<?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-8246083968343305551</id><updated>2011-10-31T05:53:29.289+08:00</updated><category term='get the fuck out of my head and heart'/><category term='Get the fuck out of here'/><category term='the hurt&apos;s unbearable; torture'/><title type='text'>NXSA.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>180</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5454505632496488011</id><published>2011-08-09T04:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T04:46:00.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moved</title><content type='html'>I created another blog months back but I never posted anything there because... Idk? I got used to posting at this blog I think? Anyway, I've decided to move to that blog and use it officially. No particular reason. Just feel like it. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I imported all the post from here to that blog. So yeah. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://triflingfiery.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://triflingfiery.blogspot.com/&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/8246083968343305551-5454505632496488011?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5454505632496488011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5454505632496488011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5454505632496488011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5454505632496488011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/08/moved.html' title='Moved'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4803569385100061071</id><published>2011-08-07T03:16:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T05:34:51.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I was just something he could get easily</title><content type='html'>So, I've been thinking recently, pondering.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came to realise he was never into me. Perhaps he was. But the most recent relationship I had with him, he wasn't into me. I've realised this some time ago but there's more to it now that I think about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All these years, I think I've made it easy for him. I was the one who was texting first whenever we fought or broke up. I was usually the first one telling him I miss him. I did most of the work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before the last relationship, I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't take him back. But what held me back was the fact that he told me to stay. All these years that I've known him, he had never told me to stay. Because I was the one who told him to stay. He actually somewhat fought for me that time, which made me thought that he's changed and perhaps maybe he was worth the try.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He told me that during the period that we never contacted, a year, he met other girls and nothing could compare to him. I believed him. But then, I realise something. Ofcourse those other girls weren't the same to me. I was the one who always gave in to him. I always searched for him, I gave so much to him. I always gave in. I made things easy for him, unlike those girls, probably.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But after awhile, after getting a hold of me, he knows I won't leave so he took granted of me. And eventually, he got bored of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After everything that has happened, all I know that he was never into me. He didn't make much effort, he didn't gave me what I deserved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if all those things were lies or a facade. When I think about it, they possibly may be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until today, I sure am hurt. It just shows how much he meant to me. And what contributes to the pain is the fact that I know he meant the world to me but I never meant as much to him. And it hurts knowing that it's hurting me this bad, still, and that he's leading his life, like all those years, they never happened and they never mattered.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's okay. I'll be okay. All these, are trials of life. And it's what that will make me stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4803569385100061071?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4803569385100061071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4803569385100061071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4803569385100061071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4803569385100061071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-was-just-something-easy-he-knew-he.html' title='I was just something he could get easily'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3661812446451438852</id><published>2011-08-04T04:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T04:02:43.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A phase of life</title><content type='html'>This is a test. It'll pass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3661812446451438852?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3661812446451438852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3661812446451438852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3661812446451438852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3661812446451438852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/08/phase-of-life.html' title='A phase of life'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6539601608698903277</id><published>2011-07-31T02:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T02:54:11.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just to clear the air, or whatever.</title><content type='html'>Been a while, hasn't it? Not really sure why I've not been blogging. Probably 'cos I've nothing to talk about. My life's pretty much a routine. And the fact that it's not a need to tell the whole world about my daily routines. -.-&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ramadhan's in a day away. And sadly, this year, just like two years ago, I can't welcome it due to a dreadful, irritating process which occurs to all healthy females every month. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I'm here for a reason, to express myself, of course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I don't know what people think of me, I don't really need to know actually. So, some might know that I've been with a guy once and too many time. And as far as I have lived, throughout my 18 years of life, I think he's the guy I've loved the most so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things didn't go well for the relationship with him. But as far as I know, I've nothing against him now. I've accepted the fact that things in life change. People move on, feelings fade away - as cliche it is, it is most definitely true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think he's my first love, and they say, it's difficult to forget your first love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, I may just say things 'cos sometimes, you just feel things, you know? Random emotions just occur to you. Sometimes, you feel like you miss the person. Sometimes, you feel mad at the person for some reasons (like, you could've have invested your feelings for someone else who could've give you as much, or, like how much hurt you felt whatsoever).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that doesn't make you hate that person or whatsoever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Idk what other people have in their minds. But all I know, that guy I used to love so dearly, I never regretted risking my feelings for him. Sure, it hurt so much. But the good times were worth the try and worth the pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may say things sometimes but I may just be angry at the moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, don't get me wrong. It's not that I still have feelings for him and want him back. Okay, maybe I still have some faint feelings for him. But I know I've moved on with my own life. And I'm more than sure he too is going on with his own life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I hadn't move on yet, or at all, I would be talking to him, I would be texting him. But I'm not. And even that particular night, I decided to stop answering/replying. Because I want to move on; I made this decision long before, when I decided to stop waiting for an answer from him. I may take a longer time to move on but that doesn't mean I wouldn't get there. I will, someday. It's just that I don't move on as fast as him. Simple as that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think people think that I'm still waiting on him and that I'm still clinging on to him. But they're wrong. For all I know, he may be having feelings for someone now and if that's true, then it's good for him. But I just wish people would understand that it doesn't mean that some people take a longer time to move on but that doesn't mean they are not moving on. That doesn't mean they are still clinging on to the past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should know better right? For all these years of clinging on, I should learn from it. And I'm mature enough to set my priorities. Unlike then, I was still a secondary school girl/ a poly freshmen who knows nothing. I'm still learning though, now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As far as I know, I'm equals with my ex, like I've mentioned earlier, I've nothing against him. So, I won't understand if anyone were to be angry or were to hate me or something in pertaining to this. Idk, doesn't make sense to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But whatever it is, they think or have to say, it's their opinion afterall. It's difficult to please everyone as Mom always say. And, I don't feel the need to please people. Especially if they don't have much significance in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess that's it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, to all Muslims, here's a day in advance, (or maybe just a few hours) I hope you have a blissful, fruitful and ofcourse peaceful Ramadhan. InsyaAllah, may you be closer to Allah. I hope that would happen to me. :) Amin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6539601608698903277?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6539601608698903277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6539601608698903277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6539601608698903277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6539601608698903277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-to-clear-air-or-whatever.html' title='Just to clear the air, or whatever.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4626615578345780616</id><published>2011-07-06T02:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T02:36:10.638+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the hurt&apos;s unbearable; torture'/><title type='text'>I really want to forget you. So much I wish I never met you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uuya_0PngCw/ThNZI39hb_I/AAAAAAAAANc/PPxXrSQMe08/s1600/tumblr_lnlhdcU2mn1qbpwzeo1_500.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uuya_0PngCw/ThNZI39hb_I/AAAAAAAAANc/PPxXrSQMe08/s400/tumblr_lnlhdcU2mn1qbpwzeo1_500.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625938368511700978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4626615578345780616?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4626615578345780616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4626615578345780616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4626615578345780616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4626615578345780616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-really-want-to-forget-you-so-much-i.html' title='I really want to forget you. So much I wish I never met you.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uuya_0PngCw/ThNZI39hb_I/AAAAAAAAANc/PPxXrSQMe08/s72-c/tumblr_lnlhdcU2mn1qbpwzeo1_500.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2859685498335043203</id><published>2011-07-03T05:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T05:43:01.387+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you even, for once...?</title><content type='html'>Lying down, this song, Don't Wanna Try by Frankie J playing...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It makes me wonder, up till now, how can a person who made you felt top of the world treat you this bad. I'm still in disbelief. The words said... Flashbacks of how things were at the last moments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How one person to make you laugh and smile.... How much that person changed so drastically in such a short time and so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never had I imagine you could turn out this mean. Never did I imagine you'd treat me like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You hurt me so much, A. It's beyond words. How could you, someone so dear to me, turn out a total stranger and so cruel?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Makes me wonder if you ever realize how you treated me. Makes me wonder if you ever even spent a while, sitting, reminiscing of the things you said and felt sorry for the things you've said and done? And for once not blame on me and actually think that you're in the wrong and feel guilty? Have you ever even, for once...?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2859685498335043203?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2859685498335043203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2859685498335043203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2859685498335043203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2859685498335043203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/07/have-you-even-for-once.html' title='Have you even, for once...?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7941946754908832513</id><published>2011-07-01T02:39:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T03:03:46.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I was actually looking forward to practise...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;There's no practise later on due to Ignite. Despite that tomorrow's an e-learning module, I've to come to school to do my Nutrition assignment. The weekly one. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right. Idk what to do after my assignment tomorrow. I so wanna head out and do some retail therapy but I'm close to broke. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've yet to even start on the UT2 one and it's due in 3 days. Deep shit, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, it's July. I hope it's gonna be better this month. I think June was a disappointment. But anyway... I think July's gonna be pretty uptight. With UT2 coming along, assignments and practical, and the fact that the modules I skipped are those gonna be included in the upcoming UTs, well, most likely be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moving on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if it actually pays to be nice to some people. And, I actually don't know the value of 'sorrys'  anymore especially if it comes from a certain someone. Idk, it's got me thinking.... Alot of things that perhaps I'd rather not talk about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I question,&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;big&gt;Why did he turn into such a jerk?&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I just realised few days back that my hair's pretty long now. Like, I can actually feel it's longer than usual. I was about to cut it but I just had my period yesterday so yeah. So I thought of getting it cut after my period finishes but today when I looked in the mirror, I felt that it would be sucha a pity and waste if I were to get it cut. So yeah, contemplatingggg. As usual.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't told through twitter or anywhere so this would be the first place. I've been dropping hints on twitter. Very vague hints. Hehe. This is about... Idk, now I feel like not breaking it to my blog. Hahah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I've something new with me that I treasure a lot. &amp;lt;3 HAHA I doubt anyone knows... Hahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I've only told Sue about it. So yeah. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I've mentioned before, I really wanna get another pair of piercings on my ear lobes and I so want to get my hair highlighted. But it seems that I'm always close to being broke. And when I'm not, I have other important things to spend on, or, I have wants that are more important to spend first as compared to the things I mentioned earlier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, it's gonna be August in a month's time. Which means this semester is gonna end pretty soon. Rejoice! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But seriously, I need and want to work hard for UT3 this year. I know it has a lot of weightage in terms for my GPA. I had 2.45 last sem which pull me down by alot. Hmm. But at the rate of how my daiy grades are, I don't think I'll see a huge jump for my GPA this sem. But at least, I need to make it a point that it has to be more than what I got last sem or atleast the same as the one I had in year 1 sem 1 which is 2.8.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which makes me question myself whether I really want to pursue a degree after poly, been having second thoughts about that. Prolly a little too soon to think about but Idk. Part of me still wants to get a degree butttt I'm such a lazy ass so yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I spent my after-school with Sue yesterday. Such fun eventho it was really very simple. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, ending post here. xoxo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7941946754908832513?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7941946754908832513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7941946754908832513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7941946754908832513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7941946754908832513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-was-actually-looking-forward-to.html' title='I was actually looking forward to practise...'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2605903364992878276</id><published>2011-06-30T01:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T01:54:24.152+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What was I thinking? Why do I even come across those things in my head? It's just fucking stupid of me. I've said it. "Teenagers, we don't know anything."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If he's been a jerk towards you, most likely, he'll be hurting you until... forever. You think of these things that deep down, he'a nice guy. But no, it's just you. You're the fucking stupid one who really needs to slapped because by him hurting you emotionally, it won't make you realise all these.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fuck my thoughts. Fuck it all. Stupid girl to think of such things. Really Nisa? You think that way? You're just fucking dumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You enjoy making yourself upset because of him right? Will you ever learn? Haven't you had enough and tired of hurting?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2605903364992878276?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2605903364992878276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2605903364992878276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2605903364992878276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2605903364992878276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-was-i-thinking-why-do-i-even-come.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2549189844291319254</id><published>2011-06-29T03:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T04:17:45.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Typical Post...</title><content type='html'>Maybe I've been feeling remorseful all the while due to the suppression of emotions and denial.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I gathered all the courage and told those things that I've been wanting to, then did I feel better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've learned to not hate him. I've accepted that yes, in life, people are gonna hurt and disappoint you, especially those you wish that wouldn't. They will hurt you, no matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And no doubt, he still has a part of me. Maybe it's because I'm already too comfortable with him. But it's something not important right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say lovers can't be friends. If they are, they either never really loved or they are still. Maybe for me, it's the latter. But love's too strong of a word. Or am I in denial? But then again, am I just loving carefully, am I just being realistic and rational? Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've heard somewhere that in order for you to be happy, you must set all your negative feelings free. Maybe this is letting the negative feelings free?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't wish to think further because who knows what my brain may come up with and who knows what I would feel with the things I might think of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I came across this thing, "when you're negative, all the energy that you tend to attract would be negative"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then, I suddenly got enlightened. "No wonderrrr"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I was already living a negative life, all the more it had me turned into that kind of person when I was in a relationship. Which is supported by the saying, "if you're unhappy single, you'd be more unhappy in a relationship." Makes. Total. Sense. To. Me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what the future may bring, no one knows. But I'm still hoping that you're the one for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if God has better plans for me, then, I'll accept. Afterall, I should be thankful because I had so many time with him over and over again. And maybe if one day I were to look back, this may just be another small phase of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"We're teenagers, we don't know anything."&lt;/i&gt; :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way, I've a few updating to do about one or two happenings in life but I keep postponing it due to pure laziness. We'll see how. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2549189844291319254?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2549189844291319254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2549189844291319254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2549189844291319254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2549189844291319254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/typical-post.html' title='A Typical Post...'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5932151570463395289</id><published>2011-06-13T01:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T01:56:12.455+08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Idk what has gotten into me of recent. It seems that the girl who usually rationale herself out of things is fading out. And my emotions are seem to get the best of me. Hmm.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm trying to find out what when wrong. Why am I like this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The flashbacks seem more vivid than ever, but it's not like it's not normal. It's such a normal thing to reminisce and get flashbacks that it doesn't bother me anymore. But the thing is that, these past few days, it's been affecting me. It bothers me so much. I just wish it'd go away; this sadness that comes along with flashbacks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always believed that it's okay to cry. Especially for girls, it's definitely okay to cry. When you cry, it's like a form of relief from the pain and emotions you're feeling and once you're done crying, you get a clearer mind and you'll appear stronger. Idk if that applies to everyone but it has always applied to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not that I cry alot. In fact, I don't. It's not easy for me to cry, especially of recent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which means... all these sadness I feel is piling up. I'm just waiting to break through this emotions. Hmm. I don't know... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, I feel it's ridiculous. To feel all these when he really doesn't care. And it's not like it's once or twice that I feel this way. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it'll be over, sooner or later. But I'm just tired. Tired of feeling this over and over again. I wish to break out of this cycle. It'd really draining me; these negative emotions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please, I wish this to be over soon. But don't get me wrong. I'm okay. Really. Just bumped once in awhile but I'll be fine sooner or later. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;small&gt;P.s. Imy, hands down. But it's not like it means anything anymore or if it matters anymore. But what makes me feel worse is that, knowing that I miss you and I can't do anything about that but to suck it in, as always.&lt;/small&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/8246083968343305551-5932151570463395289?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5932151570463395289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5932151570463395289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5932151570463395289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5932151570463395289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6112062378781873971</id><published>2011-06-10T21:07:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T02:38:02.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GEnRe Camp!</title><content type='html'>I was away from home for 3 days, for my IG camp, GEnRe. I'm in Guitar Ensemble, did I mention?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, camp pretty fun. Made friends here and there. :) Got close with two girls, Joy and Jacklyn. ♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realise that as years go by, I get more and more shy slash introverted. Idk. Haha. I feel shy to approach people. I know! Wth right? Gosh. Hahahahah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First day of camp was pretty mundane. I thought second day was awesome. :) The highlight for me for that day was the Amazing Race. I'm in Team 1 by the way. There were a total of four teams. Team 1 came in second for the Amazing Race but doesn't really matter 'cause I had fun. :) Third day wasn't much of activities, it was mainly photo-taking and prize giving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the second day was the most happening ah. There was a captain's ball match between the seniors and juniors; juniors won. Hehe. And at night, GEnRe went to W4's lecture theater to catch a horror movie; Dead Silence. Then before lights out, we gathered in a circle and wrote our first impression of each other. So yeah, pretty much the most happening day during the camp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Must say that this is the most laid back camp I've ever attended though; a neutral thing- neither good nor bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over all, I enjoyed myself this camp. I look forward to more enjoyable and great moments with GEnRe. ♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone's turning 18 tomorrow. Hehe. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I'm sick. My throat's pretty sore; it hurts whenever I gulp/swallow. Sucks to be sick. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School's gonna start this Monday. What a bummer. Health Psychology UT on Tuesday. What. A. Bummer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've nothing else to talk about. Write soon. &amp;lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6112062378781873971?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6112062378781873971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6112062378781873971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6112062378781873971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6112062378781873971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/genre-camp.html' title='GEnRe Camp!'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4711839488375341461</id><published>2011-06-05T04:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T04:30:30.278+08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Siti Suhaira Suhaimi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TN3pxpqK5sM/TeqRgZr9EzI/AAAAAAAAANU/d1kmt5_v9X8/s1600/Picture0695.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TN3pxpqK5sM/TeqRgZr9EzI/AAAAAAAAANU/d1kmt5_v9X8/s400/Picture0695.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614459871307830066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Picture taken from fir3fli3s.blogspot.com :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This girl in this picture, she's turned 18 today. And this post right now you're reading, is dedicated to her. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time flies so fast, doesn't it? I can''t believe that she's turned 18, and that I'm turning 18 too. -.- It feels like yesterday that we're just 13, so so young and naive (and selenge :P). Hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I've watched this girl grown and changed alot over the years, but some things in her doesn't change, like how nice she is and her giggles. Haha! I've heard her stories, both happy and sad throughout the years. And I'm looking forward to hear them in years to come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's the other girl in my life that I consider like a sibling. The other is Liy ofcourse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really know what to say. It seems like I've lost the touch of expressing myself to people. But I hope she knows that she's important to me. I'm thankful that Allah has made our paths crossed each other and giving me this great friendship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Sue for your endless support and care throughout these years and not to mention the listening ear you give over almost always the same issues. Hehe. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May both of us find true love when the time comes. May both of us mature and grow from heartaches and tears that were caused. But most importantly, may both of us held our head high after each fall. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry if this sounds very serious or too formal. But I think it's just a me-thing when I express myself. Hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy 18th Birthday sayang! Dah boleh club dengan your friend yang Mindy all. Oh, tak eh? :P Hahahh! Kk, aku tau kau tak nak club if can. Heheheh! Love yaaaa~ ♥♥♥ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4711839488375341461?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4711839488375341461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4711839488375341461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4711839488375341461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4711839488375341461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/for-siti-suhaira-suhaimi.html' title='For Siti Suhaira Suhaimi'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TN3pxpqK5sM/TeqRgZr9EzI/AAAAAAAAANU/d1kmt5_v9X8/s72-c/Picture0695.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3185682732395315896</id><published>2011-06-02T03:20:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T03:24:53.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heavy eyelids equals to improper post</title><content type='html'>It's the hols. One week pun jadilah! Heh. Kbye, ngantuk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;P.S. I don't hate you, not a bit. If there were mean things said, directly or indirectly, it was all in the midst of anger. I'm still in the process of getting over/forgetting you, so yeah. &lt;/small&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3185682732395315896?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3185682732395315896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3185682732395315896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3185682732395315896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3185682732395315896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/06/heavy-eyelids-equals-to-improper-post.html' title='Heavy eyelids equals to improper post'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-85707616547555187</id><published>2011-05-30T23:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T23:19:53.679+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='get the fuck out of my head and heart'/><title type='text'>Dear You,</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I'd &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;earnestly&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; like to forget you.&lt;/span&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/8246083968343305551-85707616547555187?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/85707616547555187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=85707616547555187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/85707616547555187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/85707616547555187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/id-sincerely-like-to-forget-you.html' title='Dear You,'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7415722584207825263</id><published>2011-05-28T06:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T07:02:09.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break rationale, please?</title><content type='html'>The coming week marks the last week of school for me, if I'm not wrong. Then it'd be my mid-semester break.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday was my last paper before the mid-term break. But sadly, there's nothing to rejoice for. 'Cause the week after my break, UTs will be resumed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, what is the rational behind this? Okay, maybe I can understand the fact that the academic year this year round started later as compared to the previous year, and the fact that there were pretty much a few holidays during this semester itself. So, fine, I can understand IF that's the reason to why we're having exams even after the break, when exams are supposed to end before a break; the norm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing that I cannot comprehend is that, why is it that Rp's break consists of a week long and when other polys, their break consists of 3 weeks. Someone, tell me the rational behind this please?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, we started the semester on the same date this academic year. Unlike last year, I remember Rp starting earlier than almost all the polys, and if that's the reason to why our break is a week long, then I understand. But I don't understand... Ugh. Whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A week long for this coming break, I'm anticipating for it. I'm thankful that there is a break but I just need someone to rationalise with me why is our break not as long as other polys. Yknow, I'm the kind of person that just wants rationales behind things. I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But anyway, my week of break isn't really gonna be much of a break. I've three days occupied for my ig and a day taken for the IMH visit slash tour for Psych.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope after the visit, we'd be heading out. Umm, I really wanna watch X-men: First Class. And it premiers that day, so please please pleaseeee. Nak tengoksh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7415722584207825263?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7415722584207825263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7415722584207825263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7415722584207825263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7415722584207825263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/break-rationale-please.html' title='Break rationale, please?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1531189018896895436</id><published>2011-05-25T22:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T22:41:38.072+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Says it all</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zNCz4ZosYRE/Td0VAJlmjcI/AAAAAAAAANI/BNeytf67byY/s1600/306288985.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zNCz4ZosYRE/Td0VAJlmjcI/AAAAAAAAANI/BNeytf67byY/s400/306288985.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610663803091324354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1531189018896895436?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1531189018896895436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1531189018896895436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1531189018896895436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1531189018896895436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/says-it-all.html' title='Says it all'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zNCz4ZosYRE/Td0VAJlmjcI/AAAAAAAAANI/BNeytf67byY/s72-c/306288985.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5343697557901930404</id><published>2011-05-25T18:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T19:08:03.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions running through my head</title><content type='html'>Did I disappoint you? I didn't upset you, did I? Or am I just over-thinking?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why is it that my thoughts of recent is filled with.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I feel this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do memories seems more vivid?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I still compare them to you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I miss seeing your smile?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it only right that I feel this guilty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But who am I to you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am overthinking, aren't I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't matter to you anymore, does it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I even feel guilty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I regret.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why am I even thinking of these things?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It probably doesn't matter to you, does it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm over thinking, aren't I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're no more longer special to me, why did I anticipate for that date? If you're no longer special to me, why did I wrote that post on my tumblr, on that date, at 5 in the morning? If you're not special to me anymore, why would I dedicate that tweet? If you're not special to me anymore, why do I still post that here? If you're not special to me anymore, why do I still bother?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why are you still special to me? Why do I still bother about your emotions? Why does my mind think in this way? Why am I such a fool?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5343697557901930404?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5343697557901930404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5343697557901930404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5343697557901930404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5343697557901930404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/questions-running-through-my-head.html' title='Questions running through my head'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-513652231475994223</id><published>2011-05-23T22:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T22:56:08.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'>UT, Sleep.</title><content type='html'>I think I'll not be posting for some time since it's the UT period. Okay, maybe I will but only I feel like it or have the time. Had my first paper just now. Hopefully I'll get a decent grade. C the least, please?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been having disturbed sleep of recent. I keep on waking up in between like every hour? Idk. Not a good thing. Before this, I've been lack of sleep and now by waking up so often, my sleep is lacking in quality. And with the things I've been learning in school, this is utterly not a good thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, school has been teaching me so much of health things. In case you don't know, I'm taking Diploma in Health Management and Promotion. So yeah, explains it all I guess?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really need to learn to have a good relationship with sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That aside, I need money. Correction, I want money. I want to buy so many things, do so many things but I'm short of cash. Haih. So many good movies coming soon. Haih, money... Hmm. I don't understand how people can starve themselves in school just to save money. I can't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm able to blog right now 'cause I've not UT tmr and that I've no rj today; e-learning yet again. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm getting sleepy already. I'm ending this post now so as to able to do things more earlier then head to bed earlier. I hope I get a good sleep tonight. I've been feeling guilty to myself for the insufficient sleep. See, how can I be in a relationship when I don't even love myself and give myself sufficient rest? HAHAHAH, NONSENSE! Sorry, it's just me; talking nonsense whenever I get sleepy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ugh, eyelids so heavy. Tata. ♥&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/8246083968343305551-513652231475994223?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/513652231475994223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=513652231475994223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/513652231475994223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/513652231475994223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/ut-sleep.html' title='UT, Sleep.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8523139519202544021</id><published>2011-05-22T23:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T23:50:13.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;small&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Happy 18th birthday, past lover. I wish you the best. And just in case you didn't know, I remembered from the beginning. I'll always will. I hope you're happy. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8523139519202544021?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8523139519202544021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8523139519202544021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8523139519202544021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8523139519202544021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-18th-birthday-past-lover.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8815670503893661131</id><published>2011-05-17T04:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T05:18:49.177+08:00</updated><title type='text'>InterestG</title><content type='html'>A post before I head to bed. Since it's a holiday later, I can afford to sleep at this time. Time check: 4.55 a.m. Hehe.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since it's Tuesday, 17th May already, I'll be talking about yesterday which was Monday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was draining. No idea why. It was Health Promotion. Pretty much didn't pay attention in class. It was one of the days where you went to school and came home, thinking, what the hell did I actually do in school? Haha, yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've not been feeling that well of recent. Throat's hurting so badly. It feels like a knife in it. Runny nose too. I think it's because of the warm weather? Anyway, needa drink up if you don't wish to fall ill like me! Hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after class, I had TRCC's Dialogue session, an hour long. If you guys don't know, TRCC is that building beside Republic Poly, where a lot of performances are done there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I was gonna talk about this. I've took up an ig, Guitar Ensemble, mainly because I've been wanting to learn how to play the guitar so badly since I was...14? Yeah. So, that explains it. Just had the first practise, on basic music theory. So I've yet to get my hands on a guitar. Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side tracked abit. I was talking about the dialogue session, didn't I? So anyway, at the end of it, there was this performance, a collaborated performance consisting of the dance IGs in RP and Wushu. While watching the performance, I felt this unexplainable feeling. Hmm, nostalgic, perhaps? But perhaps 'nostalgic' is a word under-described. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really miss being a performer. A dancer. I really miss it. To me, what it feels like to be performing on stage, dancing... is like freedom. Your hands, legs, body moves to the music, the lights on the stage shining down on you, the audio that you hear on the stage itself (it's a different feel than when you're an audience), the costume, and the best part is that joy you feel inside you that goes right up to your face, carving a smile naturally. Even when initially you're faking the smile, knowing that you're entertaining an audience, the smile comes naturally. That's how I feel during performances. It's a little melodramatic to some but it's really what I feel whenever I perform. I really miss performing as a dancer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, there are reasons why I'm not continuing with dance. I've mentioned before that I've this thirst of knowledge of recent. It makes me want to try new things. I've been in dance for more than 5 years of my life. And considering the fact that teenage life is one of the free-iest moments I have left, I think it's best to make full use of the time to try something new. I've been too comfortable, perhaps?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps, if God's will, I might continue dancing in the future. But I hope when the time comes, it wouldn't be too late? I hope my body won't get... "rusty"? Hahahah! What a word to describe! Haha :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've talked about my well being of recent, my ig and about the performance. I'm pretty much done with this post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yes, almost slipped my mind. UT's starting next week! Gosh, time flies so quickly. I'm turning 18 in less than a month. Oh dear, so old. HAHAHHA. Kiddingggg. But I shall spend the rest of my 17 years old days meaningfully. Hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8815670503893661131?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8815670503893661131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8815670503893661131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8815670503893661131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8815670503893661131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/interestg.html' title='InterestG'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8682884670140183289</id><published>2011-05-15T06:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T06:47:14.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant 101</title><content type='html'>I seriously have no clue what it's doing to me; whether it's making me stronger or not. I really don't know.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Right now, all I think is that it's all fucked up. I am confused as fuck. I can't put my finger on the things I'm feeling and neither on my thoughts too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frustration. Why the hell am I feeling this when he definitely isn't reminded of anything?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is this that I'm feeling?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Am I really denying from missing him? Do I actually, really, miss him? Or just the happy times, the companionship. Really, it's frustrating at the thought of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As days passed, it gets more and more disturbing. It? These feelings and thoughts. I really don't want to be the only one who hasn't move on. In terms of the both of us. I was doing fine, wasn't I? So what now this rubbish?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's really difficult to forget him, hands down. What more I've shared most of my teenage years with him. But really, I'm tired.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm tired of being the only one hurting, reminiscing, frustrating... missing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These negative emotions' are draining. If only there was a black hole to suck out all of these emotions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But then, I sit back and think. Maybe it's just the things around me. May has been pretty tough on luck, finance, grades. Almost everything. Perhaps, it's really just the month. Furthermore, it's the month. The month that once I took note of as it was someone's, who was significant to me, "special day". I remember a year back, on that day itself, I found myself breaking down. Don't really know why. But perhaps, just an assumption, that I know that I'm no longer special in that person's life and that on a special day, I won't be able to spend it with him anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe, but it doesn't guarantee. Logic? But, may not be a fact. Idk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Feeling much better as I type all these out. Find myself pretty calmed down already.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe it's been a week or two since I took a breather. All those life issues like studies and whatnot have been catching up on me that I've been emotionally shaken.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe that's what I am, usually. Once in a while I feel like I miss him or the times, perhaps part of the reason would be, emotionally shaken or challenged. And part of it is that... I just do. Idk, my brain thinks of these things on a spontaneous basis and suddenly they make sense to me. It's a habit, I think? Idk. It's probably no more longer making any sense to any of my readers, if there are, anymore. But it's okay as long as it does to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Please, May, be over. June's gonna be better. I've got intuition about that. Just like what I felt about May, it really turned out bad. 16 more days till the end of May! So, June's gonna be, in God's will, good. :) Otherwise, I'll make it good. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Shall update when I feel like updating. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8682884670140183289?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8682884670140183289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8682884670140183289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8682884670140183289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8682884670140183289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/rant-101.html' title='Rant 101'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4500580170651096780</id><published>2011-05-15T05:36:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T05:44:40.867+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Had My Heart Inside Your Hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rYEDA3JcQqw?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"The scars of your love,&lt;br /&gt;remind me of us.&lt;br /&gt;They keep me thinking that we almost had it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scars of your love,&lt;br /&gt;they leave me breathless.&lt;br /&gt;I can't help feeling we could have had it all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;"You had my heart inside your hand.&lt;br /&gt;But you played it with the beating."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4500580170651096780?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4500580170651096780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4500580170651096780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4500580170651096780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4500580170651096780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-had-my-heart-inside-your-hand.html' title='You Had My Heart Inside Your Hand'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rYEDA3JcQqw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5772447426819111232</id><published>2011-05-09T02:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T03:05:52.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not My Thing, I Reckon</title><content type='html'>My week has been pretty productive, especially in social terms. Got to meet Liy after some time on Friday. Been spending time with Mel, Maziah, Navin most of the times. Other times with Sue. But I don't know, just find it pretty productive. Oh, I got to catch The Roommate also last week. :) I like this kind of movie, thriller. Not horror or gore. But thriller. (Other than chick flicks and romantic comedy)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, last Friday marked the last session. Pretty straightforward. Since it wasn't the usual person, this time it was a guy, perhaps that's why it wasn't long-winded? Maybe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps it's just that I am comfortable with guys when it comes to this issue? Idk, or maybe it's simple biasness. But, really, doesn't matter. It's not like you get what I'm talking about, do you? Haha. The main point is, it's done. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've this thing of over and underestimating myself. Always happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when I was talking to this person, it made me realise that I am so much aware of the things that is going through my head and my life better than I think I do so. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which then all the more made me realise that I am not into this whole relationship thing. Not even dating, for now. Idk, there's this part of me that thirst of knowledge. I've been wanting to learn new things but it's just... hmm, life itself that stops me? Idk, lazy to ponder upon that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And from whatever the conversation I had with this person, it made me realise so much things. It made me realise especially that all those things that I ponder upon, are half of the time, beneficial for me. I don't just have these empty thoughts you know. When I think, it's more of reflecting. It's more of weighing things, coming out with possible outcomes etcetera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, life's been pretty good. And I am such a sucker for yogurt, especially frozen yogurt. Haha, no link.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've thought about it. I've lost myself in a midst of a heart break. I thought I was losing it. But that's just a phase I think? Well, what I was gonna say is that, I've thought this over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I've lost myself, I barely know who I am, I'm still in search of who I am and what I want in life, what I want to do, to be precise. If loving someone means giving that person a part of you, how am I suppose to do that if I've barely have the knowledge of myself? It's like giving money to someone when you barely have any for yourself, that kind of analogy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has also came to me that all these while, I didn't love myself. If I had, I wouldn't even want myself to suffer and go through all that motion. So again, it made me think. How do I love someone when I don't even love myself to begin with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think some teenagers have this perception that 18 is a suitable age for you to get a boyfriend/girlfriend. It's not wrong to get one at this age, really. But frankly, it's really okay to not have one. But it all comes down to oneself. If you already know what you want in life, if you know your self-worth, you're stable enough to let the tides of love hit you, then very well, dating/love is for you then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But as for me, I feel there's so much that I've missed out during the period(s) I was in a relationship. And if I get myself into another relationship, the chances are it'd do me no good like how it has always been. As in the outcome, get me? (Not saying relationships are really bad, they're not okay. I appreciate the times I've had in relationship(s) but it's the aftermath of a relationship I'm talking about)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, it's a day late but here's wishing all lovely mothers out there a Happy Mothers' Day! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've school in about 6 hours or so and I'm still awake. It's so warm tonight. Ugh. Good thing I've got no school on Tuesday as it's an e-learning module. Mehehe. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kinda looking forward to this Friday. I like new things. :) Shall speak about it when the time is right. :):)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I'll write when I do so. Heh. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5772447426819111232?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5772447426819111232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5772447426819111232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5772447426819111232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5772447426819111232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/05/not-my-thing-i-reckon.html' title='Not My Thing, I Reckon'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6634055184083523165</id><published>2011-04-25T11:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T12:13:16.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resemblance</title><content type='html'>I'm in class right now. Class is over. It's Nutrition today; an e-learning module.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got 2 e-learning modules this sem. This and Health Psychology. Such inconvenience, really. Dislike the idea of e-learning. Tsk tsk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm here for a reason. As in blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm feeling kinda blue right now. My morning started pretty well but something lowered my mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And currently, as I'm typing someone's in the class playing real slow music. One that seems to suit my mood. Not suit, that's not the right way to say. Fact is... it brings my mood even more lower.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's module, the lesson was just briefing and whatnot. Logging in to accounts and such.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That, is the reason why to my current mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came across an email address. I never knew it was in my lappy. I forgot the fact that he ever used my lappy. That email address... the "couple name" we used to have. 'Xz'. 858... 8th May 2008..?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just makes me upset. Should I? Is it wrong for me to be upset over this? Why am I even upset?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That I know something so close to me, something that meant my life, is no more longer part of it...? That, when I thought it'd work out this time, it failed? That I'm disappointed in not only him but in me and the relationship between us because I had pinned so much hope on it that it'd really work out but in the end.... it failed?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is that is? Is that why I'm feeling this upset?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought I was doing better? If I were doing well, is it normal to still feel upset?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This person has been on my mind of recent. Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that maybe it's just part of PMS because I'm having my period. So, maybe it is? Time will tell?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's these words that been wanting to come out of my mouth recently. I miss you... But everytime I'm about to say it to myself, I find myself questioning myself again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it you that I miss? Am I sure if it's you that I miss? Or is it the memory? Or maybe it's the love and support and that temporary security that person used to give that I miss and not the person itself....?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because the person is probably a different person now. And perhaps... there's that little fear in me. That, that if I were to miss the person, at the back of my head, that person doesn't even remember me. As I am probably just a distant memory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've built up walls within myself and from people around me for past few months. It's the reason why I'd stopped blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But with holding everything in, it makes me more weaker. I forgot what it feels like to let go of my emotions and set them free as words. That relief it gives whenever I talk about my emotions... Like how I'm feeling right now.&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/8246083968343305551-6634055184083523165?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6634055184083523165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6634055184083523165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6634055184083523165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6634055184083523165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/04/resemblance.html' title='Resemblance'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1240765252719216675</id><published>2011-04-24T02:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T02:31:39.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Alive, Duh! :)</title><content type='html'>It's been a while, hasn't it? :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've left this blog unattended for a reason. I never said I'd stop blogging, have I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many things inside my brain that I wish to write down but I can't seem to point one to talk about first. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been months, hasn't it? Four, or more... Yeah. Feels like a year though. Haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's talk about school first. So I'm a Year 2 student now. All praises to Allah that I managed to make it through to Year 2. By right, I wouldn't be able to make it through to year 2. Really. With the amount of absence I had last semester, trust me, I shouldn't be in Year 2 by right. But that has passed so Alhamdullillah, I'm in Year 2! ^.^&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's just a week of Year 2. New classmates. I've got a feeling these bunch of people are gonna be nice people. Competitive though. 'Cause there's a couple of smart ones in my class. But I hope they're gonna be nice. &amp;lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was announced that there'd be a project for this semester on e the first day of school itself. Yeah, right. It just, JUST, had to be on the first day of school, right? Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, for the past 4 months or more that I've stopped blogging, so many things have been going on. Well, atleast, in the inside of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm still picking up the pieces in my life. Trying my best not to repeat the mistakes I've made through out my life and ofcourse, picking myself up from the fall. I'm still mending things in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd be lying to say that I've gotten over the incident as a whole already. It still affects me on some rare occasions. It still hurts once in a while. I still miss those times once in a while. But I'm doing better than I used to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't expect it to affect me that bad. Maybe it's a whole different environment now that I experienced that but anyways... Bet you don't understand what I'm saying right? Haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I feel that I've become a different person. Like somehow, that person I used to be was destroyed. I used to be... 'muchier'. Yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frankly, I barely know myself now. Feels like I've lost myself in the midst of that whole thing. Amazing right how one person have the ability to destroy another's self? Moving on...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's still so much that I want to talk about. But I can't seem to remember. It's all in a mess. Haha. Perhaps I'd blog about it again, soon I hope? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really missed blogging. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1240765252719216675?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1240765252719216675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1240765252719216675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1240765252719216675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1240765252719216675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-still-alive-duh.html' title='I&apos;m Still Alive, Duh! :)'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7483599842492642224</id><published>2011-01-26T01:29:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T01:31:06.311+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's For Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;"Here’s to all those girls who used to be his number one. The ones who waited all night for him to call, only to check her cellphone the next morning and be disappointed. The ones who made it through that bitter break up, dried your own tears, and moved on with your life, only to have him walk back in it months later like nothing ever happened. Those of you who cried on the first day you talked again because you knew exactly where this phone call was going. The ones who listened to him say, I only want to be your friend, one day, and the next, listened to him say how much he loves and misses you. We deserve something, and this is our tribute.Here’s to the ones that took him back, hoping that maybe this time, he was different, hoping that maybe people really do change. We listened to our friends tell us that we were stupid for even thinking about giving him another chance, caught crap from our parents, and even snuck around to see him for while. We went through the great stage with no fights all over again. We started this out thinking it would be just friends, and ended up falling in love with him again. We wanted nothing more in the world than to hear him tell us he loved us too, that even though things were bad in the past, they would be different this time. And when we finally heard it, it was like we were dreaming. This is for us. Here’s to the ones who believed what he said, sat around all over again waiting for a phone call that might come in a few hours, or a few days. Here’s for the tears cried and dried all over again. We wanted so desperately to believe that he was really busy, he couldn’t possibly call us at that moment, or even that he fell asleep early. We trained ourselves to believe the lies because we wanted to believe we had found the one for us. We learned to SETTLE for someone who didn’t treat us the way we should be treated. Here’s for the ones who did their hair and make up and put on their prettiest earrings, only to hear him say that he couldn’t see us today. The ones who never believed it when people told us there might be someone else. We just couldn’t believe that he could do this to us again. This is for those great girls, who loved him more than words can say, and took him back no matter what happened last time because they couldn’t bear to look back on their lives one day and wonder “what if”. This is for the girls that stayed up all night long listening to him whine about an ex girlfriend who cheated on him, and cried during the entire conversation. The ones who hoped he would realize that he deserved better, that he deserved us. When he said that he loved you, but he was in love with her, he didn’t mean it. This is for the ones that held on to something that was never there to begin with. This is for us girls, who somehow managed to get him to forget about her, and get him to tell us that he was in love with us again, only to have him tell us three weeks later that “things were going too fast, he needs time.” Here’s to the girls who couldn’t cry to their friends because of how stupid they felt. The ones who held it all in when things came crumbling to pieces again. This is for the ones who couldn’t bear to even tell their mom what was going on, for fear of an “I told you so.” The ones that could just TELL that they had made a mistake ever allowing him into their hearts, and their dreams again. We knew that we deserved better the entire time, that we deserved a guy who would call when he said he was going to, one that would come see us whenever he got the chance, one that would really care about us. We just wanted the one that we loved like that. Here’s for the ones that FINALLY realized that he never gave a crap about them. Here’s for the time that he broke your heart again. This is for those days spent trying to hold back the tears, and the tears that turned into anger, then disappointment. Here’s for us girls who finally realized that we deserve better. This is for those confusing days, when you miss him, and want nothing more than to hear his voice, or feel his arms around your waist. Stay strong, and remember that relationships are like broken glass, sometimes it’s better to leave it alone rather than try to put the pieces back together and get hurt. Remember the times you cried, and how long it took you to even be able to look at another guy like that. When “your song” comes on the radio, turn the station. When the day comes that he realizes what a mistake he made and tries calling, turn your phone off. When he tries coming to your house, don’t answer the door. Think of the broken promises, and the lies, the manipulation and the tears, the wasted moments and staying up all night wondering where the crap he was. Think of how your heart used to jump when your phone would vibrate in the middle of the night, and how it fell to your stomach when you saw it wasn’t him, and realized that once again, he hadn’t called when he said he was going to. One day, you’ll find a guy who’s worth all the tears, but he won’t make you cry. You may think that you’ll never care about someone like you did that guy that you always ran back to, but you will. It’s gonna hurt like crap, and it’s going to need time to heal, but the point is, it will heal. This is for those girls, who fell back in love with a guy, only to get hurt all over again."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Tumblr&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7483599842492642224?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7483599842492642224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7483599842492642224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7483599842492642224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7483599842492642224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2011/01/heres-for-me.html' title='Here&apos;s For Me'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2096488863185459083</id><published>2010-12-28T03:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T21:02:03.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Ask</title><content type='html'>I've learned to keep my thoughts to myself because people will judge you eventually. I may express myself through Twitter or Tumblr but no one, absolutely no one, will understand.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've learned that in this world will turn their back against you. Even if it's the people you least expect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've lived up to my 2010's resolution; to not care for those who don't care for myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's very rare you find people who'd really listen to you and not start talking about their own problem when you're telling them yours. If you come across those people, treasure them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't ask me anything, because I don't wish to talk about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2096488863185459083?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2096488863185459083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2096488863185459083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2096488863185459083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2096488863185459083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/12/dont-ask.html' title='Don&apos;t Ask'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5628178845898744566</id><published>2010-12-17T23:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T00:39:08.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Self: He's Just Not That Into You</title><content type='html'>This has got to stop for me. It's the new year's soon and I can't bring this negativity to my new year.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If you love somebody, set them free. If their yours, they'd come back."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've set you free uncountable times and you keep coming back. But right now, all your actions have proven me that you're just not into me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What can I do about that? To my opinion, nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there's nothing else for me to do but just suck it all up and bare the pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I want to be the exception. Not the rule." -Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5628178845898744566?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5628178845898744566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5628178845898744566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5628178845898744566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5628178845898744566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/12/note-to-self-hes-just-not-that-into-you.html' title='Note to Self: He&apos;s Just Not That Into You'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4718458699790286155</id><published>2010-12-07T23:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T00:01:55.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't express my apologies towards you. All I know is that I'm very sorry for my behaviour towards you. I wish things would go back to how they were a month or two ago. When things were right, when things were easy, when it was all smiles, majority of it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know there's nothing I can do to make things right anymore. Tell me, what can one do when a person tells you he can't stand you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really thought this time, things will be right. But I thought wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really love you, and still do but silence means consent, then it means that whatever I said to you was being agreed upon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really sorry for the things I've done. I don't wish for things to end but I can't do anything to make things right anymore, can I? If there is a thing I could do to make things normal, I would do, please tell me if there was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry. I love you. Take care okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promised you I wouldn't disturb your life any longer. I'll try not break this promise. I don't know if I've ever broke a promise I made to you but I know in my life, I've broken promises. So I'd try my best to not break this promise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/8246083968343305551-4718458699790286155?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4718458699790286155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4718458699790286155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4718458699790286155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4718458699790286155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-cant-express-my-apologies-towards-you.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2288989364741914819</id><published>2010-12-04T03:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T03:37:43.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2288989364741914819?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2288989364741914819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2288989364741914819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2288989364741914819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2288989364741914819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-not-okay.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2913594933057558818</id><published>2010-11-20T02:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T02:53:13.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Do I deserve this?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you deserve me?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2913594933057558818?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2913594933057558818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2913594933057558818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2913594933057558818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2913594933057558818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/11/do-i-deserve-this-do-you-deserve-me.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1996889608749559780</id><published>2010-11-12T21:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T22:02:11.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Should I Stay or Should I Go?</title><content type='html'>You said you're gonna make things right this time for me. I'm getting more convinced that you don't have what it takes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stop wasting my time. I don't need all these rubbish. I don't need all these negative vibes around me. I don't need to feel mad, upset, hurt all because of you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In case you aren't aware, things haven't been right for me. I've been contemplating on whether to stay or leave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have feelings for you, no doubt. I'd plan my timing, sacrifice my time to do what I wanna do just so I can see you. Why? Because I'm stupid enough to priortise you. It's because you mean something to me. Not just something but so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really don't want to hold on something that wouldn't seem right to me. I want something real, I want something that doesn't require me to feel stupid. Something that doesn't need me to ponder upon or have second thoughts about. Something that can assure me, gurantee me. Something I can stand firm on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In fact, every girl wants to feel that; like she knows there's nothing to worry about in her whatever relationship that she has with the guy in her life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1996889608749559780?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1996889608749559780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1996889608749559780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1996889608749559780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1996889608749559780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-said-youre-gonna-make-things-right.html' title='Should I Stay or Should I Go?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5178655898470300107</id><published>2010-10-31T01:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T01:40:17.299+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here for an update.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week, I think I've been very perangai. I absented myself from school for two straight days. Hmm. So in total, I've absent from school for four times. And it's like what? First few weeks of school? I guess I better not absent myself any longer unless I really need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing much happened actually. Just that I've been spending so much of my time with my epic loverboy. Why epic? Not because he's literally epic. :P I'm more epic than him okay, please! Hahaha! Just kidding. But it has nothing to do with epic-ity literally. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel blessed lately. My grandparents came down today to pay a visit. I have that epic guy in my life to stand by me. I have a brother who gets on my nerve all the time. I have a lovely Mom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what else to blog about. But, I know very well, that epic boy, has got me. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I end this post, I really hope to hang out with E25H soon. Like go out somewhere with almost everyone there. Alot of us have been busy so yah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing else to say I guess. Write soon. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5178655898470300107?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5178655898470300107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5178655898470300107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5178655898470300107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5178655898470300107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/here-for-update.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7800510665865036594</id><published>2010-10-23T16:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T15:12:50.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Date slash Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TMKdISFaPaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/UpUb27J-tL8/s1600/lifeasweknowit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 273px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TMKdISFaPaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/UpUb27J-tL8/s400/lifeasweknowit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531156057983434146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I caught this movie yesterday after school with... (Let me see what I shall address him) Member. Hahahh. He's not a friend, neither my boyfriend. So he's my member. HAHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie was nice. But it didn't move me to tears. There was one part I nearly cried but my tears didn't fell or my vision didn't get blurred by tears. Hmm. So to me, i wasn't really a great movie. Nice movie but not great. The Last Song managed to make me cry so it was better than Life As We Know It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spending time with E25H mostly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my new class, E37Q, they're okay. Everyone's starting to talk to each other so the class isn't like a graveyard anymore. HAHAHAH. Yes, it was so quiet to me that I felt like I was in a graveyard despite the fact that I've never been to the graveyard for the whole 17 years of my life. Ironic much? Hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't hand in yesterday's rj. I'll prolly be getting a D. It was due 8 am this morning and when I reached home yesterday at 10.30+, I was dead beat. Hmm. I sense I could've gotten an A for the lesson though. Such a waste. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7800510665865036594?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7800510665865036594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7800510665865036594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7800510665865036594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7800510665865036594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/movie-date-slash-update.html' title='Movie Date slash Update'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TMKdISFaPaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/UpUb27J-tL8/s72-c/lifeasweknowit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6627155838466142470</id><published>2010-10-17T00:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T00:54:08.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, I'm Wishing and Praying Things will Turn Out Well Soon</title><content type='html'>I don't know what I should do, what I should say or what I should feel anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost. I'm in a mess. bring me back to 15 April 2010, please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, by the end of the month, where will I be? What would life be like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need Him, The Almighty. I've strayed from him for too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom told me that if your life's in a mess, He's testing you. He's testing you because He wants you to remember Him. Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find my inner peace. I need to find reasons to whatever that's happening in my life. I need to stop talking and start doing. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idk why, I think I miss Dad. I miss the Dad I had when I was a lil girl. Dad, please change and be a father. Despite all the things I feel or say, you're still my dad and I love you. Maybe at the back of my head, there's this thought that if I had dad around, I don't need any other guy. I don't know. My mind's really hard  to understand. So I don't expect to understand it. *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, good night people. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6627155838466142470?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6627155838466142470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6627155838466142470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6627155838466142470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6627155838466142470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/hi-im-wishing-and-praying-things-will.html' title='Hi, I&apos;m Wishing and Praying Things will Turn Out Well Soon'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2677328950439063682</id><published>2010-10-16T14:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T14:47:20.388+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;I'm defeated. I really am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please save me. I am at my wit's end. I don't know if I can take it. :'(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2677328950439063682?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2677328950439063682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2677328950439063682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2677328950439063682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2677328950439063682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-defeated.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-175030210814589180</id><published>2010-10-14T12:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T12:59:07.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in class. I just came back from the toilet. I just cried. I couldn't take it. I wish I'm still in e25h. I really need hugs from Mummy, Aifaa, Sha, Mel, Raudha, Maziah, Yvonne. :'(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like partialling. This is torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still sobbing. I don;t know what to do. :'(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-175030210814589180?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/175030210814589180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=175030210814589180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/175030210814589180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/175030210814589180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-in-class.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-270311176570072492</id><published>2010-10-05T18:27:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T22:48:26.867+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices Have Consequence</title><content type='html'>My previous posts really shows that my emotions are in a mess, my life's in a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before this, I blogged about how simple things are and that simple things in life are the ones that make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 1, my life is no more longer as simple as it is. Number 2, no simple things = not happy. Get that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we actually have a choice to make our lives simple. And other times we also have a choice to make lives of others around us simple too. But nooo. we still choose the other option which is to have life the complicated way. What do we call these type of people? Stupid. And who's an example of these kind of people? Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to get myself out of this mess but I don't know how. I've choices, a few of them. But when I want to make a choice, I think of the consequence behind it. Why? Because I was taught in secondary school enrichment classes that "Choices have Consequences".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like what was taught in poly in Cognitive module, to every solution to a problem, there is limitations. So when I think of making a choice, I think of the consequence behind it. Afterwards, I list down the pros and cons of the consequence, being it is good or bad. So finally, I weigh them and I will find the most suitable solution even though it is not perfection. In other words, I've to choose the second best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was taught well, wasn't I? I am so ready for school, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? I still can't decide what I actually want right now. So much for being taught well when I can't apply all those things to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to go to school, meet friends, use my brain, meet new people and learn different types of people in this Earth's surface. I need to get out of here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then, I'll decide later. Some things take you a longer time to decide right? Like buying a house or selling a plot of land. (I really think RP has thought me well. Well, the facis atleast.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then, I'll live with all this because I chose to delay my decision so I have to bare with the consequences accompanied by the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't understand this post? If you don't and you intend to go RP, maybe you should read again. Hahahah. Just joking. If you read this post and you don't understand, you can just press Alt and F4. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-270311176570072492?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/270311176570072492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=270311176570072492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/270311176570072492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/270311176570072492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/10/choices-have-consequence.html' title='Choices Have Consequence'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8673863923084381619</id><published>2010-09-28T18:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T19:15:30.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If It's Not You, Then It's No One</title><content type='html'>It's not the time where I find someone new. It's not the time where I get myself involve with relationships. I am happy with where I am; being single, not finding anyone new but just... having memories with me, having my friends around and... having you around on and off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that it's not the time for me to open up myself to anyone new because it's the time for myself to really spend my time with friends and myself especially. It's the time for me to do some soul searching to really find out who I am, what is it that I want in life and treasure the people around me that are present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I've lost myself in the midst of being insecure and all that has happened for the past year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth to be told, I don't want to meet anyone new for now. Frankly, I'm lazy to entertain anyone new, telling them who I am, explaining why things are like this and that in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy enough to have you in my life on and off. I only want to entertain texts from you. But for now, things that are present meantime are at its best. I don't need anyone new. I don't want anyone new. I just want time for myself, time with my closest girl friends, my friends and... you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want any relationships because it's just not meant for me. I don't want to receive any texts from anyone new because... I just want those from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still waiting for a text from you. But if there's no more longer any texts that I'd be receiving from you, inform me. Don't leave me hanging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, if it's not you, then it's no one. Simple as that. Simple things in life are the things that make you happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8673863923084381619?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8673863923084381619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8673863923084381619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8673863923084381619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8673863923084381619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-not-time-where-i-find-someone-new.html' title='If It&apos;s Not You, Then It&apos;s No One'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-141131329200139242</id><published>2010-09-24T19:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T19:11:07.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;When will things change?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been baring all these nonsense for 7 years. I don't give a damn if I had to move out of here. It's doesn't matter anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-141131329200139242?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/141131329200139242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=141131329200139242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/141131329200139242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/141131329200139242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-will-things-change-ive-been-baring.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3735177286985025471</id><published>2010-09-22T22:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T22:54:24.447+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updateeee!</title><content type='html'>It's been a while, hasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm. As you can see my previous posts has been rather.. emotional. Hah! But yeah. Always have that moment. Fact is, I am an emotional person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I guess all that feeling down is over for now. Well, to be precise, feeling down over a guy. Psh. This is sooo typical of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I missed raya outing with my poly friends. Due to some reasons. It's not just because of one pathetic reason. It's not as if I purposely want to miss it. It's not as if my mom is like other moms out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. So this Saturday would be raya outing with my Secondary school mates. I'm really looking forward to it. From the looks of it, I may have a chance to go. But I don't want to confirm that I'm going, afraid I might disappoint anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my blog needs a new blog skin. Working on it currently. Well, actually I worked on it 2 days ago but then I got lazy. Lol! HAHAHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be more hardworking yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in case you don't know. I'm in love. And I doubt this guy would disappoint me, ever. HAHAH. Here's him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TJoV5l9TCqI/AAAAAAAAALc/E07g87bNuPo/s1600/16084F144C1249989320C6_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TJoV5l9TCqI/AAAAAAAAALc/E07g87bNuPo/s400/16084F144C1249989320C6_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519748372481903266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choi Minho from SHINee. ♥♥♥ &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(taken from weheartit.com)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not talked about this. I'll talk about it some other time. Meanwhile, I'll just briefly say this. I've declared myself a Shawol (fan of SHINee) since a month or so... And I fell in love with this guy. His personality, to be precise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I never thought I'd be a fan girl. I never was actually (as in general; any artistes), come to think of it. What more for SHINee? Hmm. Hahahha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not that Kpop thing just yet. I only love SHINee and I don't intend to be in the Kpop thing (What do you call them actually? HAHAHA). I don't have anything at all against Kpop. I like their music but I prefer songs English songs cause I can sing along to it understand them. HAHAH! But reallyyy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3735177286985025471?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3735177286985025471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3735177286985025471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3735177286985025471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3735177286985025471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/updateeee.html' title='Updateeee!'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TJoV5l9TCqI/AAAAAAAAALc/E07g87bNuPo/s72-c/16084F144C1249989320C6_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1229380451908434009</id><published>2010-09-16T22:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T22:58:40.381+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fool For You</title><content type='html'>I'm a fool for you. Stop playing games with me, please? I beg you. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've lost myself. I don't know who I am anymore. Worse, I'm no more longer happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna spend time with Sue, Syiqs and Atq and have a great laugh with them. I really miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1229380451908434009?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1229380451908434009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1229380451908434009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1229380451908434009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1229380451908434009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/fool-for-you.html' title='Fool For You'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6549344658679368073</id><published>2010-09-14T00:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T00:05:21.332+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell Me</title><content type='html'>Tell me. What does it takes to forget someone completely? What does it takes to remove that person from your heart, completely?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Dyou have the answer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;No, this is not an angsty post. I was just wonderinggggg~&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/8246083968343305551-6549344658679368073?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6549344658679368073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6549344658679368073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6549344658679368073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6549344658679368073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/tell-me.html' title='Tell Me'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6657686209591286088</id><published>2010-09-13T00:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T00:47:48.315+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sorry for the angst-y posts. I shall post a not so angst-y post one of these days. :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bye. Tomorrow last paper for UT3! Mathssss! I didn't studyyy! I am so screwed but I'm in holiday mood alreadyyyy. Okay byeeee! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6657686209591286088?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6657686209591286088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6657686209591286088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6657686209591286088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6657686209591286088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-sorry-for-angst-y-posts.html' title=''/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6955204316097096779</id><published>2010-09-11T00:58:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T02:17:50.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dammit!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Dammit, make up your mind will ya??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you wanna leave, just fucking leave will ya??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stop being indecisive or a fickle-minded &lt;i&gt;bitch&lt;/i&gt;. Fickle-minded guys are insecure. How the fuck are you gonna make a girl feel secure when you aren't secure yourself?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you don't know what you want, I shall decide it for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're gonna stay put at where you're at now, with almost zero effort, I suggest you should just get the fuck out of here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things had been so easy for you all these years, hasn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've changed. I want a guy who would fight for me. Who'd really show me that he wants me, he wants to talk to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In case you don't know, talk is cheap. In case you don't know, talk is cheap means words don't prove much. if you really mean something, do something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dammit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My gawd, bingit tahap maksima siol!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6955204316097096779?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6955204316097096779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6955204316097096779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6955204316097096779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6955204316097096779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/dammit.html' title='Dammit!'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8060082407156546292</id><published>2010-09-09T23:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T23:41:11.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Minal Aidil Wafa' Izin</title><content type='html'>To all Muslims, here's wishing you Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had said things or did things that may have offended one or another, here's my sincere apologies. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;Salam Lebaran!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8060082407156546292?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8060082407156546292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8060082407156546292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8060082407156546292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8060082407156546292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/minal-aidil-wafa-izin.html' title='Minal Aidil Wafa&apos; Izin'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8732355340797216184</id><published>2010-09-09T23:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T23:40:25.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>I'm confused. I don't know what's right or what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many things going on my mind. My heart's telling me this and that but I've no clue which I should listen to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm facing a battle between my heart and head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling I should do this and that but I'm rationalizing with myself what may happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8732355340797216184?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8732355340797216184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8732355340797216184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8732355340797216184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8732355340797216184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/losr.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8577895092477557505</id><published>2010-09-09T00:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T00:40:31.901+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Get the fuck out of here'/><title type='text'>GTFOH</title><content type='html'>When you you've exited my life, please, really do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't get what I'm tryna say, it's simply...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Get out of my life. For real. And please don't come back, ever. Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Even in my dreams. But not to worry about that 'cause you don't appear in them anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8577895092477557505?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8577895092477557505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8577895092477557505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8577895092477557505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8577895092477557505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/gtfoh.html' title='GTFOH'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5680471079899008160</id><published>2010-09-02T20:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T20:01:20.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stereotypes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I think at 17, I know a few things here and there that some girls at  my age still don’t know. Or even those older. Not that I’m saying just  for the sake of saying but from observation. Talk is cheap but what  people say is also a method to find out something isn’t it?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Some people won’t be able to understand why some people behave in a  certain way, why they think in a certain way, feel, talk, judge and not  forgetting how they react in a particular way.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It all boils down to what they’ve experienced, what they’re taught and the people around them.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My point is, people these days are really judgmental. To put it in a rude way, stereotypical.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;People tend to not think of other possibilities for a certain outcome/situation.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I’m gonna give a vague and biased example. For example, if a man is  very hot tempered, he is a bad person and people should stay away from  him. True?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;That is probably true, but what lies beyond, do we know? Who are to  judge that? Have we enough evidences to prove that he really is a a bad  person?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I don’t think so that the man who is hot tempered is a bad person. he  may be hot tempered but who knows that he has problems for being that  way. Perhaps he has the weight of the world on his shoulders which is  causing him so much pressure that he turns out to be that way? We won’t  know. He may be a hot tempered person but who knows he is prioritizes  his elders or maybe he is a family man?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We won’t know right?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I came across a statement which affects me perhaps not directly but  of course, I would feel slighted. I’ve got feelings. And in this  situation, it was a mistake that I did. I’ve learned from it so that’s  just it. I am human, I am full of flaws. But that doesn’t make me the  same as the statement made by that certain someone.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;There is a reason for everything that happens. For this, I know what’s the reason because that it was I who went through it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Anyway, just wanted to say that most people are very judgmental and  usually what is judged isn’t a fact. Just wished that people were more  open-minded.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5680471079899008160?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5680471079899008160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5680471079899008160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5680471079899008160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5680471079899008160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/stereotypes.html' title='Stereotypes'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8533420610185181826</id><published>2010-09-02T00:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T00:27:47.552+08:00</updated><title type='text'>_|_</title><content type='html'>I'm not that stupid. I know non-verbal communications. Atleast, I have an instinct. And trust me, my instincts never disappoint me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8533420610185181826?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8533420610185181826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8533420610185181826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8533420610185181826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8533420610185181826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title='_|_'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-164969744828168973</id><published>2010-08-31T00:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T00:34:45.189+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WHAT DOES IT TAKES TO BE HAPPY?&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/8246083968343305551-164969744828168973?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/164969744828168973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=164969744828168973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/164969744828168973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/164969744828168973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy.html' title='Happy'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2357951368935992514</id><published>2010-08-29T02:22:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T02:49:45.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>17's Not A Good Year</title><content type='html'>I'm starting to believe that this year isn't a good year. When I weigh things out, I'm starting to think that last year was actually better than this year. Or maybe equally the same. Hmm.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I give it a thought, I realise that they weren't much good things that happened to me. I mean like those that really make me feel on top of the world. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like last year, Syf was one of the happenings which made me feel life is worth the while, the hard work. Then there was also Sweet Sixteen with Sue, Nana, Soleha, Fit, Yati. And I celebrated my birthday with someone (once) special. Also, I met up Fiz in June; I still had him around like a brother to me. And I remember studying Maths at night at Jurong East's library with Atq, Sue, Syiqs. And also there were times that I hung out with Liy at usual places or even her house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year, things that made me really happy were... Being in the same school as Sue, meeting E25H, Mom recovering. Went to eat with Sue at Seoul Garden. Uhhh, what else?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm. I'm actually very sad today. Extra sad as compared to some other days recently. I feel like telling Sue because she's a very good listener and she know how to 'pujuk' me in some way that I think she's unaware of. As in she knows what to say to make me feel better like that ah. But I think later awkward cause we drifted apart since I started spending time with my classmates. I miss her lahhh. Hmm. Hope to see her soon. I believe I owe her an apology for not going home with her for sooooo long. :/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I don't feel this year is a good year because there aren't much things that go my way. I feel that I don't have a life because I don't laugh alot like last year. I'm a people-oriented kinda person so being with friends especially make me feel happy. This year I feel like I've not much friends. It's like, in RP, I only know 25 people in my class and 4 or 5 people outside class... which I don't talk to. Hmm. I feel so.... friend-deprieved? Mehhhh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like in secondary school, you'll change to Humans class, then to Mother Tongue then when changing classes, your friend's along the corridoors from other class will approach you, will joke around with you. It's much more lively in secondary school. Now's so mundane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Enlightened* Perhaps that's partly the reason why I think I was much more a happier person back then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wrote too much already. Write soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2357951368935992514?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2357951368935992514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2357951368935992514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2357951368935992514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2357951368935992514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/08/17s-not-good-year.html' title='17&apos;s Not A Good Year'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1774082076807304846</id><published>2010-08-27T00:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T00:53:30.687+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Alive</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my YOG break is officially over. But school's not gonna start anytime sooner. I'll be having my UT3 on the week of Hari Raya. Yes, that Monday to Thursday (where Friday is Hari Raya) and the one last "paper" on the Monday after raya. What a bummer right? Yeah, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I've been really busy running errands with Mom, or for Mom or with my bro. other days I'd stay at home and as per usual, become a housewife. Hahah. Yes, story of my life. But sometimes I think I'd rather stay at than to go out. Especially during this fasting month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I've revised almost zilch for my UT3. I am so dead meat, to me. Because firstly, people around me who I'm aware of studying or talking about what they've studied are giving me pressure. This type of pressure is certainly goes good and no good for me because firstly, I'll start be really panic and start reading. That's the good part right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where the not so good part comes in. When I start to panic under this kind of pressure, I'd really p-a-n-i-c. And whatsoever that I'll read, I won't understand. When I don't understand, I keep reading and reading and reading and cracking my brain trying to understand what I'm reading and... *poof* Migraines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha. Very pathetic. I know. I think I'm a very slow and steady kind of person whereas my mom is the fast paced kinda person. That's why we often quarrel. Hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of migraines, lately I've been having migraines so often for no reasons. I'm kinda scared. Am. I. Going to... Die? Hah, Just joking! Drama sikit. HAHHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've yet to buy my raya stuffs. Waiting for Dad. He says he's short of cash this month. Frankly, I find it rather unreasonable because he's always at home and he lives alone. The thing that I'm aware of he needs to pay for is my lappy, his bills- utilities, phone, his food transportation, entertainment, monthly custody fund (is that what you call it? haaaah!) and what else? Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just put it this way, I've got no mood to celebrate Raya this year, frankly. All because of... this. I doubt anyone would understand me. Okay, maybe some of my girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But I'd really love to go out with the Sec 4 Exp Malay people. Really miss those bunch of people. Especially the girls. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'd also really like to go raya with E25H since we're no more longer as a class. (Gosh, I sound so pessimistic. :/)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I shall turn in now. Much love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Wow, really missed blogging. :) )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1774082076807304846?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1774082076807304846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1774082076807304846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1774082076807304846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1774082076807304846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-still-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Still Alive'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2441972991919471485</id><published>2010-08-11T23:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T00:09:00.387+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"What Doesn't Kill You, Makes You Stronger"</title><content type='html'>It's Ramadhan already. :) My first day of fasting was okay I guess. The day started rough but I think it turned out fine. And I am very thankful to have such a good neighbour; Noora's family. I can't thank them much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, I think it's kinda interesting that after breaking my fast, that is just drinking a sip of green tea, I felt full. HAHAHHA. Really, weird right? HAHA, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I don't really like popular guys. I don't like guys that have lots of admirers. Why? Because there's too many eyes on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I really think I believe in the quote "Anything that doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in fact, I think that anything that hurts me, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; make me stronger. Especially recently. I got to find out something recently. I'm confuse about how I should react. Uncertain whether I should be happy for that certain someone or mad 'cause that person has it so easily. But I am very certain that I didn't feel grievous due to a replacement or whatever you call that, nothing of that sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't bothers me that that person is leading his/her life like that. In fact it just makes me wanna prove that I don't need to lead a life like that person to be happy. And all the more I wanna come up as more well to do and independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one year is kinda short for me. To hell if anyone thinks that one year is way too long.  I don't think it's way too long. When it's not the time, it's just not. No use forcing things that won't fit. In this case, no use forcing things to fall at a certain timing when it's not the right timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy that I have friends around me who'd be there for me and who had been there for me. I'm thankful for them. No matter the distance, these people will always have a special place in my heart. And trust me, not many can get to that position. Well atleast not now. I think I used to let people in too easily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2441972991919471485?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2441972991919471485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2441972991919471485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2441972991919471485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2441972991919471485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-doesnt-kill-you-makes-you-stronger.html' title='&quot;What Doesn&apos;t Kill You, Makes You Stronger&quot;'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8203624369900648865</id><published>2010-08-07T01:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T02:04:24.387+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekly Update</title><content type='html'>I think it's been a while, hasn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've not been tweeting much I think. I used to tweet much more than now. I've been spending my time Tumblr-ing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now, it's 1.38am, 07/08/2010, Saturday. I just thought a blog post would be good before I head to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only left with 4 days being with my lovely classmates, E25H. How time flies. Feels like I've just got to know them but in actual fact, we've spent 15 weeks together. Majority of them are a bunch of awesome people. Actually, to think of it, we're all not classmates. We're family. In E25H, you feel the love between us. Especially the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I'd get to meet the same kind or atleast similiar people to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd really be missing Sha and Afiq the most. Followed by Sam, Aifaa, Maziah, Nadhirah, Melissa, Navin, Joshua, Raudha, Yvonne... Basically the ones that are more attached to the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope in the future, we'd remain like how we are now. Like a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's upsetting to know that we're not gonna be together anymore but somehow I am very much happy and glad that I had the opportunity to meet these bunch of people. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my week has been pretty good. Alhamdullilah. I'm really looking forward to the fasting month because it's a very peaceful month for me, always is for me. And what's more, this year's fasting month is during my holidays. But the downside is that I'll have to study for UT3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so know I am so screwed for Maths. Next Sem I'll be taking Maths II. All the more I am screwed. Gah. All the best. But good thing is that for my UT2 results, I managed to get a B for Math. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I've mentioned this before but I think things are getting more clearer for me. I don't wanna be too confident about how things are, afraid the tables might turn. So as for now, I'll just sit back and observe, decipher, analyze what life brings. HAHAHHA. Sounds abit like Cognitive! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Katy Perry's new song, Not Like the Movies, is very much close at heart to me for the moment. Its lyrics are like a reminder to me. I love that song very much, not to mention Katy as well. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;If it's not like the movies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;That's how it should be yeah &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;when he's the one I'll come undone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;and my world will stop spinning &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;and thats just the beginning yeah &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Snow White said when i was young  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;one day my prince will come &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;So I wait for that date &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;they say its hard to meet your mach  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;gotta find my better half &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;so we make perfect shapes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;the stars don't align &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;if it doesn't stop time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;if you can't see the sign &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;wait for it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;100 percent with every penny spent  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;he'll be the one that finishes your sentences.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Extract from Katy Perry's Not Like the Movies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part of the song is the most meaningful for me. I think people should know what it's trying to convey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll stop here. I'll blog soon if I have anything to say or have the mood to do so. Write soon. Much love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8203624369900648865?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8203624369900648865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8203624369900648865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8203624369900648865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8203624369900648865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/08/weekly-update.html' title='Weekly Update'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-422008488700625018</id><published>2010-07-30T18:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T18:41:41.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in Love</title><content type='html'>Hi all! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the title, I'm in love with Katy Perry's latest song on air, Teenage Dream. I seriously loveee her voice. I wish I can sing as well as her. ♥♥♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my point of blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, I'm anticipating for the holidays. I don't know. I think I'm sick of school. Not because of the people there but because of waking up early then travelling there. It's such a chore. Hah, lazeh biatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I've absent myself twice despite getting the warning letter the other time. Heh. I was absent on Wednesday and today. Science and Math respectively. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as much as I want the holidays to arrive, I do not want school to end. Simply because I don't wanna part with my current classmates. They're really fun to be with; my second family. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've not been going home with Sue of late. I wonder how is she. Dear Sue, I miss going home with you. Let's go home together one of these days. With love, Nisa. Hahahah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there's a high chance that I'll get to fast in the first week of Ramadhan. Yayyyy. Me is happyyyyyyyy! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why but I like the fasting month. I don't mind not eating from dawn till dusk for a month. It's not like everyday you don't eat right. And during Ramadhan, you'll have this exceptionally peaceful feeling inside. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why but when I think of the fasting month now, I'm reminded of my secondary school mates. The Malay Express people, to be specific. Don't know why. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my appetite has been rather overwhelming of late. Hmm. I hope I can survive during the fasting month. But I believe I can ah. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, till next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-422008488700625018?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/422008488700625018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=422008488700625018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/422008488700625018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/422008488700625018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-in-love.html' title='I&apos;m in Love'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7434937567238164387</id><published>2010-07-27T22:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T22:51:07.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Many a times recently I've been encountering with not-knowing-what-to-feel situations. I don't know whether I should feel glad, happy or sad or... I don't know. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really think I'm in a mess. I need to find my inner peace. I wanna be stable and in control like how I used to be. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, fasting month's in a few weeks time, about two weeks I think? I really really reallyyyyyy hope that I'd be able to fast when it starts. Cause when you don't fast during the start of fasting month, you won't feel much satisfaction throughout the rest of the months. It's like there's no 'feel' for the special month, Ramadan. Or perhaps it's just me lah. Hahahha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. So today was formal wear for Communication Skills. I don't really feel like blogging though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit at the moment. Few reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7434937567238164387?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7434937567238164387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7434937567238164387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7434937567238164387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7434937567238164387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4891961443570819601</id><published>2010-07-25T23:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T23:48:30.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Week Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TExUUM9qsLI/AAAAAAAAALM/Kg87Uzq9tVQ/s1600/IMG0009.jpgcopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TExUUM9qsLI/AAAAAAAAALM/Kg87Uzq9tVQ/s400/IMG0009.jpgcopy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497861951166525618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, I'm still alive and kickin'. Been a week since I update I guess. I've not been updating due to not bothering to do so. Hahahah. I've not been tweeting much too I think. I've been doing alot of reblogging at Tumblr. Heh. :) Other than that, I'm pretty much occupied with Bejeweled in Fb. Heh. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, lemme see. I think this week was pretty occupied. My mood was pretty fluctuating. Hmmz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I break my own record of not eating rice for five day straight. Heh. I think I can live without rice because I just prefer other alternatives. Like noodles or pasta for example. But, I think life with rice is much better, I think? Hahahahah, such an irrelevant topic. Moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, highlights of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt;- I remember having a replacement faci. Meh. No, don't get me wrong. The faci was okay but I was really looking forward to Shufen's lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;, if I'm not wrong it's this day, I met up with my baby Liy! Oh, yes, confirm it's Tuesday. I was suppose to shop for my formal clothes for Thursday's Enterprise lesson. So I took that opportunity to do it with Liy cum catching up session Liy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so envious when Liy told me what she's learning- Psychology!!! What I wanted. It makes me regret not appealing to SP eventho it wasn't a psychology course in SP that I would've appealed (either Nutrition or to Perfumery course), I would still get to learn Maths in not how I'm learning now. Hah. But when I think again, I don't regret though. If I had appealed, I'm very much sure that my appeal could've been successful, which will then not enable me to meet such great people in E25H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember what happened on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt;- Formal wear for Enterprise. The day was pretty relaxed 'cause there was no presentation assigned to us. The task was easy too. After school, stayed in class with some of the E25H. Talked about superstitions and paranormal stuffs, whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;- Umm. Can't really recall. I only remember I went home with Sha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only met Sue on Monday for this week. That's a record I think 'cause she's like my part-time boyfriend/girlfriend (you choose). Dear Sue, if you want to go home with me, tell me tauuuuu! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm left about two weeks I think with my class? Yea. Hmm. Fast huh? Feels like I just got to know them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I'll be having formal wear again on Tuesday. I'll be going home with my classmates. 'Cause the already booked me. I'm going home alone tomorrow, Monday. 'Cause I want to go home alone. I need space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been happy of late. But I try to shake negative feelings off and put on a smileeee. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll write soon. I think. Much love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4891961443570819601?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4891961443570819601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4891961443570819601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4891961443570819601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4891961443570819601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/week-update.html' title='Week Update'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TExUUM9qsLI/AAAAAAAAALM/Kg87Uzq9tVQ/s72-c/IMG0009.jpgcopy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5200449356373429837</id><published>2010-07-17T03:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T04:09:25.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponders</title><content type='html'>There are too many things going on my mind right now. Just too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to sort them out, talk it out one by one. Too much going on. I can just talk and perhaps I may jump topic to topic. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since then, it's been difficult for me to cry to make myself feel better. They say crying would make you feel better and it really did for me every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could pour out everything's that going on my mind and what's my heart saying with words but I can't seem to. It's going nowhere. I only have time to make things better. Nothing to speed up the process of getting all these pass, not even tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what makes me this way. Is it because I'm too emotionally scarred from all the crying back then that there's nothing to cry for now or is it that I've grown stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think it wouldn't be right if I said I was stronger now. I feel that I'm still the same. THere are some days where I feel I've changed but when my emotional moments strike, I guess I thought wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how memories tend to appear more often when you're distant from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's wrong to say that I've not moved on. 'Cause it feels like I have. But it makes me wonder, if so, why am I still recalling things when there are things that happen now which may associate from the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over all, I'm well aware that I'm not ready to meet someone new. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. It's just that today made me realized that I'm still as insecure, still untrusting and still recalling and talking about things from the past. But above this, I am very sure that there's no feelings of missing the memories or the person. Hmm. So, why? What? Hmm. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been pondering on this since evening. Now, I'm having a splitting headache. I feel like dissecting my head and taking out the cause of the throbbing pain inside my head. But this is a norm I guess? I used to get migraines more often than now. Sometimes the cause of it: thinking too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. Sad huh. If only I used this "skill" on studies, wouldn't it be great? Hmm. Oh wells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will all this end? And I wonder, would praying to get over or forget someone/memories, work? Can you really forget someone/something by just praying? I hope it would.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5200449356373429837?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5200449356373429837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5200449356373429837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5200449356373429837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5200449356373429837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/ponders.html' title='Ponders'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5733476673783841150</id><published>2010-07-15T23:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T00:01:38.302+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Wasn't A Fairytale</title><content type='html'>Life's like a wheel. Some days you're up, some days you're down and other days, you're in between. I guess today's my down day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts inside. I don't know why. Or perhaps I do but I'm in denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days like these sucks most 'cause I feel like crying but I don't know what's the cause of it or why do I want to. I don't wish to hear things I don't want to hear. I don't wish to see things I don't want to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I just wish the world would just shush. I want it to be real silent that the only thing that can be heard is a heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt;You did something that made me still  think you're a nice guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5733476673783841150?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5733476673783841150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5733476673783841150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5733476673783841150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5733476673783841150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/today-wasnt-fairytale.html' title='Today Wasn&apos;t A Fairytale'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3294542954431000017</id><published>2010-07-15T00:46:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T01:48:58.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflect</title><content type='html'>Okay. So I thought my previous post would let me gain my cool but, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, here's the thing eh. I'm very much pissed, mad, upset and disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pissed and mad because you just have to bring up the matter again when it's all over. The. Lesson. Is. Over. Let it go. Upset and disappointed... You wanna know? 'Cause I thought you wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've been going on how irritating you are sometimes with your sometimes ridiculous questions. I can't agree less. I can find you irritating at times with those questions and "not-needed" in a sense that you say unnecessary things at times and always, I still think that there's a side of you that can be admired because I believe everyone has their flaws and something good in them. But seriously after what happened today, I didn't think that you were this bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really thought you were a nice guy. Deep deep down. Perhaps I thought wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really mad because you just have to stall on this matter and bring it up at a social networking site and at the end of the day, I mean literally. Which is more than 6 hours after the lesson ended. It shows me that you actually bared a grudge on this issue throughout the whole time. Knowing you somewhat, you're pretty religious. I thought baring grudges is something that the religion disapproves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True. God gave us humans mouth to use it to ask questions when we're in doubt. She may not have asked questions but you, as the one who knew what was going on during the lesson, did you take the initiative in using your mouth to ask teammates whether or not they understand and whether or not they needed help? I can simply use that sentence you mentioned on you. God gave us a beautiful mouth to ask questions. So did you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if you did ask, was there action done? You need to apply a force on something to get its resultant force right? So if you did something after asking, I believe things wouldn't be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost everyone in the class knows you wanna be the best, Mr Perfect. If you're talking about book smart, okay fine. I can say you get the credits; you're intelligent. But with the way you're acting, it just shows your EQ is close to zilch. So do you think it's a good thing now if you're really smart and are the best?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things in life aren't taught in school. It's instilled in you by the way you're brought up or by yourself- your perspective in life and how aware are you of your surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, I may not be fair 'cause I've yet to hear both stories. But looking on the surface of things, I just think that you could've been more interactive with your teammates and less oblivious towards them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to be rude or whatsoever. I'm just thinking rationally. I'm sorry if I hit a nerve but my intention is to just make you see that she's not the only one at wrong. You are equally wrong also. And posting this mainly because I'm really disappointed and mad at your actions. Not because of you getting mad at her but because you held a grudge on this issue. You could've just be more man and confronted her nicely instead of doing what you did. If you had approached her on this issue and ironed things out, both of you wouldn't be as mad as you are with each other now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps whatever I've said doesn't mean anything to you because I know that you're the type of person who's others' words won't bring you down. It's not that I want to bring you down or anything of that sort. But, just a penny for your thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3294542954431000017?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3294542954431000017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3294542954431000017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3294542954431000017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3294542954431000017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/okay.html' title='Reflect'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-532890070109938160</id><published>2010-07-15T00:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T00:44:14.357+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, That's It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;You know what boy? Fuck it. Yeah, fuck it.&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/8246083968343305551-532890070109938160?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/532890070109938160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=532890070109938160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/532890070109938160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/532890070109938160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/yeah-thats-it.html' title='Yeah, That&apos;s It'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1507082327174543512</id><published>2010-07-10T22:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T22:51:25.075+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Girl Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Girls aren’t going to talk to you first. It’s a girl thing. We don’t  like starting the conversation because we like to feel like you want to  talk to us. We like to feel like the wait was worth something. We like  feeling like you’ve waited for us like we’ve waited for you. But the  number one reason we hate talking first is because we hate to seem needy  or clingy. That’s why we’re scared. Cause to us, being needy and  obsessive just pushes guys away. And no girl wants that."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;-Taken from Tumblr, grapesandstrawberries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1507082327174543512?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1507082327174543512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1507082327174543512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1507082327174543512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1507082327174543512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/girls-arent-going-to-talk-to-you-first.html' title='It&apos;s A Girl Thing'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7849290136288713358</id><published>2010-07-07T21:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T22:13:56.892+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey Me</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty much bored right now. Despite the fact that I've yet to get my rj done, I totally don't feel like doing it. Heh. As always right. Hahahah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's have some get-to-know-Nisa session right now shall we? I mean, you're probably reading my blog to know what's going on with my life and what I'm like. So, here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, My Preferred Type of Guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you need him/her to be good looking?&lt;br /&gt;- He just needs to please my eyes. If he's not cute/good looking to others, it's fine. All the better. Hahah. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Smart?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes, pleaseeee. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Preferred age?&lt;br /&gt;- I don't mind if he's my age BUT he has to be older than me, meaning that his birthday is before June. But I think it'd be even better if he's atleast a year older than me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Preferred height?&lt;br /&gt;- He just has to be taller than me. He must be taller than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. How about sense of humor?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes, please! But at the same time a serious person. Just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. How about piercings?&lt;br /&gt;- None please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Accepts you for who you are?&lt;br /&gt;- Ofcourse! But at the same time tries to change me into a better person. Meaning like guides me in getting rid of my bad habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Pink hair?&lt;br /&gt;- Uh, no. I dislike (not hate but dislike) pink, to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Mushy or no?&lt;br /&gt;- Erm. Not so. Not mushy but sweet and maybe spontaneous. Cause when a guy does things spontaneously, it can be kinda sweet/cute/romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Thin or fat?&lt;br /&gt;- Just right. Abit of muscles. ABIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Black, Brown or White (skin color)?&lt;br /&gt;- I prefer fair guys, actually. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Long hair or short hair?&lt;br /&gt;- Erm. I think short ah. So I can see his face. :) But depends ah on the person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Plastic or metal?&lt;br /&gt;- What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Smells good?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes pleaseeee. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Smoker?&lt;br /&gt;- No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Drinker?&lt;br /&gt;- No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Girl/Boy-next-door type?&lt;br /&gt;- Can ah. I don't mind. But is a bad boy at the same time. As in he has his mischiveous days but overall, he's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Muscular?&lt;br /&gt;- Abit. Just abit built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Plays piano?&lt;br /&gt;- I don't mind if he doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Plays bass and/or acoustic guitar?&lt;br /&gt;- I'd like it if he knows how to play the acoustic guitar but if he doesn't, I'm fine with it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Plays violin?&lt;br /&gt;- Nah, it doesn't matter if he doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Sings very good?&lt;br /&gt;- It's okay if he doesn't. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Vain?&lt;br /&gt;- Nope! I hate vain guys. Because for a girl, I'm just abit vain. Lower than average. So if a guy is more vain than me, it's a no no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. With glasses?&lt;br /&gt;- Why not? I don't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. With braces?&lt;br /&gt;- Don't mind either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Shy type?&lt;br /&gt;- Perhaps. But not to the extent that I have to make all the first moves. Get what I mean right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Rebel or good boy/girl?&lt;br /&gt;- Good boy who have his rebellious days. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Active or passive?&lt;br /&gt;- In between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Tight or bomb?&lt;br /&gt;- Ah? Apa sia? Don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Singer or dancer?&lt;br /&gt;- Sportsman can? HAHAHHA. Dancer is kinda cool, so is  singer. Actually, I don't mind. If he's just an ordinary person, all the more I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Stunner?&lt;br /&gt;- Erm, no. If he's a stunner, so many eyes would be on him. I want him to myself. HAHAHAHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Hiphop?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes, sure! Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Earrings?&lt;br /&gt;- None.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt;Yknow what? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt; passed my criteria checklist. HAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7849290136288713358?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7849290136288713358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7849290136288713358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7849290136288713358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7849290136288713358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-pretty-much-bored-right-now.html' title='Survey Me'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8400983821010712671</id><published>2010-07-06T01:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T01:57:04.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boyfriend can...</title><content type='html'>It's kinda nice to have a boyfriend isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have someone to rant to.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone to play teasing with.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone whom you can put your head when you're in a public transport.&lt;br /&gt;You can hold his hands when either one of your hands is cold.&lt;br /&gt;You can give him the biggest hug ever and when you're in his arms, it feels like nothing in the world mattered and it's as if time stops.&lt;br /&gt;You can have someone to tell 'I love you' with the warmth feeling.&lt;br /&gt;You can go to places that you don't expect to go just because relationships are fun when it's spontaneous.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone to explore new places with you.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone who makes you feel beautiful and loved more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone to text when you're alone in public and accidentally tripped on yourself.&lt;br /&gt;You have someone whom can share with you so many things.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list goes on. You can do so many wonderful things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8400983821010712671?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8400983821010712671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8400983821010712671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8400983821010712671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8400983821010712671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/boyfriend-can.html' title='Boyfriend can...'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7221395125829156145</id><published>2010-07-06T00:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T01:10:53.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk, Jog, Run, Sprint. If I'm Not Wrong.</title><content type='html'>Today was quite a fun day I can say. It's rather productive 'cause I really understood the lesson today. However it wasn't fulfilling 'cause I didn't get to show Faci that I really understood today's problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just talk about the highlights today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in school today we celebrated Peng Yu's belated birthday. Ah, E25H is so full of love. (Y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had Cognitive UT. It was okay I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm. Went home with Sue, as per usual. Headed to CWP to look for earpiece. Then decided not to get there. Instead get 'em at JP. But change plans 'cause Mom called me to be back early. Intended to head IMM to just chill at Macs but ended up at Bukit Batok's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home and I fell asleep. Waking up at 11. Gee. So much for studying for Enterprise eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow, most prolly meeting Nana at JP. Ofcourse with Sue along lah. We actually intended to get earpiece today mah but plan had to be canceled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana is having her Mother Tongue Oral tomorrow! All the best to you darling!!! Wait, I should put it this way: Semoga maju jaya sayangku!!! HAHAHHAH Wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Sue and I were at Macs, we were talking about secondary school life. I really miss dancers especially. Prolly because I spent my last few days/months in secondary school with them and that we grew closer as years passed. I also miss the building. Fyi, the Jurongville building is undergoing PRIME- some upgrading thingy. So the current JVS is not where I had my memories. So yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omgggg. Excited for tomorrow! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt;I like you in that shirt yknow. That shirt you wore today is officially my favourite shirt on you. Does this make sense? Idk, but you get what I mean. Hehe. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7221395125829156145?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7221395125829156145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7221395125829156145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7221395125829156145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7221395125829156145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/walk-jog-run-sprint-if-im-not-wrong.html' title='Walk, Jog, Run, Sprint. If I&apos;m Not Wrong.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6443703539197891426</id><published>2010-07-04T02:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T03:12:40.217+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buck Up, Girl.</title><content type='html'>Just so you know, I've not performing up to my expectations in school. Ever since school reopened, I felt very lethargic and sometimes, lifeless. My thoughts are rather slow. I'm rather quiet in class discussion; like I don't think on the spot like how I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared. And worried. I should have a constant performance in school but it seems it's going downhill. Oh nooooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know myself; I noticed myself to be less participative in class. I used to be focused especially in the first two meetings. Especially for Cognitive and Comm Skills. Enterprise and Science, I was so-so. Maths, it's no surprise I'm not paying attention- Just look at who's the faci. (K, jahat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the facis noticed the change. I know the faci for Comm Skills and Cognitive faci realized, the Cognitive faci especially. Here's the prove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TC-I4BquRCI/AAAAAAAAALE/pEqOt52UZ1w/s1600/cognitive+comment.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 32px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TC-I4BquRCI/AAAAAAAAALE/pEqOt52UZ1w/s400/cognitive+comment.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489756966889604130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of her comments. I got a grade B for this lesson, problem 9. Which shows that I could've done better if I talked more in the first two meetings. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm like that. But I reckon it's because of my sleeping pattern now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sleeping really late. Sleeping in the dawn. The earliest I knock off is at 1.30am.  But I can't help it. I can't seem to sleep earlier. Then this will lead me to having insufficient sleep. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to do something about this. Or else my grades would be at stake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than this sleeping thing, I think there's another reason why I'm like this. Perhaps it's because of me losing confidence in class due to missing a few classes. I feel handicapped especially in Enterprise. They're talking things that I don't know/don't remember. I need to get back on track. I know I deserve this cause I absent myself from school. I bare the consequence fully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just feel so... I don't know how to describe. I'm at one of my phase in life I feel really helpless and restless. I don't know what to do. I don't know what is it that I want. I don't know who I am. I am... unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to fight all these for my grades. Dear Allah, help me through this phase like how you've always did these years. Please make things better for me. Please be my guidance and lead me to the right path. Amin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 3 now. But I think it's okay since tomorrow would be a Sunday. But I'll definitely sleep right after this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6443703539197891426?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6443703539197891426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6443703539197891426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6443703539197891426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6443703539197891426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/buck-up-girl.html' title='Buck Up, Girl.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TC-I4BquRCI/AAAAAAAAALE/pEqOt52UZ1w/s72-c/cognitive+comment.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-73508132144529404</id><published>2010-07-01T00:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T01:49:57.495+08:00</updated><title type='text'>July!</title><content type='html'>It's already July. 7 months passed so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only left 6 or less weeks more with my class. I'm very sure I'll miss them. Today was one of the best days in school 'cause it was full house during our first break. Almost everyone was at the table outside the class eating. (Y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about more personal stuffs. I just feel like talking about this so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me see. It's been a year? Since I had my last "relationship". Yes, it's pretty much difficult to understand what's on my mind when I keep talking about it's been almost a year, before this. It's real complicated. You'd only understand me if you're close to me or have known me long enough to understand what has been going on. But July last year, mid-July, I was out of a relationship, officially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I've been yearning for someone to be there in my life, no doubt. What more a person like me, a sucker for love, can't help but to yearn to have someone special in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that aside. Somehow, sometimes, I'm really proud off myself. Of my perceptions on things and how I react to them. Especially recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these while, when it came to relationships, I never learn. I kept giving in, following my emotions rather than to face reality and think rationally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past one year, I think I've learned so much. All from the people around me. I've understood how my insecurities back then was a pest to the other party and especially how difficult a relationship may turn out if you rush into it and follow too much of your emotions. All those things have made me realized how naive I was back then. But I regret none of it. It's no use regretting I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I must've said I regretted this and that. It was prolly said in a midst of anger. When I'm in a calm state, I look back and think, I realized those mistakes have made my perceptions like this today. But, there's one I really regret. Sue should know who right. And the rest of the dancers. Psycho. HAHAHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But some things in me never change I guess. Like how I believe that there must be a boundary/limit between a guy and a girl. What a guy shouldn't do when he's attached and same goes for a girl. If you do some things to a friend, even if it's a close friend, and at the same time, you do those things to your partner, what's the use of it then? If the only difference that can be made between a normal friend and your partner is just by the three words, it doesn't really matter much to be in a relationship does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above all, I still and will always not believe in cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been yearning for someone especially recently 'cause I see people around me being attached. HAHA, that's not the main reason though. It's just the thought of how nice things would be when you have someone to share your happiness with, you tears with, your daily rants and to know that you have someone there for you. It's nice isn't it? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the same time, I think of the possibilities of how things can turn real sour and draining. All those arguments and whatnot. I'd realize perhaps I'm not fully ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the next you, I hope you'd be a person of somewhat the same wavelength as me. Someone average, like me. Someone who's serious yet flexible, like me. But at the same time has different likings from me and wouldn't mind showing me new things in life. :) So to the next you, when are you going to appear? Next year? Next next year? HAHAHHAHHA, wtf Nisa. I'm just joking okay people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let's hope July's gonna be another month that'll be full of learning experiences and may it be bittersweet. Why bittersweet? 'Cause if things are always sweet, when will you learn? You'd only learn when bad things happen to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, much love. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-73508132144529404?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/73508132144529404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=73508132144529404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/73508132144529404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/73508132144529404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/07/july.html' title='July!'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6200331644359679866</id><published>2010-06-28T00:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T01:05:31.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Book, I need you.</title><content type='html'>I feel that it's been a long time since I blogged. Maybe not, but oh wells. Like I feel the distance between the connection of me and my blog. Okay, wtf am I talking about? Moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much have... nothing to talk about. So school's starting for almost everyone in Singapore tomorrow. Oh, too bad, I don't feel anything 'cause mine started earlier. Heh, bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to step back to the hard ground. My mind, my soul, has been floating everywhere and anywhere. I need to focus! Especially in school! Next week, UT 2's starting. I've been absenting myself from school oh so often. I'm expecting a warning letter from RP anytime soon. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was late a few times already for the past two weeks. No A grades so far. I must make sure I do not get any Ds for this week and the next and the next and... it goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with all theses being said, it's contradicting 'cause I'm still awake at this hour when I should be soundly sleeping 'cause there's school tomorrow. Gosh, Nisa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I promise I'll get my ass off to bed when I finish this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear blog, I love you. Hahahha. Siao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmms. Is it wrong to miss someone whom you rarely/almost never talk to? Like an acquaintance. Is it is it is it? I hope not. 'Cause I think I am so right now. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this week's goal is to try not to get any Ds, focus and work hard in class, brush off distractions and maybe go town with Sue after school on one of the days. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of distractions, you know what's my number one distraction? Yes, my lappy! Hah. It's one main distraction. From this, there's sub-distractions like the net and The Sims 3 inside it. But you know what? One of the sub distraction's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duh, it's The Sims 3. I don't know whaaaat happened and bam, I'm not able to play it anymore. I don't really know what to feel. Pissed, yes. My Sims' family were doing great, just perfect. But glad also. 'Cause it's one less distraction! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I feel that I reallyyyyy need to get a book for myself. I miss reading. Eventhough I never did it often. I just miss reading a book. Sue, let's go to the library one of the days and both of us shall borrow a book. I know you like to read books also. ^^ Heh, siao. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, it's 1.05 am already! Must go to bed! Much loves, hugs, kisses. Okay no, just love. Spread the loveeeee. Okay, merepek. Bye! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6200331644359679866?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6200331644359679866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6200331644359679866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6200331644359679866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6200331644359679866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/book-i-need-you.html' title='Book, I need you.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6363709836926693990</id><published>2010-06-25T22:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T22:18:29.735+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Smiles :)</title><content type='html'>Last night was one of those shitty nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up with the feeling of just finished crying. I know I had a bad dream but I couldn't remember what it was about. But I felt better though. Like I've recovered from the "fall" the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking forward to today. Many reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm. Let's cut it short shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great time in school and after school. After school was with Sue. Late lunch/tea break(?) at Macs. Talking about anything and everything. A lil window shopping then off homeeeee. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanna tell you all that I had a great day. As the saying goes, "In order to see a rainbow, you need to go through a thunderstorm." (Well, something like that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. Much loves. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And to you sir, I know you have no slightest idea. But you really made my day, you made me felt really better after having a bad night. Nice hair cut by the way. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6363709836926693990?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6363709836926693990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6363709836926693990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6363709836926693990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6363709836926693990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/all-smiles.html' title='All Smiles :)'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5928309737007505978</id><published>2010-06-25T00:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T01:20:38.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>It took just one word to bring me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your intention? Haven't you had enough fun hurting me all these years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you consider talking like that as talking to friends, you can kindly leave from my life 'cause I don't talk to my friends, my guy friends, like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People like you make that word over rated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was a boy. Just like what was learned during Cognitive this week, guys don't think alot. Unlike girls, where they would be thinking about something almost every moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's because of that, it takes me this long to recover from the hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you don't mean anything. You probably talk like that to all of your girl friends. But can you atleast use your brain?? I'm your past lover for goodness sake. And please, you know I really loved you. Let me emphasize on the LOVED part. Didn't you know that I used to call you that and only you and ahhh, fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart was pierced when my eyes scanned through that word. Did you just have to use that word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so easy for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really frustrating how things are so easy for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did you make me fall for you so hard? What made me fall for you so hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. Usually when I blog, I'd be feeling better. But it's not helping this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll just have to bare with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken by Sezairi Sezali on repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Secretly, I hope you're feeling like the lyrics of the song Broken by Sezairi Sezali.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5928309737007505978?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5928309737007505978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5928309737007505978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5928309737007505978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5928309737007505978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-7499322164082471073</id><published>2010-06-20T21:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T21:52:05.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Up Junkie? Not So Though.</title><content type='html'>Warning: This post is prolly boring to many. Let's just say it's about make up. So if you're not interested, don't read lorrrr. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday while getting groceries, I went to Watsons first. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get myself a new foundation. But I thought that it was really time to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was contemplating whether to buy the ZA Two-Way Foundation which was on promotion or something. It came in a box. Inside the box was the refill and the casing. The casing's this light pink shade. It costs $20.50. So  I wasn't sure if I should get it. I thought of settling on that. Colour of the casing aside, I know the foundation's pretty good. Then I thought of how it may work on my crazy skin, combination skin. I was also thinking of its functionality. Whereby I'll be using it to school which means it has to be convenient to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yknow I used to have this craze for mineral make up during a period of last year. But it subsided. Because there were new products like the BB Cream (Blemish Balm Cream). I was considering to get that as I thought maybe that would be the solution to my skin problem- the combination of oily and dry skin and sometimes really sensitive (I know right. It's crazy!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I found the BB Cream inconvenient because when I ask the salesgirl(or whatever you call them), she said that you'd have to use loose powder after applying the BB Cream. So leceh can. So, I skipped it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut things short. I didn't get the ZA Two Way Foundation. But! I got myself Maybelline's Mineral loose powder foundation. It costs $25.90 by right. But After discount, it was $20.90 if I'm not wrong. A teeny weeny bit more than the two way foundation- by a few  cents that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've yet to try it though. I hope it's worthwhile. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm, other than that. I finally bought a nude lipgloss. Been wanting one since God knows when. I bought Silkygirl's. Not the 3D Max whatsoever, no. The other one. I tried it and so far I think it's okay. It doesn't have that drying effect like some lipgloss may have. I bought in 'Barely Nude'/ The colour's okay but I think it's not my ideal colour. I want a colour a lil bit darker, just slightly. The downside about this product, I think it's a bit too shiny to my liking. Yup, that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can like upload a vlog on this already. Hahahah. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, update soon. Much loves. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-7499322164082471073?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7499322164082471073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=7499322164082471073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7499322164082471073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/7499322164082471073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/make-up-junkie-not-so-though.html' title='Make Up Junkie? Not So Though.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8007411035821216639</id><published>2010-06-19T23:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T23:28:23.834+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I'll Never Say</title><content type='html'>I've alot to voice out actually. Here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I think about it, I just can't say it out. I don't know what happened to me. I used to blog so openly, expressing anything and everything. But I just can't seem to do so lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'm not the only one experiencing this. Perhaps it's a permanent phase that I'm facing. Perhaps it's part of growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe, it's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually have second thoughts on the things that I wanna post 'cause I'm afraid of what people may think. You know it's not a very nice world out there, especially the cyber world. The cyber world's made up off 99% stereotypes and narrow minded people. I can't deny that sometimes I may be too judgmental too. But I try my best not to be and remind myself that it's human's expression (if I'm reading something written by someone that is) that I'm reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably just that I've become more personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I've rejected some people's request to follow me on Twitter. But I just need the privacy. So far I've rejected only people that are not my gender at the same time not close to me. No, it's not because I'm sexist. It's just because I believe that girls would understand girls better. And also I think I'm more comfortable with girls; due to my family background also. Anyhow, thousands apologies to those people. I hope you understand where I'm going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually my intention of blogging wasn't this. I had no intention to talk about this. It was something else. But I can't remember now. Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8007411035821216639?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8007411035821216639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8007411035821216639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8007411035821216639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8007411035821216639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-alot-to-voice-out-actually.html' title='Things I&apos;ll Never Say'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-9031932153598208054</id><published>2010-06-18T01:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T01:51:44.621+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Written Deep Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBpgkxMf9JI/AAAAAAAAAK8/qbg9A8t0ow8/s1600/gofigure.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBpgkxMf9JI/AAAAAAAAAK8/qbg9A8t0ow8/s400/gofigure.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483801681074320530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-9031932153598208054?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/9031932153598208054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=9031932153598208054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/9031932153598208054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/9031932153598208054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/whats-written-deep-down_18.html' title='What&apos;s Written Deep Down'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBpgkxMf9JI/AAAAAAAAAK8/qbg9A8t0ow8/s72-c/gofigure.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4675753604628716036</id><published>2010-06-18T00:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T00:13:34.111+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:(</title><content type='html'>Dear Sue, I'm really really sorry for the miscommunication today. I love you. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4675753604628716036?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4675753604628716036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4675753604628716036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4675753604628716036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4675753604628716036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title=':('/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3581869622625679449</id><published>2010-06-17T23:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T23:19:19.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Different</title><content type='html'>Hi. I don't know what exactly to say or how to put it, to be specific. But all I know, I've been asking myself 'Why?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it like that? Why is it different when it comes to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have something against me. Come on, if you do, we can just trash things out, face to face. I don't mind. It's much better then making me feel like an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell me, Whaddya want from me? Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm human. I've feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3581869622625679449?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3581869622625679449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3581869622625679449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3581869622625679449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3581869622625679449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/different.html' title='Different'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3868544168759908341</id><published>2010-06-14T15:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T15:40:43.579+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Monday Wasn't Much of A Blue!</title><content type='html'>So today was the first day of school. Let's talk about the good stuffs shall we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Melissa and Maziah a.k.a Mazzy brought presents for me. Thank you very much darlings! :D:D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there was this one part, during lunch break, where Mazzy invited me to the toilet together with Nadhirah and Aifaa. I really did not think of any ulterior motives that may have. (It was abit weird cause I just came back from the toilet minutes before Mazzy asked to accompany her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came back to class, I opened the door, the whole class sang a birthday song to me and Nadhirah. I was so touched and happy lah! THANK YOU VERY MUCH DEAR E25H!!! :D:D:D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was not all. After they finished singing. Both Sam and Afiq knelt down to hand us a sort of plastic container containing a chocolate brownie topped with vanilla ice cream. So cute lah they both!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brownie was bought my dear Sha. So thank you so much to each and everyone of you who made my day. I consider this as my belated birthday celebration eventhough it may not seem much but it really means alot to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take back my words in Twitter saying that 17's the worst birthday I've ever had. Thank you guys. Thank you very very much. I love you guys k! ♥♥♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3868544168759908341?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3868544168759908341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3868544168759908341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3868544168759908341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3868544168759908341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-monday-wasnt-much-of-blue.html' title='My Monday Wasn&apos;t Much of A Blue!'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2471020321201755430</id><published>2010-06-13T21:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T21:48:24.137+08:00</updated><title type='text'>School Begins Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>Hi. So tomorrow's Monday. While most of polytechnic students in Singapore are just beginning to enjoy their holidays, Republic Polytechnic students just ended theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't drag school. I am very much excited to see my lovely classmates. I feel like giving them a hug when I see them but it won't happen 'cause I'm a very shy girl. Hehe. (Yah, some would go like wtf. Nisa, shy? Ehhhh, but I am okay, actually! I try not to be shy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's just me. I always tend to feel nervous on first day of school. Like that fluttering feeling in my tummy. I know, I'm weird. What's there to be nervous about? I also have got no answer to that. It's just... me. Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what else to blog about. My purpose of blogging have been written. So, I'm off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much lovessssss. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2471020321201755430?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2471020321201755430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2471020321201755430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2471020321201755430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2471020321201755430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/school-begins-tomorrow.html' title='School Begins Tomorrow'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2558282581671680072</id><published>2010-06-11T23:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T00:56:26.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>Today is 11 June. Which means it's this girl's birthday, down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBJST22NZpI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2UDkGnKtAhU/s1600/yatiiiiiiiiiiiii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBJST22NZpI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2UDkGnKtAhU/s400/yatiiiiiiiiiiiii.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481534197557192338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to one of my baby girls, Haryati Allahabux, Yati&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;♥. Happy 17th sayang! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, today is another girl's birthday. Which is the owner of this blog. Me! Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to us. I miss her so much. And the rest.  Haiszszszszs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year's birthday wasn't one of the best. Erm. No outing with E25H, no birthday cake, no birthday gift for myself from myself (I always do it every year since idk when) and no birthday wish fulfilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna thank each and everyone who wished me. It made me smile, really. And especially those who remember my birthday because they remember and not because Facebook reminded them. *Gives the stern look* HAHAH I'm joking. It's the thought that counts. If you wished me it means that you made an effort to make me smile on my birthday so I really appreciate it. Thank you! :D:D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a few things. Things that I like but only my tweet peeps will know 'cause I tweeted 'em out and I'm lazy to blog them. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad invited me to catch Karate Kid tomorrow with my bro. But my mom says it's better that I stay at home. -.- Okay, I'll stay at home. Again. Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's just not a good day for me. I feel pissed most of the time. Oh wells. May 17 be a good year. Amin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2558282581671680072?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2558282581671680072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2558282581671680072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2558282581671680072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2558282581671680072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TBJST22NZpI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2UDkGnKtAhU/s72-c/yatiiiiiiiiiiiii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4276946294466899142</id><published>2010-06-09T12:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T12:19:09.637+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Check</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, we don't do things 'cause we're afraid of the possible outcomes. But sometimes when we don't do certain things, we're just stuck with a perception of what the outcome may be. And with that, we don't know what's the real deal. Complicated? Not so to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought by just living things as they are and unsaid, I'd get over if quickly. No, I was wrong. It took me just one text to realize that what I'm feeling isn't the real deal. Truth is, what I thought what I wanted or what I needed, wasn't all along. Well atleast for the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted and needed was the past. When things were alright, all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've changed, everyone has. So what I thought all along was wrong. What I thought that would make me weak and cry was something that ensured and assure me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this post was difficult to understand or maybe you may think I'm talking rubbish, well... That's my whole point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, it's not a post purposely done to fill up my mundane blog. This post makes absolute sense to me. If you're smart enough, you should know what I'm talking about. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write soon. Much loves. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4276946294466899142?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4276946294466899142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4276946294466899142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4276946294466899142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4276946294466899142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/reality-check.html' title='Reality Check'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1563711224898851144</id><published>2010-06-06T23:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T23:27:25.821+08:00</updated><title type='text'>AFI ahfuckit</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to convince myself that I do not care. Nisa, you don't care, do you? Ofcourse you don't. Tsk!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1563711224898851144?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1563711224898851144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1563711224898851144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1563711224898851144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1563711224898851144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/afi-ahfuckit.html' title='AFI ahfuckit'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-5388989359895126924</id><published>2010-06-05T01:32:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T15:02:28.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 17th Birthday to my Bestfriend/Sister, Siti Suhaira</title><content type='html'>Hi. It's 1.32 am when I started this post and it's 5th June 2010. Which meansssssssssssssss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Siti Suhaira Suhaimi's 17th Birthdayyyyyyyy! This jambu girl down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk5AaJcQ_I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KLG3WnOc7qM/s1600/suenvadjfj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk5AaJcQ_I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KLG3WnOc7qM/s400/suenvadjfj.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478973100854625266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sue, I know I've wished you through text,Twitter and Facebook but no harm in wishing at blog also right? ^^ Soooo, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hahahhaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlEAyN3C3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/W_S72IlaFgw/s1600/bdaywishsuetweet.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 25px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlEAyN3C3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/W_S72IlaFgw/s320/bdaywishsuetweet.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478985201943513970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, throughout the years that I've met you, I value each and everyone of them. You were the first person I knew back in secondary school that was joining Malay Dance. (flashbacks to the scene where I asked you which cca you were joining) I still remember how you look like k! So decent and cute. :) Hahahhaha. You're the friend that I can connect well most amongst my secondary school friend. I can talk to you about almost anything. Girls, guys, clothes, dance, nail polish^^ and the list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am very thankful to have met you. Did I tell you how overjoyed I was when I got to know that we'd be going to the same school? Yes! I really wassssss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to let you know, throughout the 5 years I've known you, you've been a great friend. Listening to my rubbish and whatnots. Hehe. Thank you for being there for me. And you always give good advices but too bad, I'm just too stubborn. HAHAHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, till years to come k Sue! Love ya!  *hugs and kisses* :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I was looking for an appropriate picture righttt. Then look what I foundddd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk7kXzxkfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/YEkUu2RAj0c/s1600/MG-8479.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk7kXzxkfI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/YEkUu2RAj0c/s320/MG-8479.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478975917725422066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After-grad nite slash Hafiz Dj's birthday celebration (25th Nov 2009). Sue, rambut aku lawa sia. It's like long and curly and in place. Kening aku pun lawa tapi muka last warning ah. Heh. (sorry ah. aku dah kasi kau fame kat the previous paragraphs. kasi aku chan ok? hahahhaha but kau still lawa as evaaaa. :) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk-LmjmDMI/AAAAAAAAAKE/K4sqb6KKuJw/s1600/IMG-7753.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk-LmjmDMI/AAAAAAAAAKE/K4sqb6KKuJw/s320/IMG-7753.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478978790722243778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towkay Wayang with Malay Dancers slash Earth Hour 2009 (tak ingat date heh). Kau ingat tak siapa aku jumpa on this dayyyyy???? Oh my godddd. Hahahha. Bodoh and buta eh aku! Astargfirullah hal azim! Semoga Tuhan celikkan biji mata aku pada waktu sekarang sehingga akhir hayat. Amin ya rabbal al amin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk_t6EkcTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/Fb4reh_q79g/s1600/IMG-7984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk_t6EkcTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/Fb4reh_q79g/s320/IMG-7984.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478980479588004146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SYF 2009 (April 6th 2009)! Bila aku upload gambar ni, I wonder apalahhhh kau would say eh. Hahaha. Aku tak kisah how I look like in this photo but because we had a great time, I'm sure you did,  and also it was a special occasion so aku upload lorxzxzxz. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlM5fkhNEI/AAAAAAAAAKk/QpNhQpJothw/s1600/IMG-5192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlM5fkhNEI/AAAAAAAAAKk/QpNhQpJothw/s320/IMG-5192.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478994972283843650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CCA Fair 2009 (early-mid january 2009 lupa heh) Sue, gambar ni manisssss. :) Best sia ni. Case lepas performance, lepas makan, amek gambar kecoh-kecoh kat luar Music Room. Gambar semua priceless! Hahahahahha BEST! :D:D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlBJx8JVJI/AAAAAAAAAKU/5L3d6kVfplg/s1600/25546_107062002652864_100000471948306_178438_7636560_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAlBJx8JVJI/AAAAAAAAAKU/5L3d6kVfplg/s320/25546_107062002652864_100000471948306_178438_7636560_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478982057953154194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hantar form at RP slash Seoul Garden (8 march 2010 if i'm not wrong. heh). Hehhh. Muka aku buruk sia like the angle something wrong tapi aku suka gambar ni pasal kita kero. (Y) Hehhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tu je photos yang aku managed to find with both of us inside. Sorry ah your friend tak amek banyak gambar and tak slalu keluar. Mahal ah. HAHAHHAHAHAHH okay, merepek. Aku realise eh, gambar-gambar yang aku amek ngan kau mesti nak kene buat muka buruk eh? Hahahah. Takpe ah. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the last picture is I believe the last we took pictures together. Which meansssss, we must take pictures soon!!! Hopefulle June babies jadiiiiii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you Sue! I hope this post made you smile. :D:D:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-5388989359895126924?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/5388989359895126924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=5388989359895126924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5388989359895126924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/5388989359895126924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/happy-17th-birthday-to-my.html' title='Happy 17th Birthday to my Bestfriend/Sister, Siti Suhaira'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/TAk5AaJcQ_I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/KLG3WnOc7qM/s72-c/suenvadjfj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4895513933131210340</id><published>2010-06-04T01:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T01:42:20.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Forget About Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;"Now everytime I see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt; I pretend I'm fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wanna reach out to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I turn and I walk and I let it ride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby I must confess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were bigger than anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember us at our best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't forget about"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Don't Forget About Us by Mariah Carey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words says what's written a part of my heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4895513933131210340?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4895513933131210340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4895513933131210340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4895513933131210340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4895513933131210340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/dont-forget-about-us.html' title='Don&apos;t Forget About Us'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1116714186111785161</id><published>2010-06-03T21:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T21:14:08.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAHA Nisa is such a difficult word to spell</title><content type='html'>Seriously, is my name that difficult to remember/spell? My short name. Nisa. Is it that difficult to remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean if you misspelled my full name, it's understandable. But to misspell Nisa, that's sad. It's N-I-S-A for pete's sake. Not Nissa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do not like it if someone misspelled my name. And it's not as if I never told you that you've misspelled my name, I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kesian ah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1116714186111785161?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1116714186111785161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1116714186111785161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1116714186111785161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1116714186111785161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/haha-nisa-is-such-difficult-word-to.html' title='HAHA Nisa is such a difficult word to spell'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4384321389209367033</id><published>2010-06-02T22:26:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T23:07:52.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Nisa,</title><content type='html'>Dear Nisa, if a guy made you cry, please drop him. Thank you. Just a gentle reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not that I'm hurt or whatsoever. I don't talk to any guys currently so the probability of me getting hurt is... How much? Zero. (Okay maybe 0.01 due to flashbacks.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been bloghopping some blogs. Majority girls 'cause there are more girls who blog as compared to guys. Anyway, my point is. I understand why some girls just keep holding on eventho they're mistreated. It's simply because of this thing that some people call stupid which is... love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These girls, their girlfriends would keep on reminding them that the guy she loves is not worthy. But, they would still say 'buts...' slash excuses. Until one day either they hit rock bottom or they manage to get someone better, then will they realize that the someone they used to love yet still got mistreated wasn't worth their time or effort. Well, in most cases they will hit rock bottom. By then, it's too late 'cause the damage is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly understand how these girls feel. So that's why I'm reminding myself these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I won't repeat mistakes that I've done all these while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's June already. And in a few days time, I'd turn 17. So for the remaining days of my 16 years old life, I shall reflect on what has happened throughout my 16-year-old life and evaluate which should be kept, thrown etc. (cheh, dah macam kat skola eh. reflect lah evaluate lah. cognitive ah cognitive. hahaahha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, may I be a wiser stronger person. Amin. (cheh, macam apa jeee gitu eh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really missing school. I've learn to treasure school so much now that I'm in Rp, now that I'm in E25H. I've been missing my secondary school peeps like A-L-O-T. Things are different in poly. And also, with knowing that I'm left with only a few months with such awesome people, it makes me treasure school even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E25H, I love you guys. Really. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ermmm. Now that it's holidays, I've been using my lappy alot. To play The Sims 3. -.- I should really cut down on using my lappy. I think my eyesight has worsen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, GSS is ongoing. Great. I'm (almost) broke and I'm not allowed to work. Haishzxz. It's okay. Atleast I've set aside some cash from my daily allowance during school. I think I can buy a dress or two the least? Better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to do something about my hair. I'm itching to cut it. But! I want it to still grow longer. Hmm. Fickle bitxh. Tsk. I feel like going for treatment butttttt it's gonna cost me some cash. I'd rather spend the money on shopping. I think. Hahahaha. Told ya I'm fickle. Heh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye! Much loves. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4384321389209367033?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4384321389209367033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4384321389209367033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4384321389209367033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4384321389209367033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-nisa.html' title='Dear Nisa,'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1410778840687470177</id><published>2010-06-01T01:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T01:28:04.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Name is Wha?</title><content type='html'>Hi, I miss looking at you in person. Bawasnkjbdakjhfjdbf,v,dnvnndafkldanf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait! I miss Liy, E25H, Sue, Nana, Fiz, Syiqs, Atq, Adila, Farah, Syaz, Khairul Arifin, Mifdhal, Fat'hil, Soleha, Yati........... You get the drift right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haishxzxzxzxz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1410778840687470177?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1410778840687470177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1410778840687470177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1410778840687470177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1410778840687470177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/06/your-name-is-wha.html' title='Your Name is Wha?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6319171182154981474</id><published>2010-05-30T00:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T01:11:26.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Term Break?</title><content type='html'>I'm having my much needed 2 weeks break. I really need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've figured out something about my self. HAHA. Well... If I'm starting to absent myself from school often, it means that I need a break from it. This can be cross referred to last year's incident where I often absent myself from school as it was the last year of my secondary school life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was total crap. It didn't mean to make sense. So moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this two weeks, I'd be able to figure out myself and stabilize my emotions. I've to get things straight and right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what is going on inside my head and heart. It's a big mess, a big emotional mess I can say. I'm confused. Yes! That's it, I'm confused! *Enlightened*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's like this. I am very much certain that I've gotten over that person, very sure. I know I don't have any feelings for him. When I question myself whether when I'm feeling sad or feeling calm, I am very much certain that I do not have feelings for that person anymore. I even know that I don't even yearn for... him. (K, this part sounds disgusting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways. However, when I watch those(love) kind of films, I usually get this sharp pain in my chest. The tight feeling in my chest. And the feeling whereby you feel your throat is strained and dry. And your eyes hurt. Why? Because you're forcing yourself not to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially today I was watching the Bollywood movie at Vasantham. In the show, it says that we only love once. So it made me ponder. What if that is really true? What if that's the only one time I'm going to love? And the others, not so love, in a way that I do love them but not as much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Butttttt. I came across something in Twitter which mentioned something which somehow disagrees to it. So, I really hope the one in Twitter is true. I choose to make it true. So that the next person that I love, whoever you are, will be loved as much as how I loved the previous person. HAHAHHA. But, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 2 weeks. What are my plans? I think basically, I need to spend more time with my family 'cause I've not been so due to school. But actually, I'm not a family-oriented kinda person. But I can't do much, can I? It's a responsibility. You just have to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll prolly have some me-time. I must ensure that I always have me-time during the hols. Erm. I've not been reading of late. I really need to. So prolly visit the library one of the days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm taken on my birthday. By E25H. They're having a class outing on that day. I don't know if I can make it on that day. No promises. But hopefully I would so. I'm already missing my darlings. So fingers crossed. InsyaAllah, nothing gets in the way. Amin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think it's overdue for a meet up with Liy. Miss her so much. This girl eh, please update your blog. I don't meet you often so please let me read about your life atleast I know how you're doing. Tsk. Hahahha.♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this blog is long enough to make up for my short posts. I think I've mentioned this before but I'll mention it again anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been updating due to Twitter. I've been tweeting more than usual. But now that I've The Sims 3 in my lappy, I gues I won't be tweeting much either. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much loves. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-6319171182154981474?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6319171182154981474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6319171182154981474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6319171182154981474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6319171182154981474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/term-break.html' title='Term Break?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2828533590048156991</id><published>2010-05-27T14:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T14:55:14.751+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Babi</title><content type='html'>I was pretty much happy today until you piss me off. Irritating much. Perangai stopit siak! Tsk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2828533590048156991?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2828533590048156991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2828533590048156991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2828533590048156991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2828533590048156991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/babi.html' title='Babi'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-6674915892467702201</id><published>2010-05-24T22:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T22:08:34.604+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yknw?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/S_qILk6ORMI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ug6zCIKOzhc/s1600/I+really+likeyou,+yknw.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 465px; height: 237px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/S_qILk6ORMI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ug6zCIKOzhc/s400/I+really+likeyou,+yknw.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474838029490078914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8246083968343305551-6674915892467702201?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/6674915892467702201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=6674915892467702201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6674915892467702201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/6674915892467702201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/yknw.html' title='Yknw?'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwIu3qyI4qE/S_qILk6ORMI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ug6zCIKOzhc/s72-c/I+really+likeyou,+yknw.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3257500473599711315</id><published>2010-05-24T08:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T08:34:50.494+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile Please Nisa. (:</title><content type='html'>I've been a week gloomy, upset and whatever you call it. A week's enough. This week's gonna be an awesome week 'cause I want it to be so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be happy. I can sense it. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much loves people. ♥♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3257500473599711315?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3257500473599711315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3257500473599711315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3257500473599711315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3257500473599711315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/smile-please-nisa.html' title='Smile Please Nisa. (:'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4977267468588599768</id><published>2010-05-23T02:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T03:19:36.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teenage Angst</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, I forget that I have a life and that I am a teenager. School, family commitments. Sometimes, I just wanna say "FUCK OFF!" to these things. Like now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be pretty, I wanna be happy, I wanna wear nice clothes, I wanna have nice hair, I wanna wear make up without looking like some whore and go out and flaunt the sexiest smile to whoever is cute/pretty/beautiful/gorgeous, I wanna be thin, I wanna have fun with all my girlfriends, I wanna take loads of pictures, I wanna go out all day, I want to just date around and don't give a fuck, I want to be carefree, I want to forget all the shits that I was/am going through, I don't want to care for education for once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angsty enough? Typing all these down reminds me that I am a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk. My life is so plain and mundane. I want more excitement in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like rules, usually. It make things safe. But too many rules make things boring. I like routines but too much of the same thing, makes one sick. I want change, I need change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But reality check, I am who I am as I'm shaped into it. Like it or not, I have to face it. I just want to taste what it is like to be free and carefree. However, what I want and what I am, are not the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you knew me well enough, I'm a sucker for love. When I fall, I fall deep. When I love, I love only one. I'm what they say, "your girl-next-door" but with a twist. I'm nice but if cursing and swearing vulgarities isn't, then I'm not that nice. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4977267468588599768?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4977267468588599768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4977267468588599768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4977267468588599768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4977267468588599768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/teenage-angst.html' title='Teenage Angst'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-8928086569203467590</id><published>2010-05-22T01:51:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T02:05:30.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful, Grateful</title><content type='html'>"When life gives you a thousand reasons to cry, give a million reasons to smile."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell, I teared, I get back up again. Maybe I am as strong as I think I am? Or maybe, He doesn't want to see me in such state and He doesn't want me to think of those things anymore. I heard a song from the past, got carried away. I believe He's leading me into the right direction. Thank you Allah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling really down. The previous post(s) tells it all. Until I saw Sha's tweet replying to Afiq's about grades, my mood was lifted up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got my first B for Maths eventhough I partial-ed. I got a B for Enterprise eventhough I didn't submit the rj. Miracles do happen right. This just shows that He loves his followers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like He is reminding me that even if there's no one in this Earth to stand by me, I must always remember that He is always there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit I've drifted too far from him. It's time that I went back to the right path.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-8928086569203467590?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8928086569203467590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=8928086569203467590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8928086569203467590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/8928086569203467590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/thankful-grateful.html' title='Thankful, Grateful'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3349104817163866500</id><published>2010-05-22T01:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T01:17:08.260+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone Save Me Please</title><content type='html'>I'm at my weakest right now. Feels like I've had a huge crash. I need someone to talk to. A girl preferably. Someone who's known me long enough to know my life story, or roughly about it. But I believe everybody's sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm not as strong as I thought I was? Silly girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3349104817163866500?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3349104817163866500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3349104817163866500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3349104817163866500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3349104817163866500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/someone-save-me-please.html' title='Someone Save Me Please'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3692523478557484320</id><published>2010-05-22T00:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T00:57:08.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>(L) Break</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday to you. I believe you've changed your number so I think it's pointless if I were to wish you through text. I hope you're living life happily. I always hope for the best for you eventhough my mouth may be spilling out nasty things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been missing you this whole week but let's just leave things the way it is. Things are better off this way, I believe. I wouldn't want to disturb you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize what a huge impact you've left me until today. I only realize today, the impact on me for all the things that had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope you're happy. I know you are. Happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;Misses. :'( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3692523478557484320?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3692523478557484320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3692523478557484320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3692523478557484320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3692523478557484320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/l-break.html' title='(L) Break'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-882609361806529048</id><published>2010-05-20T13:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T13:49:15.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Partial</title><content type='html'>Time check: 1320 hours. So why am I blogging on a school day, at such timing? It's becauseeeeeeee... I partial-ed! Hahahha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Maths module today and duh, I don't know what's going on. For your info, I've been getting Cs and a D and an X(absent). So yah, I really don't know what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today, I did do something ah. I did the task that I'm supposed to do. At first, I thought of staying through out the whole day but at the last minute, I decided to partial as I don't want to present. HEH. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But will be going back to class later on for UT ah. Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I'm in the library. First visit oi. Pathetic I know. But anyways... Hahahaha. I'm partialing with Afiq and Shahedah by the way. My tweet peeps in class. And Cognitive group members. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let's update a little about my happenings shall we. Not that there's much, there's nothing ah actually. Just that on Monday, I didn't go to school. I went to the doctor's with my bro. Like finallehhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, teams for most modules have been changed. Well all actually except for Science's as the faci is still away for re-service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much happenings actually. I don't feel like blogging anymore. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, write soon uh eh. Much loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-882609361806529048?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/882609361806529048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=882609361806529048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/882609361806529048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/882609361806529048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/partial.html' title='Partial'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4437406924315086119</id><published>2010-05-20T00:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T00:20:32.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitter, I Like.</title><content type='html'>I've not been updating my blog 'cause I've been tweeting. It's much more convenient somehow. And universal some kind of way. And, more personal. My tweets are proctected. Meaning, it's like privated. So yah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update soon when I find the time to do so. Padahal I just wish to not blog je, not because takda time. HEH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4437406924315086119?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4437406924315086119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4437406924315086119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4437406924315086119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4437406924315086119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/twitter-i-like.html' title='Twitter, I Like.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-2874368064100970999</id><published>2010-05-16T00:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T01:20:23.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Gonna Stay</title><content type='html'>I'm not gonna consider what others may think of what I'm going to blog. I'm going to express my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I get turned off by guys who linger on something they can't have but when actual fact, there's something else waiting for them right infront of them and they can't see that or refuse to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's because I've ever experienced this thing just recently that's why when it comes to you sir, I start to feel turned off by you slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about all these things, I feel that the male species are just major turn offs (the ones that I've come across so far).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I think about incidents(s), the more I think that you think too highly of yourself. Believe me, after knowing what you experienced, the tingles are slowly fading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why people have to linger on their past especially when their past caused them so much hurt. I mean, thinking of what has hurt you just causes more hurt right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I too was hurt by my past. No doubt, I really had strong feelings for him, I really really loved him. He moved on so quickly so ofcourse it hurt me real deep. And, you're not the only one who got cheated k. But with that all the more makes me want to move on. I feel that if it's not yours anymore, it's not. Move on, try to forget. It's gonna take alot of time but with dwelling on the past, thinking of how sad and hurt you are, it's not gonna help. Lingering and thinking of all the hurt the person has done to you won't make things better. Why waste so much time dwelling on someone who doesn't want you when life is too short?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why the tingles are slowly fading when I came to know that you're like that. The more  I think of it, the more I feel pissed. I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for you, you just had to make me look like a fool right? So pleasant huh making a friend look like a fool. Gee, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the best thing I should do right now is to just... dislike you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-2874368064100970999?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/2874368064100970999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=2874368064100970999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2874368064100970999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/2874368064100970999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-not-gonna-stay.html' title='I&apos;m Not Gonna Stay'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-4817322979695232538</id><published>2010-05-15T00:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T00:19:19.095+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Love Is Fragile"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Last Song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. With Aifaa, Maziah, Shahedah, Joshua, Melissa, Nadhirah and Jun An just now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I actually cried I think. I like. (Y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's watch this type of movies again as a class. This time bring Afiq, Sam, Raudha, Zaki, Sherman, Flynn and Terence, Navin, Yvonne and all the kaki gereks in ze class (wah, macam minah/mat rep like that. takpelah, sekali-sekala. wtf -.-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, peace. _|_ (class' inside jokeeee) :D:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-4817322979695232538?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4817322979695232538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=4817322979695232538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4817322979695232538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/4817322979695232538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/love-is-fragile.html' title='&quot;Love Is Fragile&quot;'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-3634243007762784180</id><published>2010-05-12T22:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T23:37:19.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Okay, I Really Am.</title><content type='html'>I collected my Garskin today. It was actually sent yesterday but Mom didn't open the door so yah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Collected it as Westmall's Singpost. Where else right? I live in Bukit Batok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having migraines since school ended. No idea why. I can say it was a norm to have migraines back in secondary school. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my point is... After I collected my Garskin, I sat down at one of the seats at Level 4 and just observe, reminisce and wonder. I reminisced things that had happened for the past 16 plus years of my life. I felt heavy in the chest. Usually, that feeling would be felt more to the left side of my chest and it wouldn't feel as bad. But today, it was right in the middle of my chest, heavy than ever, a piercing feeling deeper than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of things were going through my mind. Families, friends, you name it. Actually, before reaching Westmall, I already felt a piercing feeling in my chest. Was when I was in the bus, few stops before I alighted. The area I used to live when my family was taking baby steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I looked at the place, I felt real slighted. I was really trying to hold back my tears, my throat was hurting holding them back. I mustn't cry, I know. It was rather a mixture of emotions. I felt hurt, sad, glad, mad all at once. The only thing that was going on my mind was... Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling remorse at late. I try my very best to brush the feeling off. And no, it's not pertaining only stupid minor stuffs like love and whatnot. That's just rubbish. There's more to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat for 10 minutes if I'm not wrong. But I felt better somehow. Maybe I just needed some time to be alone and take time off from the rush and buzz of life. Probably. Come to think of it, I used to do this often back then. Spending time alone, pondering and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something hurts deep inside. I don't know why, I don't know what. Do I want to know? I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-3634243007762784180?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/3634243007762784180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=3634243007762784180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3634243007762784180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/3634243007762784180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-okay-i-really-am.html' title='I&apos;m Okay, I Really Am.'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8246083968343305551.post-1808935913422629168</id><published>2010-05-11T23:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T23:43:22.947+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Prepaid = No Phone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My prepaid is low.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Since Friday. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Prepaid low = Not having a phone.&lt;/span&gt; Gee.&lt;br /&gt;Running low on cash, cannot be bothered to top up. Takda orang nak contact mahhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UT this week, masih belum blaja. So perangai secondary school. Macam gini nak masuk uni? Hahah! Kelakar pe Nisa? Tsk!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8246083968343305551-1808935913422629168?l=nxsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1808935913422629168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8246083968343305551&amp;postID=1808935913422629168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1808935913422629168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8246083968343305551/posts/default/1808935913422629168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nxsa.blogspot.com/2010/05/no-prepaid-no-phone.html' title='No Prepaid = No Phone'/><author><name>NISA.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16607501797316840700</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2DafNsQKJRY/TdhBQIJiKBI/AAAAAAAAAMo/8kqZAakLAr4/s220/IMG0002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
