this incident happened for a reason. God wanted to prove to me how littlest i meant to him, how minute i am in his life. now, i've seen it for myself. everybody will have their fair share of regrets to live with. i've done mountain of mistakes in my life; the fact that i have to live with - my humongous &lt;strong&gt;mistake&lt;/strong&gt; happened because of you. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_EzcPBr0sI/AAAAAAAACVE/5BO2DGq4g_s/s1600/jZjZjh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_EzcPBr0sI/AAAAAAAACVE/5BO2DGq4g_s/s400/jZjZjh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472211582394815170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3079460572916433829?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3079460572916433829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3079460572916433829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3079460572916433829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3079460572916433829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-much-as-i-want-to-celebrate-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S_EzcPBr0sI/AAAAAAAACVE/5BO2DGq4g_s/s72-c/jZjZjh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1141153369779712118</id><published>2010-05-15T05:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T05:14:27.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm positively certain that that day will come, much sooner or later, but for sure. i dread for the day. i'm scared. apparently, everybody knows, planning is simply utter bollocks. one day, you'll know, how it feels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1141153369779712118?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1141153369779712118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1141153369779712118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1141153369779712118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1141153369779712118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-positively-certain-that-that-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6910253990920672950</id><published>2010-05-13T05:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T05:36:03.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as much as i want to sleep, my ears are set to full attention. i keep tuning my ears to the sound of my hp, hoping somebody'd ring me. funny isn't it, i place my hp nxt to my ear and not like usual nights, it's not in silent mode. get a life, siti fairuz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6910253990920672950?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6910253990920672950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6910253990920672950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6910253990920672950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6910253990920672950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-much-as-i-want-to-sleep-my-ears-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6755389984688438459</id><published>2010-05-12T17:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T17:28:37.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>100th of time, proves just one thing..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6755389984688438459?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6755389984688438459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6755389984688438459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6755389984688438459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6755389984688438459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/100th-of-time-proves-just-one-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5007827668459425284</id><published>2010-05-12T14:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T14:56:29.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5007827668459425284?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5007827668459425284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5007827668459425284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5007827668459425284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5007827668459425284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/lack.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6636735202776402451</id><published>2010-05-11T17:06:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T17:24:16.275+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>two hours past by like the speed of lightning, i kept convincing myself that i was asleep. but no, i couldnt even get to the tip of sleeping, i kept digesting all the words that had been spat out of his sweet mouth. the lovely thin lips, that makes me wanting to kiss and touch all the time. not anymore. i don't blame him, i don't blame myself either. weird, i wasn't tearing cos i know better than anyone out there, it won't affect any single bit of his neuron even if i die one day. to die for him, it's out of the question. it comes naturally, out of blue, all these words formed in my mind; just say i'd dedicate this little rhyme to my second ex-boyfriend. it's over now, officially. glad with it, i hope yoú'd find a better girlfriend who doesn't shout at you, like i do. God bless you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look for me when you're lonely,&lt;br /&gt;Dump me when you've found your company.&lt;br /&gt;Promise that you'll marry me,&lt;br /&gt;Leave me when you're no longer horny.&lt;br /&gt;Just pretend that you love me,&lt;br /&gt;Ignore me when I've fallen for you deeply.&lt;br /&gt;Sculpture your body,&lt;br /&gt;Make yourself pretty,&lt;br /&gt;Don't you ever worry, &lt;br /&gt;Cos you're always lucky.&lt;br /&gt;Stay with me when i have the money,&lt;br /&gt;Let me go when you're bored of me.&lt;br /&gt;Were you lying all the time,&lt;br /&gt;Was it just a game to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6636735202776402451?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6636735202776402451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6636735202776402451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6636735202776402451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6636735202776402451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/two-hours-past-by-like-speed-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8253610977785035500</id><published>2010-05-11T01:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T01:28:08.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yesterday afternoon, when you're out with your mum, i took out that box which contains all the sweet old memories. i read it thoroughly without missing any single word. it was beautiful. i smiled to myself. yes, it was all written on pieces of papers.. i should have known better, all those papers mean nothing to them penis, it was simply a way to make girls fall for them deeply.&lt;br&gt; i know i'm rude, i know my temper hasnt gotten the best of me, but ive nvr lied a second into loving you. when ure sick, it worries me. when ure away, i miss u sick.. when u ignore me, i cant even have a blink of sleep. i shud have moved on when u dumped me. silly siti fairuz, why she had to call and beg him to pick up that phone. little did i realise that i've made a fool of myself. &lt;br&gt;ever since i met u, everything seems utterly wrong. bad lucks all the time. i've even lost my focus in life.. this is worse than first love. cos this isn't just about love, it's more than love. i wish u had given me a chance to explain why i'm having difficulty to trust u. but no, put all the blames on me.&lt;br&gt;i wish i have million of dollars, and then i could spend the money on u, and make u love me like u mean it. i have nothing now. nothing to salvage. i've grown fatter each day, i don't have that beautiful face, i dun even turn u on anymore. im just a failure in love. a love that i've put in so much effort.&lt;br&gt; i don't give an eff to whom's reading my blog. even if the whole world knows. guess what? after all, im siti fairuz. the rude despicable insolent girl with an ego greater than a man's. right now, i feel ultimately stupid. trying to lose weight to make you look at me with awe. it's like im having dejavu. i brought this upon myself. i wish i had nothing to lose, but it's all too late. i don't even fucking understand myself, why do i put myself in such a way that would hurt me. numbskull to even plan for 30th month when it doesnt even actually exist. moron. i know you hate this picture, i hate it too. if it wasnt for that night, i wouldnt have to go through all this bollocks phase of life. i wonder how some girls have the courage to stick around two men at one time and dump the other moron when he seems to be unable to satisfy her needs. or even that guy who walk away without turning back eventhough that vagina is crying the hell out of herself for him to stay.. sleep, u never know when u'd ever wake up again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/ahmad%20fairuz/17nov07/?action=view&amp;current=17112007039-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/ahmad%20fairuz/17nov07/17112007039-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; what love? it doesnt even exist. i have no one except for myself to count on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8253610977785035500?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8253610977785035500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8253610977785035500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8253610977785035500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8253610977785035500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/ytd-afternoon-i-took-out-that-box-which.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6388966121176433164</id><published>2010-05-09T19:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T19:31:41.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALLY</title><content type='html'>It pays to be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday.T.G.I.S.Thank god its Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chilli was surprisingly hot.Ice comes with a price of 60 cents.2 plates of rice forced down the throat.Money well spent I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost in a sea of unknown faces,babbling in their own little conversations.Ahmad and Siti tried with all their might trying to make sense of the changed surroundings.6 months.That was how long it took for us to feel complete strangers in a place that we frequently held our ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A story about a history-changing quartet.Well,things were the same fortunately.Everything seems to look in place.The Cathay.Our movie hub.The only place that we will spend money for a big screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slippers slamming the floor.He looked up and saw a human being sprinting, trying to get hold of the moving cubicle that transport humans from a floor to another.The determination in that human being eyes says it all.He wasn't gonna miss it.Not now.Not never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see,exaggeration makes wonders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahmad Fairuz loves Siti Fairuz.Vice Versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne Rooney is Siti Fairuz's favourite soccer player.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6388966121176433164?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6388966121176433164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6388966121176433164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6388966121176433164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6388966121176433164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/05/finally.html' title='FINALLY'/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6648344591971457030</id><published>2010-04-29T23:54:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T00:09:39.624+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>every night i feel utterly lonely.. i want so much to fall asleep without tearing.. at times, i want to be like you, never take things seriously.. i tried, but to no avail. i believe in others rather than myself.. im still waiting.. waiting with uncertainty.. naive.. gullible.. blockhead.. i miss having that feeling.. feeling excited, anxious, deeply madly in lust. ive been waiting way too long.. and it makes me worn-out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6648344591971457030?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6648344591971457030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6648344591971457030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6648344591971457030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6648344591971457030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/04/every-night-i-feel-utterly-lonely.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5255550976418913874</id><published>2010-04-25T01:24:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T01:35:48.881+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>why do we fall in love when we clearly know that the love would eventually fade away someday. why do we fall in love when we know that love doesnt last forever. why do we still want to be in love, even though love hurts you every second as the time passes by.. Funny isnt it, the word 'if' often appears in my mind, what with 'if i could turn back the time, i wouldnt hav done this and that..' i always make wrong choices in life..i should have known better. i miss you so much. i really do..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5255550976418913874?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5255550976418913874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5255550976418913874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5255550976418913874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5255550976418913874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-do-we-fall-in-love-when-we-clearly.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5385463293874167428</id><published>2010-02-19T15:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T15:46:58.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The ultimate test of love is not how much one showers affection on one's partner, but rather the actions and sacrifices that one makes in order make the relationship work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s: i've wasted one week doing nothing fruitful. thinking that its a way to recover back my worn-out brain cells. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5385463293874167428?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5385463293874167428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5385463293874167428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5385463293874167428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5385463293874167428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/02/ultimate-test-of-love-is-not-how-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4580399405684235843</id><published>2010-02-13T22:38:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T23:20:47.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so, the day that ive not been looking forward to have finally arrived. he left singapore this morning for Jakarta. Yeah, that calls for stay-at-home-valentines-day for me. not like as if i care or bother though. its not much of a big deal to celebrate this day just that, it would be nice to spend the day with your loved one when everybody else is doing it too. you know what i'm saying, do you? i have this strong feeling his having an effing fun time there. duh, not surprising. im not sure how to feel right now. i think im kind of used to staying at home. i don't feel like going out with whoever, i simply feel that it's perfectly fine to stay at home all alone. anyway, i need some time to destress myself. ive been rather stressed out for the past few days, what with the final year presentation, food operation management semestral test, food quality safety semestral test and assignment, job interview. now, there's three more burdens to get over with. let's say im just giving myself some time of my own for these 3 days. 3 days that much? i love lolling around, keeping my mind free from any distraction, reading book, watching FRIENDS!, yesss. friends! i will never ever get bored with FRIENDS! im pretty sure tomorrow i wont get much of a sleep. lion dance early in the morning, confirm plus chop. ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;therefore, to make it up for his disapperance for 4 days. he had prepared the main course for our lovely picnic advance valentines treat. it was awesome fun. nothing beats getting a stalk of rose and exchanging of handmade love cards. of course it doesnt come without asking. i had to ask for the rose and card. huhuhu. siti fairuz, the plain kental girl who's still living in the year of 1921, love letters fetish. sometimes i think that i'm weird as compared to other normal women. yes, im training myself not to label myself under the category of GIRLS. WOMEN instead. stepping stone of being a carreer woman you see. in which reminds me of WHAT AM I GONNA DO once i graduate from SP in 3 weeks time. i smell side-tracking. back to why weird? look around, those WOMEN get chanel necklace, tiffany n co ring, burberry perfume, coach bags tatatata and they'd be over the moon with all those gifts. but look at me, a handmade card with a stalk of rose can make my day! cheap taste woman, perhaps. okay watever. i should highlight the taste of the fish n chips. he fried fish n chips for me, his maiden attempt of frying fish fillet. i could imagine how scared he was, the look on his face while frying the fillet. oil splashing, hahahah. it wasnt that bad. purely edible. needless to say, of course i was touched. its been awhile. hehehe. to wrap up our lovely date, we went to the exact place of our very first kiss. i could fill a bubble of happiness in the pit of my stomach, everything flashing back all over again. i was utterly speechless, how fast time flies, we've gone so far together despite all the ultimate unnecessary quarrels. im missing you, ahmad fairuz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-bTEeceI/AAAAAAAACUE/eSzMGkQXw30/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-bTEeceI/AAAAAAAACUE/eSzMGkQXw30/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437742976281244130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-a1oShlI/AAAAAAAACT8/iUAAZrSYtMI/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-a1oShlI/AAAAAAAACT8/iUAAZrSYtMI/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437742968378394194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-kZN4JFI/AAAAAAAACUs/JAS11UDHSb8/s1600-h/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-kZN4JFI/AAAAAAAACUs/JAS11UDHSb8/s400/7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437743132550112338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-j0hcYsI/AAAAAAAACUk/U6Kat3Gmz_E/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-j0hcYsI/AAAAAAAACUk/U6Kat3Gmz_E/s400/6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437743122700067522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-c4nK1uI/AAAAAAAACUc/zdp4aVLnDxs/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-c4nK1uI/AAAAAAAACUc/zdp4aVLnDxs/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437743003538740962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-cgzvcaI/AAAAAAAACUU/HCStHIUGiHM/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-cgzvcaI/AAAAAAAACUU/HCStHIUGiHM/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437742997149020578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-cMuBxSI/AAAAAAAACUM/unpZNuDXHTQ/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-cMuBxSI/AAAAAAAACUM/unpZNuDXHTQ/s400/3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437742991756346658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4580399405684235843?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4580399405684235843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4580399405684235843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4580399405684235843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4580399405684235843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-day-that-ive-not-been-looking.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S3a-bTEeceI/AAAAAAAACUE/eSzMGkQXw30/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7635520695689224974</id><published>2010-02-04T13:44:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T14:08:41.194+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel like as if one burden is finally off my shoulder. there's still one more burden left down here, my final year examination; which will determine my graduation. yesterday Final Year Project presentation wasn't that bad as i thought. it was a great experience, havin to present in front of the big shots feeling as confident as ever. i thought that wasn't me. im not asking for anythin much. but i hope my hardwork will be paid off handsomely. i've been wasting my life away readin books not revising schoolwork. for good god's sake fairuz, examination is in a week time. come on. one final last shot. stop procrastinating! hmm, nah. gotta continue reading this book first.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phMPI5VwI/AAAAAAAACT0/8O6jkNBD0-8/s1600-h/jjk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phMPI5VwI/AAAAAAAACT0/8O6jkNBD0-8/s400/jjk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434262763226093314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phLiKtUEI/AAAAAAAACTs/qjPEfVoTDpQ/s1600-h/jjhjh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phLiKtUEI/AAAAAAAACTs/qjPEfVoTDpQ/s400/jjhjh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434262751154098242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and to end this entry, i would like to express a little of doubt here. i don't know how im gonna have the strength to stay at home on Valentine's day when my sis and bro would definitely go out celebrating their gifted love with their other better half. something is in the way. quotëd from someone "men are like rubber band, let it loose" ..or better still, let it go. bollocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phLVY1AkI/AAAAAAAACTk/2_YhYBS99Jg/s1600-h/hmkl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phLVY1AkI/AAAAAAAACTk/2_YhYBS99Jg/s400/hmkl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434262747723661890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope i'll be stronger than yesterday. yerp. goodbye for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7635520695689224974?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7635520695689224974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7635520695689224974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7635520695689224974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7635520695689224974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-feel-like-as-if-one-burden-is-finally.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/S2phMPI5VwI/AAAAAAAACT0/8O6jkNBD0-8/s72-c/jjk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8730502079803496137</id><published>2010-01-26T18:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T19:04:48.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>for the past few years, i havent been contemplating about how lucky i am now. i have been vaguely wasting my time dwelling on the past and counting on how unlucky to chance upon bad love all the time. little did i realise that, God has actually rewarded me with countless of blessings all along. when i was young, my parents fed me sumptuous foods and made me grow fat. i thank God for giving me such wonderful parents in my life. ive just realised, God actually loves me. He knows what's good and what's bad for me. i still remember the day when God turned me back to the right path. that very day changed my whole life. since then, i always blame no one but myself. i've learnt life all in the bad way. ive been rather way too busy pointing out on the flaws of my life thus i failed to see the blessings God has given me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8730502079803496137?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8730502079803496137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8730502079803496137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8730502079803496137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8730502079803496137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-past-few-years-i-havent-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8167315706964051886</id><published>2010-01-10T16:07:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T16:46:37.772+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>woot. it's 10th of January, what year what year? 2010! okay, that's so cliche. i've grown fat fatter fattest over the years. one two three years altogether. i'm getting lazier each day looking forward to nothing but sleeping. new year celebration was disastrous. i was hoping to watch the firework alas all hail plankton, nothing of such happened. no firework, the very first day that marked 2010, i was welcomed with utter unhappiness. what a way to start the first day of a new year. put it aside, no resolutions made this year. all talk no action, tired of it! i've promised to myself i wouldnt cry so much again, BUT, i failed miserably to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;i'm watching mtv muse live concert. they're coming to perform in Singapore in february. a glimpse of hope? a bubble of excitement in the pit of my bulging stomach? no? yes? they're the best band, after nirvana of course. 2 days ago we celebrated Abang's birthday. it was kind of surprised mini birthday party for that big BOY. the real best part of the celebration was, SABO! of course i was the mastermind. nevermind about that cos big BOY thought that his gf was behind all of this. some things are better to be left unsaid. it was fun. nading and me fell down while laughing our ass off. not forgetting about the addition of belacan penang and soya sauce into that bottle of coke which nobody knew except myself and the other evil one(he-who-must-not-be-named).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8167315706964051886?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8167315706964051886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8167315706964051886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8167315706964051886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8167315706964051886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2010/01/woot.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1012323971373779637</id><published>2009-12-30T01:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T01:15:07.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo5Evz7smI/AAAAAAAACTc/PvG_LNUKbR0/s1600-h/haiz3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo5Evz7smI/AAAAAAAACTc/PvG_LNUKbR0/s400/haiz3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420707855210361442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo5EO97KlI/AAAAAAAACTU/xAbX_-a702E/s1600-h/haiz2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo5EO97KlI/AAAAAAAACTU/xAbX_-a702E/s400/haiz2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420707846393899602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo4JW5mrgI/AAAAAAAACTM/_1tToLTiyoA/s1600-h/haiz.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo4JW5mrgI/AAAAAAAACTM/_1tToLTiyoA/s400/haiz.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420706834910981634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1012323971373779637?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1012323971373779637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1012323971373779637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1012323971373779637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1012323971373779637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Szo5Evz7smI/AAAAAAAACTc/PvG_LNUKbR0/s72-c/haiz3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4354958599302491703</id><published>2009-12-27T02:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T03:10:02.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;you dont know how much i need you&lt;br /&gt;cant believe ive found a love that is pure and true&lt;br /&gt;but it was all bullshit&lt;br /&gt;it was a goddamn joke&lt;br /&gt;i hope you die that you've done to me&lt;br /&gt;i lay in bed all day long&lt;br /&gt;you left me here all alone tears running down constantly&lt;br /&gt;somebody kill me pls&lt;br /&gt;pretty pretty pls&lt;br /&gt;i want to die&lt;br /&gt;put a bullet in my headddddddddd..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ouh well, i was trying to type out the lyric of adam sandler's song. but i guess i missed some of the lines. he's the best actor ever. i love watching him acting. he's weird in a funny way. odd yet hollywood spectacular! it's 3 o clock in the morning. im all alone in the living room watching wedding singer. sucha romantic movie. i should stop watching all these kind of craps man. it poisons my mind. and quote of the day, nobody is good for me. perhaps it's true. thank you for telling. i'll remember that forever. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apart from that, i realised that i have a weird taste. as in, i dont fancy smoking hot dude with what 8 packs jacob shit. but kurt cobain, slash, adam sandler.. damn, i wish i could do foursome with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZem7HU34I/AAAAAAAACS0/3Xr8HSbm9xA/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZem7HU34I/AAAAAAAACS0/3Xr8HSbm9xA/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623224383430530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZe_tlQG2I/AAAAAAAACS8/BZrCddXgohU/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZe_tlQG2I/AAAAAAAACS8/BZrCddXgohU/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623650247580514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZfRv7wbfI/AAAAAAAACTE/78ixthJ84BQ/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZfRv7wbfI/AAAAAAAACTE/78ixthJ84BQ/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623960116489714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only kurt cobain is still alive though. hehehehahah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4354958599302491703?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4354958599302491703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4354958599302491703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4354958599302491703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4354958599302491703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-dont-know-how-much-i-need-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzZem7HU34I/AAAAAAAACS0/3Xr8HSbm9xA/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-942563000128043709</id><published>2009-12-24T22:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T22:50:32.909+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel like blogging, but im not sure what to blog about. i had pretty fun day but im having the normal bad nights as usual. ive been having acute headaches for almost a week. something is not right about me. i feel so sick now. my neck. my back. my head. my brain. im tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think ive found the very best way to destress myself. thats the slide! jurong east swimming complex slide is the best. see you in hell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-942563000128043709?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/942563000128043709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=942563000128043709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/942563000128043709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/942563000128043709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-feel-like-blogging-but-im-not-sure.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4303027482480029174</id><published>2009-12-22T14:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T15:03:12.210+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBvAeY4DkI/AAAAAAAACSs/726CG3TFT8c/s1600-h/SDC11443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBvAeY4DkI/AAAAAAAACSs/726CG3TFT8c/s400/SDC11443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417952405674790466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBu_0DWHuI/AAAAAAAACSk/J1WQxp6tM7c/s1600-h/SDC11450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBu_0DWHuI/AAAAAAAACSk/J1WQxp6tM7c/s400/SDC11450.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417952394310196962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBuAk9J7ZI/AAAAAAAACSc/I-VXEG48N2w/s1600-h/SDC11431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBuAk9J7ZI/AAAAAAAACSc/I-VXEG48N2w/s400/SDC11431.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417951307925941650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBt_3vFBAI/AAAAAAAACSU/5jSYVinfxwA/s1600-h/SDC11389.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBt_3vFBAI/AAAAAAAACSU/5jSYVinfxwA/s400/SDC11389.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417951295787303938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4303027482480029174?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4303027482480029174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4303027482480029174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4303027482480029174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4303027482480029174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SzBvAeY4DkI/AAAAAAAACSs/726CG3TFT8c/s72-c/SDC11443.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6638821573963835475</id><published>2009-12-14T21:28:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T21:39:22.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i was sleeping peacefully, i didnt even hear the phone was ringing when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, there was a loud thud. good god. it was nenek who opened the door violently, waking me up saying that there was a phone call for me. wahlaoweehh. ive told her trillion of times, never wake me up when i am sleeping! anyway, when i picked up the phone, there was nobody on the line. then, that adds another wth. few minutes later i received a surprised message from zz. 'LETS GO INDIA!'... how's that man? you're half awake and greeted by that kind of words? hahahaha. Thank GOD! we were chosen to present our research in India. to be precise, Hyderabad. now tell me, how am i gonna convince my mum so that she'll let me go there? fat hope! fat hope fat hope! this is such a great opportunity. my dear darlings must be utterly excited now. especially zz huh. she was floating in the air, ecstacy! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415085200977910242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SyY_TMjDWeI/AAAAAAAACR8/LamTkkA31jE/s400/IMG_0070.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;brighter side of life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;ive just won the ouh ya beh yah som. if you understand whats that. i dont have to go down and carry all the stuff mum bought from sheng siong. lucky me, dont hav to change my shorts. hahaha. thank you kin and nadi. huhuhuhu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6638821573963835475?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6638821573963835475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6638821573963835475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6638821573963835475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6638821573963835475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-was-sleeping-peacefully-i-didnt-even.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SyY_TMjDWeI/AAAAAAAACR8/LamTkkA31jE/s72-c/IMG_0070.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-8816140016453627892</id><published>2009-12-14T16:43:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T17:07:26.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;something major happened yesterday. wasnt a good one, but it has taught me real good. i've realised the truth; people who stand by your side during your hard times are the best people who you should look up to, the ones you ought to appreciate under any circumstances. not those people who stick to you only when you're having a fun time in life, those people are the ones who gonna steal your happiness. don't be too happy for now, cos happiness doesnt last that long. close your eyes, think for once, who was the one who stood by your side despite all the darkness in your life? you may have forgotten. but God doesnt forget. he will make you remember again, some day. i know how it feels when people don't appreciate you. when they take you for granted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;i admit up until this point of time, my temper still hasnt gotten the better of me. but i've improved, if you a spare a minute to realise abt the changes. ive said sorry whenever i made mistakes, ive controlled my anger and not shout like a hooligan despite the fact your whole body stinks by the smell of effing cigarettes, ive stopped calling you stupid. but there's no point isnt it? when you're trying but that one person simply keeps on thinking you're obnoxious rude girl. it must have been hard on you, to live with regrets. regret for giving me the second chance. bearing grudges against someone wouldnt make your life peaceful. you wouldnt find happiness. i should have known better. 6 months of endless effort trying to make things right, and finally ive found out the truth. you're still bearing grudges against me. it will make you satisfied only if you revenge it back on me. revenge. thats the word. grudges, revenge, unhappiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;i'm sorry for i made you give me that second chance. i've tried really hard. i'm getting tired. God is great, he will make you realise one day. everything in life happens for a reason. í know i'm rude, but i had never wanted to revenge on others just because they have made me suffer. maybe now you're blinded with hatreds on me, one fine day when you're no longer blinded, may God open up your heart, your eyes, your mind that i care and love you so much. I had never regret falling in love with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;life is too short to bear grudges against someone.. today you might be plotting some plans to make her suffer. but you wouldnt know, maybe tomorrow she's no longer around anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-8816140016453627892?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/8816140016453627892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=8816140016453627892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8816140016453627892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/8816140016453627892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/something-major-happened-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5733530517483040019</id><published>2009-12-09T17:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:18:01.068+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sx9q0p-k8FI/AAAAAAAACRw/FjjayzArUlE/s1600-h/SDC11216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413162729976688722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sx9q0p-k8FI/AAAAAAAACRw/FjjayzArUlE/s400/SDC11216.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MST HAS BEEN SUCHA BITCH.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THIS IS THE LONGEST WEEK I'VE EVER FELT.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GODDAMIT. I SO CANT WAIT FOR THIS TO END.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IM GETTING MORE EMOTIONAL EACH DAY.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GGEEET A LIFE, I KNOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;AND I'M GETTING UGLIER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;I'M GETTING FUCKSHIT MISERABLE..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;TYPICAL TEENAGERS'ANGST?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;NOT SURE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;MUMMY'S NEXT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5733530517483040019?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5733530517483040019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5733530517483040019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5733530517483040019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5733530517483040019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/12/mst-has-been-sucha-bitch.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sx9q0p-k8FI/AAAAAAAACRw/FjjayzArUlE/s72-c/SDC11216.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5506373433311259071</id><published>2009-11-26T14:18:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T15:33:04.892+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;look at the calender and guess what? it's already week 6! one more week to bloody effing mortifying MST! surprisingly yesterday i attended the graduation party. absolute malarkey. utimately bollocks! pure waste of time. it's hard for me to comprehend why the malays indulge themselves in all these loud stupid heavy rock music. they're nowhere near my late ex-boyfriend's, nirvana. the lead singer's voice was so turned off and the music sucks! as for me, i'd rather indulge myself with idle daydreams. why oh why. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;less than 100 days to being a diploma-holder. hehehe. what's the matter? it's only a diploma. not like as if PhD eh. i can imagine myself being the food technologist, full of boredom, analysis and evaluate different kind of foods. getting paid, having money. money. the major issue in everybody's life. when you don't have money, there's so much things you can't do. you can't watch movie, you can't buy ciggies, you can't travel by bus or mrt, you can't shop. in short, everything in life needs money. even when you're in hospital, eh hello, the intensive care given by the nurses ísnt free okay. however, there's one thing money can't buy; true love. it comes once in a lifetime. just once, trust me. it won't last lah. be realistic, like what he always says, life is too short to feel sad all the time. no point dwelling on the past, racking up and bitching about the effing miserable stuff. complain complain complain! every problem has different side of stories. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;when you've put in a lot of effort in something, of course you want to see a positive result. let's say you'd been mugging like a mad cow for your O level exam, yet you flunk it. you'd question yourself, where did i go wrong? and so, you'd blame yourself. nobody else except yourself. you'd cry every effing night thinking how unlucky you were. you'd lose your everlasting happiness, you'd cry and cry and cry yourself to sleep like as if crying'd mend your broken heart. in a nutshell, every situation applies this theory. when it doesn't happen to you, you wouldn't realise it. but one fine day, karma happens, it will definitely happen to you. maybe not now. take one minute of your time my friend, just one minute, and think back about all the good shits someone had done for you. learn to appreciate. never ever promise someone. cos you know yourself too well that you'd never keep your words. everybody's changing, remember? some change to be better some change to be an asshole. oh, im sucha pain, try to salvage. what's the root of the problem? you or me or them or God? you wouldnt blame yourself for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;i have bitched enough. hahaha. i don't have much money though. too bad siti fairuz too bad, you cant do anything then. after all, im just a human being with vagina. we're sensitive species. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330033;"&gt;i've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5506373433311259071?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5506373433311259071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5506373433311259071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5506373433311259071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5506373433311259071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/11/look-at-calender-and-guess-what-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-765819726794667258</id><published>2009-11-16T19:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T19:15:18.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i woke up this morning, feeling all empty.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i certainly feel something is missing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-765819726794667258?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/765819726794667258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=765819726794667258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/765819726794667258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/765819726794667258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-woke-up-this-morning-feeling-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3033067882985353705</id><published>2009-11-12T01:14:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T01:17:12.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;if i had known that we're still too young for this kind of thing,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i wouldn't even bother to accept it in the first place. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;come on, you initiated it, you have to bear with it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but hey, guess what? people change. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;blame me for everything.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;so much thing, so little time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;ultimate tension.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;stressed-out, bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;5 more days. doubt it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3033067882985353705?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3033067882985353705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3033067882985353705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3033067882985353705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3033067882985353705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-i-had-known-that-were-still-too.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-2659181997209209898</id><published>2009-11-06T22:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T23:04:42.828+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SvQ5ISnQnfI/AAAAAAAACRg/aO6p0KYtctM/s1600-h/okay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401004667722309106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SvQ5ISnQnfI/AAAAAAAACRg/aO6p0KYtctM/s400/okay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;the effing lies that men lie about everyday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;when he walks away eventhough there's tears in your eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;without turning back. ohh, life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;my bad, my fault.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;how much does it hurt?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;but don't you care?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6073649195808126059-2659181997209209898?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/2659181997209209898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=2659181997209209898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2659181997209209898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/2659181997209209898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/11/effing-lies-that-men-lie-about-everyday.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SvQ5ISnQnfI/AAAAAAAACRg/aO6p0KYtctM/s72-c/okay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1542320767967182015</id><published>2009-10-29T18:39:00.014+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T20:40:00.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;have you ever experienced, waking up early in the morning, feeling all excited looking forward to meeting someone that you've missed since forever? of course you do. well, let me continue the question, how about this, have you ever wanted to meet someone so much, but that person simply turned you down? because that person for sure doesn't care even a bit about how you're feeling. i know, it should be hard on you; everyday filled with regrets, regret for the second chance that was being given. well, you know what? i shall put your misery to the end. no point living with regrets, remember? you always tell me that. i hope i'm helping you to live peacefully. but again, not like as if you give a shit about it? like what you always tell me, everything is in the past. what's the point learning History? past is past. alas, hey, coz you know why? you ought to know how it feels being betrayed by empty words. yesss. it's like i've been awaken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;so, as per usual, fyp's still acting like a chicken's ass. told you, chicken's ass taste great, but it's hard to obtain that ass. literature review seems never ending. apparently, food students are having a bad time in life. i'm utterly &lt;em&gt;shingz off&lt;/em&gt;. what's shingz? check it out: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clicknetwork.tv/watch.aspx?c=5&amp;amp;p=16"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://www.clicknetwork.tv/watch.aspx?c=5&amp;amp;p=16&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; god bless you, ris low. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm actually killing myself softly. you see, ive been eating in irregular manner. i feel terrible after eating, thus, you should know what i do after that. why oh why. it's hard to comprehend. what about this mixed feeling again? i hope you're good, it doesn't matter to you. it does matter to me anyway. contradicting. i'm tired of hearing you putting all the blames on me. yes, i don't deny the fact that my temper hasn't gotten the better of me. at least ive put in effort in some other ways. reflect. stop pointing fingers at others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i've been wondering, how it feels kissing a girl. a smoking hot girl. no joke. nothing to salvage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1542320767967182015?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1542320767967182015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1542320767967182015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1542320767967182015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1542320767967182015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/10/have-you-ever-experienced-waking-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3047839206473648903</id><published>2009-10-23T20:49:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T01:12:34.397+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395841373456521538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SuHhJAk7WUI/AAAAAAAACRI/-etSI4v_8Co/s400/SDC11024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you love them, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;they drive you crazy &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;because they know they can.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Life' like that. Truth hurts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395843277515216690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SuHi31v5VzI/AAAAAAAACRY/9wINQGLtwXY/s400/SDC11029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;now tell me, look at that facial expression of ahmad's.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;he's disgusted with me, isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3047839206473648903?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3047839206473648903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3047839206473648903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3047839206473648903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3047839206473648903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-you-love-them-they-drive-you-crazy.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/SuHhJAk7WUI/AAAAAAAACRI/-etSI4v_8Co/s72-c/SDC11024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6895308590645966629</id><published>2009-10-18T02:05:00.018+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T15:40:02.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he made the mole on my right hand seems bigger and distorted. it looks uglier now. the mole i mean. that's all i am able to type about right now. hold on a second, let me chew something over my mind. okay, yesterday marked our 23rd month being together. yeah, i can't believe it either. despite the numerous ultimate excruciating arguments, we're still so deeply in love with each other..huhuhu. ouh, not forgetting about the claim; siti fairuz is obnoxious. put that shit aside. anyway, i cooked his favourite dishes today. i could see the over the moon blithe lil baby's face, smiling from ear to ear, when he saw my Nasi Goreng Kampong and Ikan pari bakar. Like what people always say, the best way to win the man's heart is through their stomach? empty stomach? watever. a happy frame of mind, well, at least for today. i love you baby. i ain't being discreet again. telling the whole world i love you? embarrassed? quote me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;school's commencing real soon. i have a mixed feeling about this semester. hopefully, this would be my very last semester; fyp &amp;amp; exam. Good God. fyp is being a chicken's ass. some irritating turds used our chemicals, and thus, now we're utterly behind time. i miss having a smooth sailing boat. &lt;/span&gt;gonna be a real busy disastrous semester. what a piece of excrement. 4 more months!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6895308590645966629?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6895308590645966629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6895308590645966629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6895308590645966629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6895308590645966629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/10/he-made-mole-on-my-right-hand-seems.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-3515766956100780247</id><published>2009-10-02T18:58:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T19:39:07.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;It struck me, when my boyfriend confessed to me that I'm no longer sweet soft-spoken girl he used to know. He complained, yet again, about me being loud and obnoxious. It hurts to know the truth from someone you love dearly. Love is like that. All along, everybody knows me as the loud one but i had never dreamt of being labelled obnoxious what's more by my beloved one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;The beginning of love tends to blind you. You overlook the flaws of your newly found love of your life. You're deeply in love. Em' with penis, they initiate everything. Even if you shout at em' penis, you still look cute to them. He'd always be there for you. However, men, as time passes by, they're the ones who get bored. They'd start finding your fault. You're just a pain in the ass to them. What's the point there? Here comes the moment of truth. No more flawless figure. It was such a waste of time. Don't waste your effort to please them. No matter what you do for them, they'd never feel special about it. They're immune to it already. Don't shout at em' penis now, cos they'd only remember your bad deeds, forever. They don't even bother to contemplate about your beautiful side anymore. Now, you're simply an ugly obnoxious bitchy blockhead to em'penis. Nothing to salvage, bitch. And bitch, never ever cry infront of em'penis. It makes them feel disgusted about you, emoshit. yerp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you for being honest. You really made my day.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-3515766956100780247?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/3515766956100780247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=3515766956100780247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3515766956100780247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/3515766956100780247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-struck-me-when-my-boyfriend.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6422922451871228146</id><published>2009-09-27T02:21:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T23:33:14.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;it's simply my forte; making a mountain out of a molehill. or perhaps it's human nature, wait, women's nature. we're like that. i don't know whether to feel happy or otherwise about today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i8Pzc8tI/AAAAAAAACRA/dEiMliwHvDg/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385850991555703506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i8Pzc8tI/AAAAAAAACRA/dEiMliwHvDg/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i7po4kkI/AAAAAAAACQ4/V-cQPXiB46U/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385850981310829122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i7po4kkI/AAAAAAAACQ4/V-cQPXiB46U/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i61NLYTI/AAAAAAAACQw/135Be7AZ9q8/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385850967235977522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i61NLYTI/AAAAAAAACQw/135Be7AZ9q8/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;i gotta do something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6422922451871228146?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6422922451871228146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6422922451871228146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6422922451871228146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6422922451871228146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-simply-my-forte-making-mountain-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Sr5i8Pzc8tI/AAAAAAAACRA/dEiMliwHvDg/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-7046835297057203645</id><published>2009-09-26T01:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T01:59:42.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that's the result of giving too much.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-7046835297057203645?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/7046835297057203645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=7046835297057203645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7046835297057203645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/7046835297057203645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/09/thats-results-of-giving-too-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-1035501472713949430</id><published>2009-09-09T04:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T04:57:39.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this holy month, i thank God for giving me everything that i have now. yes, i suppose i'm lacking of a lot of things. But i am grateful with my present life. it's gonna be hard. however, i'm sure we gonna make it happen together. fulfilling your dreams. mine, simple life, simple future. even though ure not my first, i really hope you'll be my last ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;and i love you mum and dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-1035501472713949430?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/1035501472713949430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=1035501472713949430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1035501472713949430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/1035501472713949430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-this-holy-month-i-thank-god-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4918600260773657056</id><published>2009-09-05T03:32:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T03:35:40.837+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/?action=view&amp;current=02032008016.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/02032008016.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was so yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;im missing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4918600260773657056?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4918600260773657056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4918600260773657056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4918600260773657056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4918600260773657056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/09/photobucket.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-5404139977074542721</id><published>2009-08-30T02:47:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T03:04:06.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;at times, i wonder, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;how in the blue hell i managed to draw this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;scientist, lets ponder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4lBa1GPI/AAAAAAAACQo/NmhaefwXk24/s1600-h/n576489957_1489608_921254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375460207674857714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4lBa1GPI/AAAAAAAACQo/NmhaefwXk24/s400/n576489957_1489608_921254.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and i thought i've lost it. no i don't. even though umpteenth time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;u despise me bein' the top student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4ko2iXQI/AAAAAAAACQg/q1XvVXZVDXA/s1600-h/2344_54074754957_576489957_1459906_226575_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375460201080184066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4ko2iXQI/AAAAAAAACQg/q1XvVXZVDXA/s400/2344_54074754957_576489957_1459906_226575_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss the happy times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4kbJjH3I/AAAAAAAACQY/vBnIVV3CUBQ/s1600-h/n576489957_1489604_3355801.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375460197401829234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4kbJjH3I/AAAAAAAACQY/vBnIVV3CUBQ/s400/n576489957_1489604_3355801.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ouhh, of course i miss that hair and abg bobo's ride. huhu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl31bgh9fI/AAAAAAAACQQ/tZA9qCyGRp4/s1600-h/n576489957_1489597_7678797.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375459390044370418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl31bgh9fI/AAAAAAAACQQ/tZA9qCyGRp4/s400/n576489957_1489597_7678797.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dry eyes uh, difficult to tdo. 3 o clock in the morning. mummy and daddy busy painting their bedroom. i cant wait to finish my examination papers. 2 more to go. monday and wednesday. no, i havent revised. not a single bit of faeces. who cares. bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-5404139977074542721?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/5404139977074542721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=5404139977074542721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5404139977074542721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/5404139977074542721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/08/at-times-i-wonder-how-in-blue-hell-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-mP2aao9ndE/Spl4lBa1GPI/AAAAAAAACQo/NmhaefwXk24/s72-c/n576489957_1489608_921254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-4056815630967273364</id><published>2009-08-25T08:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T08:50:50.461+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;am listening to Home by Daughtry. such gentle voice. wonderful perfect weather for a great good sleep. damn, havent been sleeping for two days. four shit-take modules to go. i loathe my fugly eyebags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-4056815630967273364?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/4056815630967273364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=4056815630967273364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4056815630967273364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/4056815630967273364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/08/am-listening-to-home-by-daughtry.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6051338172851433215</id><published>2009-08-21T17:29:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T16:42:23.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was lying down on the sofa when it came and struck me. there's no need for a reason to think about someone. all along i keep thinking about you. after all this while, funny isn't it you still don't have any idea what to say about me. when i myself, i have thousands of good things to talk about you. well technically. huhu.. it's a murky world. all of a sudden, i thought of you. i thought of the time when u had to leave singapore for Taiwan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/ahmad%20fairuz/airport/?action=view&amp;amp;current=13012008004.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 342px; HEIGHT: 455px" height="709" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/ahmad%20fairuz/airport/13012008004.jpg" width="362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s25.photobucket.com/albums/c87/aryanz07/ahmad%20fairuz/airport/?action=view&amp;amp;current=13012008004.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6051338172851433215?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6051338172851433215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6051338172851433215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6051338172851433215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6051338172851433215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-was-lying-on-sofa-when-it-came-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073649195808126059.post-6352211912921810106</id><published>2009-08-19T02:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T02:15:41.914+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;somebody has just knocked some sense into my effing thick brain of mine. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sucha numbskull. blockhead. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;anyways, its been almost a week now. such a great improvement. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;im proud of myself. puasa is coming. exciting!! 5 more days -&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; exam's preparation badly done.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6073649195808126059-6352211912921810106?l=mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/feeds/6352211912921810106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6073649195808126059&amp;postID=6352211912921810106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6352211912921810106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6073649195808126059/posts/default/6352211912921810106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mademoiselle-aryanz07.blogspot.com/2009/08/somebody-has-just-knocked-some-sense.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Aryanz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05808251310762273818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
