<?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-7179015942446099224</id><updated>2011-07-08T06:16:16.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PAISLEY PRINTED PREZZIES</title><subtitle type='html'>No one's ever gna tell you what I'm all about :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2931732746387419873</id><published>2010-03-28T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T20:17:26.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday night.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday night I cried, I wept,&lt;br /&gt;I lay in bed feeling alone,&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday night curled up, I slept,&lt;br /&gt;Hurt everywhere was all that was shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I thought things would get better,&lt;br /&gt;That maybe you see what I saw,&lt;br /&gt;Patience, I wait, just to see whether&lt;br /&gt;The cold in you would thaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I don't know what would happen,&lt;br /&gt;The future I cannot see,&lt;br /&gt;Who knows, maybe, my face still ashen,&lt;br /&gt;As again you let me cry, let me be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2931732746387419873?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2931732746387419873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/03/yesterday-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2931732746387419873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2931732746387419873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/03/yesterday-night.html' title='Yesterday night.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8141936851675210677</id><published>2010-01-26T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T08:56:36.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>But I'm not a boy.</title><content type='html'>Been working at Dorothy Perkins again. GOD, it's been hectic. Haha. So we have to play music there right, and a collegue burns Beyonce's shizz. I never really payed attention to the If I were a boy remix til now. DEEP. The whole song reminded me of my relationship with Fawzan. I mean, I thought the song was so true as it originally was, but then we get the other perspective in the remix. It just hit me, so randomly, like that. Haha. The line that did it was "You are not a perfect woman, AND I am not a perfect man". I think a girl's insecurities shouldn't get in the way of a relationship. And if the guy really loves you, you're bound to realize that in time. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://xa8.xanga.com/82e8021427750169819172/z73959925.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 362px; height: 286px;" src="http://xa8.xanga.com/82e8021427750169819172/z73959925.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8141936851675210677?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8141936851675210677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/01/but-im-not-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8141936851675210677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8141936851675210677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/01/but-im-not-boy.html' title='But I&apos;m not a boy.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3182147429705945046</id><published>2010-01-06T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T10:26:47.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Resolution.</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year, all! OMG, we'll all be getting a year older and the zombie apocalypse is not far away :O Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I really think that I should do something about my whole fashion dream thingy. I think it'll be great if I could just start with learning how to sew, from there, I'll just practuse and start making the simplest of my designs. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from that, I'm also gna start saving more, for when the rainy days are BOUND to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND, I'm wna make sure that I'm gna be a better daughter, sister, friend and last but not least wifey, to all my very much loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peaces in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3182147429705945046?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3182147429705945046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-resolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3182147429705945046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3182147429705945046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-resolution.html' title='New Years Resolution.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3116231052804726413</id><published>2009-12-23T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T11:31:29.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Half my heart.</title><content type='html'>I'm doubtful again. After thinking that it was all OK now. IDK anymore. I don't think he wants to go to Melaka with me. Idw to go anymore :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3116231052804726413?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3116231052804726413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/12/half-my-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3116231052804726413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3116231052804726413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/12/half-my-heart.html' title='Half my heart.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8662323539890583287</id><published>2009-12-12T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T22:02:54.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hungover and bruised.</title><content type='html'>JUST got better from me hangover. My parents weren't home over Friday night, and as any normal teenager would, partying would be on my mind. Haha. I haven't drank like that in sooo long, you have noo idea how OUT I was. :pp Suprisingly, I remember everyone's faces AND names. Haha. But the next dayy. OMG, I've never felt so icky in my life before. I woke up with a swolen fist, my hands in general were swolen, hitting GOD knows what. -.- But overall I had a good time :DD You're only a teenager once yow, and next year would be the last year :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8662323539890583287?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8662323539890583287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/12/hungover-and-bruised.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8662323539890583287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8662323539890583287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/12/hungover-and-bruised.html' title='Hungover and bruised.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8755521765922494119</id><published>2009-11-28T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T18:40:00.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My morning hair, part III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://renscreations.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/L-Plate-299x300.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 300px;" src="http://renscreations.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/L-Plate-299x300.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOOD MORNING, peeps :D Just got home from hopefully having my last driving lesson. I think I feel pretty confident now. Was a wreck last week, it was ridiculous. I cried my eyeballs out when I was otw home. I FAILED my road test, and the 3 FREE marks that I could've gotten were not marked. WHY? - not because I didn't do it, but because the guy testing me was an ASS. :D I'm praying really hard tomorrow's examiner will be nicer atleast. Then that way, I wouldn't be freaking out as much if the speed meter isn't working again - yes, it was friggin broken WTH. The whole damn time I was driving, the arrow stuck at 0. Oh the irony of it all. So fingers crossed for me tomorrow! Another rm270 to get this shit done. And I better get my pass tomorrow or I swear I'd start flippin' balls yows. GRRR angry. Haha. Peace IN :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8755521765922494119?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8755521765922494119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-morning-hair-part-iii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8755521765922494119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8755521765922494119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-morning-hair-part-iii.html' title='My morning hair, part III'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2030515869549182619</id><published>2009-11-27T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T05:45:38.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>With my eyes closed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://quizilla.teennick.com/user_images/L/LA/LAD/LadyTigerEyes/1129934644_eyesclosed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 377px; height: 413px;" src="http://quizilla.teennick.com/user_images/L/LA/LAD/LadyTigerEyes/1129934644_eyesclosed.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything feels so much better with my eyes closed. Problems seem to dissolve, friendships and relationships are mended automatically. I drift off to sleep cos I'm just too tired. I feel him there, around me, holding me. I'm in my own world. And I don't ever want it to end. Opening my eyes again is sheer torture. I feel lonely. No one knows that, but I do. Should anyone this young be subjected to that? :s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it. I miss my friends, my family. I feel as if I'm so outside nowadays. Especially when it comes to a certain clique of his friends - I've never felt like such an outcast in my life. Even primary school wasn't as bad. I thought things would be better by now, given that we're coming 8 months now, but they still make me feel like I'm the lowest living organism that can be found on the face of this world. Either they look at me with THE most disgusted expression on their face or they don't look at me at all, as if I've never existed to begin with. It sucks. Apart from that, I feel like alot of my friends have forgotten me. They're living their own happy lives with everyone else - The people that I cherish and hold so close to my heart. I'm not asking for presents or anything, just a ring maybe? :( Idk. Who am I to say anything anyways right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life isn't thaat bad though. Haha. I've been going on "road trips" and picnics with baby, Sasa and Brandon. I think that's the only time when I get the same feeling as when I close my eyes. It's nice to have a time where the people I'm with enjoy having me and my boyfriend at the same time. People don't really understand. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2030515869549182619?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2030515869549182619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/with-my-eyes-closed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2030515869549182619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2030515869549182619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/with-my-eyes-closed.html' title='With my eyes closed.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3688635063786636418</id><published>2009-11-24T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T17:19:25.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby.</title><content type='html'>Everyday when I wake up, the first thing I do is check my cell to see if you've called or texted. Before I go to bed, I ask God to bless you and wish you goodnight, even if we've been arguing. When you get mad, I force myself to just shut up and say I'm sorry, cos I really do mean it, I'm sorry for getting you upset. When I make you cry, I feel like crying harder, cos I know I've done something really bad, even if it wasn't my fault to begin with - I've done one of the worst things ever, make you cry. :( If only you knew what's going on in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you ask very little of me, but when you do, it seems ridiculous. I still do it though. And I know when you read this, you're gna think that ALL my requests are always ridiculous, but that's cos I'm jealous, and I want you for myself. I'm protective and I want nothing but to make you happy - I wna be the only one that makes you happy. It's probably impossible. But I just wna make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately it hasn't seemed like you've been happy. Idk what I'm doing wrong. Maybe it's just me? I'm trying really hard. You don't know this, but sometimes I get really miserable - it's too hard for me to explain in words. I can't bring myself to tell you face to face cos I can't stand to see you choke up and get upset - well, that's if it still matters to you. :( But I guess it's ok being miserable if it's for you. I mean, I know that I sound naive right now, but I you knoww that I know how it's like to have really lost someone - I never wna go through that again. I promised myself that when I found someone that I loved like that again, I wouldn't let him down, I wouldn't screw everything up just cos I think I'm right, I wouldn't waste anymore time. I promised I'd keep him happy, even if it were at the cost of my own happiness. Being with him is about enough for me to survive. I love him -  love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish you just knew how much I love you. Honestly only God knows how much. He hears my prayers and my thoughts. He listens to my wishes, no matter how ridiculous. And 90% of the time, he knows that I'm not praying and wishing for things for myself, but for my family. You ARE my family, baby. And I hope one day, I'll be part of your family too, atleast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I hope one day, you see what you mean to me. I hope that one day I'll mean a fraction of that to you as well. And I'm sorry for being an idiot. I really don't mean to. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3688635063786636418?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3688635063786636418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3688635063786636418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3688635063786636418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/baby.html' title='Baby.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4834367515057065022</id><published>2009-11-24T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T07:40:16.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When it's cold.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gZWGivX9xIo/SikJlFhRf5I/AAAAAAAAB_M/vZCICnY2eHo/s400/lonely%2Bgirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gZWGivX9xIo/SikJlFhRf5I/AAAAAAAAB_M/vZCICnY2eHo/s400/lonely%2Bgirl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that painful empty feeling in the middle of your chest. You can't make it stop. You can't make it warm. It just gets colder and colder and even harder to breathe. You can't do anything, you just can't. You can't cry, shout let alone speak - nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks that I don't understand. That I always have to be right. He doesn't get that I'm not the one other people are looking at, HE is. He doesn't get that I'm insecure - I'm just being silly. Right? It hurts so bad knowing that he knows there are other options. He doesn't get it. The only time I don't feel lonely is when he's here. But when he makes me feel this way, I feel even lonelier than before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4834367515057065022?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4834367515057065022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-its-cold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4834367515057065022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4834367515057065022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-its-cold.html' title='When it&apos;s cold.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gZWGivX9xIo/SikJlFhRf5I/AAAAAAAAB_M/vZCICnY2eHo/s72-c/lonely%2Bgirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2136148613252490034</id><published>2009-11-03T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T10:44:04.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SHAUN! I'm sorry leh :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.misquincemag.com/cm/misquincemag/images/J2/PrincessCake02-de.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 460px;" src="http://www.misquincemag.com/cm/misquincemag/images/J2/PrincessCake02-de.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.funmunch.com/comments/hugs/hugs_comment_graphic_05.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.funmunch.com/comments/hugs/hugs_comment_graphic_05.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I know it was on the 1st of November, I'm sorry I didn't know :( See, I gots you a princess cake with a crown :DD HEEE. Love me not? :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2136148613252490034?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2136148613252490034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/shaun-im-sorry-leh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2136148613252490034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2136148613252490034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/shaun-im-sorry-leh.html' title='SHAUN! I&apos;m sorry leh :('/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-336461086559542519</id><published>2009-11-03T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T10:29:36.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Her naked bottom :D</title><content type='html'>"Hi, my name is Low Hui Hui. My Ezra jiejie took nakky pictures of me to show when I grow up. I scream like a crazy person when I want my toys. I'm still very bushuk even after I've bombom-ed :DD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1jSiscqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/nGtOQ5ptkTw/s1600-h/DSC01234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1jSiscqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/nGtOQ5ptkTw/s320/DSC01234.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399945202350453410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1jCAI4VI/AAAAAAAAAUY/G_4p51oc48M/s1600-h/DSC01235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1jCAI4VI/AAAAAAAAAUY/G_4p51oc48M/s320/DSC01235.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399945197910548818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1i513x_I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/dO6_aUJ68P0/s1600-h/DSC01236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1i513x_I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/dO6_aUJ68P0/s320/DSC01236.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399945195720001522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1itRnm1I/AAAAAAAAAUI/XnguBCdbI5c/s1600-h/DSC01237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1itRnm1I/AAAAAAAAAUI/XnguBCdbI5c/s320/DSC01237.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399945192346721106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1iRjv2RI/AAAAAAAAAUA/AYfMQYxMlpo/s1600-h/DSC01238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1iRjv2RI/AAAAAAAAAUA/AYfMQYxMlpo/s320/DSC01238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399945184906565906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-336461086559542519?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/336461086559542519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/her-naked-bottom-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/336461086559542519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/336461086559542519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/11/her-naked-bottom-d.html' title='Her naked bottom :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SvB1jSiscqI/AAAAAAAAAUg/nGtOQ5ptkTw/s72-c/DSC01234.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3343285381689032658</id><published>2009-10-26T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T00:00:35.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jelly shakers :D HAHA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SuBDQMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/axUc-NqJDD8/s1600-h/DSC01167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SuBDQMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/axUc-NqJDD8/s200/DSC01167.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131267412279490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vibs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SVSer0I/AAAAAAAAATw/taXzN1tGbMU/s1600-h/DSC01164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SVSer0I/AAAAAAAAATw/taXzN1tGbMU/s200/DSC01164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131260774494018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Fits! :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SIaE9qI/AAAAAAAAATo/D5uFIWqowik/s1600-h/DSC01163.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SIaE9qI/AAAAAAAAATo/D5uFIWqowik/s200/DSC01163.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131257316701858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fits was playing with the penguins :D You can throw them around and they'd still follow. HEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2RyniDrI/AAAAAAAAATg/A7c48v2-Vns/s1600-h/DSC01162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2RyniDrI/AAAAAAAAATg/A7c48v2-Vns/s200/DSC01162.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131251467554482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I told you so. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2RvDsRsI/AAAAAAAAATY/sijV6QZL4Tg/s1600-h/DSC01161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2RvDsRsI/AAAAAAAAATY/sijV6QZL4Tg/s200/DSC01161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397131250511922882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you spot Reza at the back? Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1okaQftI/AAAAAAAAATQ/iwqPSzw9vic/s1600-h/DSC01160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1okaQftI/AAAAAAAAATQ/iwqPSzw9vic/s200/DSC01160.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397130543279144658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NIPPLES! Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1omEKGjI/AAAAAAAAATI/9gxgIuEYB9g/s1600-h/DSC01159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1omEKGjI/AAAAAAAAATI/9gxgIuEYB9g/s200/DSC01159.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397130543723321906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1oBefYKI/AAAAAAAAATA/rX1Ut0Apqec/s1600-h/DSC01158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1oBefYKI/AAAAAAAAATA/rX1Ut0Apqec/s200/DSC01158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397130533901656226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who showed up for class :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1n4ocA7I/AAAAAAAAAS4/zN8pyam5T7g/s1600-h/DSC01157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1n4ocA7I/AAAAAAAAAS4/zN8pyam5T7g/s200/DSC01157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397130531527459762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nivea deodorant add :P "Use NIVEA" Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1nj_5TwI/AAAAAAAAASw/dbyZUGYCqK8/s1600-h/DSC01155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ1nj_5TwI/AAAAAAAAASw/dbyZUGYCqK8/s200/DSC01155.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397130525988704002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blog and it's fishies :DD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3343285381689032658?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3343285381689032658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/jelly-shakers-d-haha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3343285381689032658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3343285381689032658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/jelly-shakers-d-haha.html' title='Jelly shakers :D HAHA'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SuZ2SuBDQMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/axUc-NqJDD8/s72-c/DSC01167.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-5136394167374439472</id><published>2009-10-25T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T22:04:44.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My banana nails :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mytko.org/random/banana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://mytko.org/random/banana.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stayed over at Deb's tyhe other day. It was nice, felt like old times. The only thing missing was MANOO! She painted my nails this bright banana yellow - Yes, I'm referring to them as my banana nails now :D HEE. I kinda miss all that. You know how people say real bestfreinds are the ones that pause when you leave and resume play when you're together again? Well, I think that applies to my bestfriends. And I miss you guys. All of you guys - Mano, Celia, Rastam, Deb, Atilia. Wish you were here. Then I wouldn't be alone. Hahaha. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at HELP, and there's nothing to do. Shaun's supposed to drop by but he hasn't got a clue where this little cafe is . Haha. I've got another 3 hours to go til baby finishes class. -.- GOD and my batteries are dying on this thing. I can't find a plug anywhere nearby. I hope it lasts through the lunch hour cos all the other tables are filled :s Oh well. Wish me luck! :DD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-5136394167374439472?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/5136394167374439472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-banana-nails-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/5136394167374439472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/5136394167374439472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-banana-nails-d.html' title='My banana nails :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6567463673391858263</id><published>2009-10-20T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T08:19:16.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tear stained face.</title><content type='html'>This is not how she wants to look like. She just needs somebody, but he's not there. She knows she loves him, she really does. He only sees her tear stained face, he doesn't see what's behind it - how she feels. He's so clueless most of the time. He always thinks things are gna be OK - they're not. So she gives herself to him. She gives and gives and gives til she gets sick. She thinks that's all he wants. Is it all he wants? She doesn't know. All she knows is that she loves him, that she'll try - try to make him happy again, try to make them happy again. She knows she's not happy. She wants to be happy. She knows that he's not happy either. She knows that he doesn't care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6567463673391858263?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6567463673391858263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/tear-stained-face.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6567463673391858263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6567463673391858263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/tear-stained-face.html' title='Tear stained face.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-1767024333328564268</id><published>2009-10-20T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T00:33:09.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Persuasion.</title><content type='html'>He says he thinks you're beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;He says he thinks you're perfect as you are.&lt;br /&gt;He says he loves you smile.&lt;br /&gt;He says he loves the way you smell.&lt;br /&gt;He says he's given so much up for you.&lt;br /&gt;He says you're what gets him going.&lt;br /&gt;He says you're everything he needs.&lt;br /&gt;He's just persuading you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick is to start with something small and work your way up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-1767024333328564268?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/1767024333328564268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/persuasion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1767024333328564268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1767024333328564268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/persuasion.html' title='Persuasion.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3601124445476241951</id><published>2009-10-19T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T11:24:28.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Shaun Quah.</title><content type='html'>Things that we have in common:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. we're both short, sorry! Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;2. we can't speak in chinese.&lt;br /&gt;3. I believe we both cry alot. Haha&lt;br /&gt;4. we're both SHEXY and cute - he likes to believe so, I just think Iiii'm the one that's shexy and cute. HAHA (KIDDING)&lt;br /&gt;5. as of now, we're also crying buddies.&lt;br /&gt;6. we had the same font and colour of font on msn - til he made me change it -.-&lt;br /&gt;7. we have the same perve emoticons - cos he stole mine HAHA&lt;br /&gt;8. we were both icky and made fun of as kids, and turned out pretty damn well :DD aye!&lt;br /&gt;9. we're both in love with my boypreng. Hee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I got so far :p I've only known him for 2 days lah. HAHA. Nice guy :) So there you go, something that isn't that depressing on this blog :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3601124445476241951?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3601124445476241951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-shaun-quah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3601124445476241951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3601124445476241951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-shaun-quah.html' title='Mr. Shaun Quah.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7760311812759729973</id><published>2009-10-19T01:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T01:42:58.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I weren't here for you anymore.</title><content type='html'>He hugs her. He's smelling her hair. He's about to say something, she can tell - she can hear him suck in the air as if preparing to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baby?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yesh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What will you do if I'm not here anymore?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd get depressed and kill myself. Hahaha"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seriously?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No la, silly. Haha. Idk, maybe. Idk. What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, what would you do if I'm not here for you anymore?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like if you were gone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't say things like that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, I just wna know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What're you trying to say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing. Sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It goes on. She cries. He tries to make things feel better. It doesn't work. He doesn't know, but she's still crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7760311812759729973?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7760311812759729973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-i-werent-here-for-you-anymore.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7760311812759729973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7760311812759729973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-i-werent-here-for-you-anymore.html' title='If I weren&apos;t here for you anymore.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3428255703742896150</id><published>2009-10-15T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:29:29.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They sting.</title><content type='html'>Cos I spent last night crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3428255703742896150?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3428255703742896150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/they-sting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3428255703742896150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3428255703742896150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/they-sting.html' title='They sting.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-1873896896307639975</id><published>2009-10-15T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T07:41:18.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When he's lying beside me.</title><content type='html'>I put my head on his chest and I can hear his heartbeat. It's so fast, even when he's asleep. He seems so stressed nowadays. Stressed and tired. Idk whether I'm the cause of it, or maybe I'm one of the causes. Idk. I just wish I can make him happy. He really doesn't seem happy anymore - atleast when he's with me. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-1873896896307639975?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/1873896896307639975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-hes-lying-beside-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1873896896307639975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1873896896307639975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-hes-lying-beside-me.html' title='When he&apos;s lying beside me.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3331348417168873172</id><published>2009-10-10T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T20:04:21.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My rainbow, no longer.</title><content type='html'>Maybe It's just me. But I feel like he isn't happy with me anymore..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3331348417168873172?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3331348417168873172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-rainbow-no-longer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3331348417168873172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3331348417168873172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-rainbow-no-longer.html' title='My rainbow, no longer.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4215821937885881410</id><published>2009-10-08T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:09:57.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weighing out.</title><content type='html'>These past few days have kinda taken a toll on me. I feel extremely shitty at times even though I may appear happy and OK. I feel fat, overweight. I feel ugly and I feel like my ass is the size of bloody Malaysia - As if I could fit a whole nation in my ass. I hate feeling this way and I REFUSE to go back to where mean girls, who thought and STILL think they're all that, made fun of me to my face and behind my back about how ugly my buck teeth were and how I was "The fat one". I'm just tired of all that crap and IDW to go back. EVER. I'm sick of getting sensitive and trying so hard to "look good" when I obviously DON'T look or even feel good to begin with. I've tried exercising and going on diets, and I do feel so much better about myself, but then I get back here again - Square one. Everything I do doesn't seem enough and there'd be that ONE person who says that ONE thing - All hell breaks lose after that. IDK what to do anymore. I wna be pretty and skinny. I wna look good in everything I wear and not look chubby or plump or bloated. I;m so done with people commenting on my weight. FINE, I GET IT, I'LL LOSE WEIGHT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4215821937885881410?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4215821937885881410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/weighing-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4215821937885881410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4215821937885881410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/weighing-out.html' title='Weighing out.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7369683033510339287</id><published>2009-10-08T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T02:05:48.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Study study?</title><content type='html'>This is our attempt at studying. Haha. We started taking pictures of my purdyy hair and making videos for our diary instead :D HEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2ow5rM5bI/AAAAAAAAAQg/G9BG7O1k51Y/s1600-h/Picture0034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2ow5rM5bI/AAAAAAAAAQg/G9BG7O1k51Y/s320/Picture0034.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390149887101560242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2owoeujQI/AAAAAAAAAQY/-dm27vdfZaA/s1600-h/Picture0029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2owoeujQI/AAAAAAAAAQY/-dm27vdfZaA/s320/Picture0029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390149882485837058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2oviOzzSI/AAAAAAAAAQI/Lk3mBtSHQNI/s1600-h/Picture0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2oviOzzSI/AAAAAAAAAQI/Lk3mBtSHQNI/s320/Picture0027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390149863628590370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2owHJ-4eI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/3edYY_zz2Ek/s1600-h/Picture0028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2owHJ-4eI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/3edYY_zz2Ek/s320/Picture0028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390149873540456930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2ovW_BZtI/AAAAAAAAAQA/0aFgXTeeEpw/s1600-h/Picture0026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2ovW_BZtI/AAAAAAAAAQA/0aFgXTeeEpw/s320/Picture0026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390149860609582802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7369683033510339287?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7369683033510339287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/study-study.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7369683033510339287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7369683033510339287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/study-study.html' title='Study study?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Ss2ow5rM5bI/AAAAAAAAAQg/G9BG7O1k51Y/s72-c/Picture0034.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3954393581399181056</id><published>2009-10-08T01:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T01:50:46.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Elaine.</title><content type='html'>Dear Elaine,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we aren't as close as we use to be and I can tell you that I really miss you. I hope you're doing fine at school and mixing well with your new friends. The other day, when you texted me to ask whether I was coming to class or not really affected me. I felt so touched that you still cared about this friend who has hardly been there for you anymore. I'm sorry for that, I really am. And I hope things would be better between us from now on. I realize that you're the kind of friend that I should keep in my life. I find it hard to trust people as I've had so many bad experiences with friends of the past - I've been used,forgotten and hurt too many times. It really is nice to know that you still say hi when we pass and that you still text to see how I'm doing. I keep a very very tiny and tight circle of loved and trusted friends that I hold close to my heart - I'd do anything and everything for them. And I'd like you to know that you are one of them, E. Even if we don't talk as often or hangout - which I hope will change. Haha. I'm only a call or text away. Elaine, you're a really good person and I hope you know that. I love you lots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend,&lt;br /&gt;Ezra. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3954393581399181056?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3954393581399181056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/dear-elaine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3954393581399181056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3954393581399181056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/dear-elaine.html' title='Dear Elaine.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6403473934762894068</id><published>2009-10-08T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T01:33:39.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exams and assingments. Yayy..</title><content type='html'>I know I hadn't been updating this silly blog :p Been really busayy with assignment and exams. I had no idea that my second semester would be so hectic. It's as if my brain's on an everlasting treadmill. Haha. I can't even find the energy to read these past few days. Maybe it's just that kinda week, know? Oh well. Everything else is good so far. Baby's been a wee bit testy and impatient - He's having exams too, haha. But that's nothing compared to when I'm moody - I'm sure he'd be able to support that statement :p Things are starting to add up, I guess :D As chaotic as this week may be, I feel totally relieved and refreshed. No more hiding things or feelings. I think it's safe to say, that all my skeletons in the closet have been buried for good. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6403473934762894068?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6403473934762894068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/exams-and-assingments-yayy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6403473934762894068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6403473934762894068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/exams-and-assingments-yayy.html' title='Exams and assingments. Yayy..'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-5248195182192067156</id><published>2009-10-04T03:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T03:21:43.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He checks the time to go.</title><content type='html'>I feel so bored today :( I thought if he stayed over, maybe we could spend time together, but I still feel sooo EGH. As if it were pointless. I know that I shouldn't feel that way, but Idk. Maybe I'm too clingy. I can't help it though. I like him being aorund. I like feeling his skin on mine. I like faint smell of him when he sits next to me. :( Idk if he wants that too. Maybe he doesn't :( Maybe I should lay off. Stop being a jealous idiot. Stop being insecure. Stop caring? But that isn't loving. And I do love him. SO MUCH, no one will ever have a clue or ever understand what he means to me. I wish he knew. He says he does, but he doesn't. I know he tries, he's not a bad boyfriend - I hate it when he starts thinking that, I know it's my fault. But maybe he tries without knowing WHY. Idk. Sometimes I feel like he doesn't like having me around. Maybe me sticking to him all the time is annoying - like when I come close, he pulls away. It hurts when he does that, even if I know he doesn't mean it or do it on purpose. But it hurts. I wish he knew. Maybe it's time that I stopped caring so much. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-5248195182192067156?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/5248195182192067156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/he-checks-time-to-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/5248195182192067156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/5248195182192067156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/10/he-checks-time-to-go.html' title='He checks the time to go.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-797510704466733294</id><published>2009-09-25T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T22:16:59.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk to me.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday night was probably the best time I had talking with baby. As retarded as it may sound, haha. I didn't wna go, but we were pushing 4am as it was :p He said that he'd call me in the morning when he gets up -  He still hasn't gotten up. And Idh the heart to wake him abruptly seeing how I was the one who kept him til the wee hours of the morning. Haha. Things seem to be working out. :) I'm glad that they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when he picked me up from work. I think it was the first time where we were such idiots when I was at work. Usually we'd be pretty quiet cos the music playing would be booming all around - There isn't any point talking, really. We even recorded some lame ass video. HAHA, you should watch it, REALLY :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Fawzan Sabirin, youu :3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-797510704466733294?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/797510704466733294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/talk-to-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/797510704466733294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/797510704466733294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/talk-to-me.html' title='Talk to me.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6371940473569865271</id><published>2009-09-22T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T11:09:35.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wan tan mee :9</title><content type='html'>This is the first time we've ever eaten anything Chinese together. HAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnxNAUeI/AAAAAAAAAP4/7Ikxgf9I5lk/s1600-h/DSC01087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnxNAUeI/AAAAAAAAAP4/7Ikxgf9I5lk/s320/DSC01087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384355303930221026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnd49VCI/AAAAAAAAAPw/RGb5N9MvFDM/s1600-h/DSC01086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnd49VCI/AAAAAAAAAPw/RGb5N9MvFDM/s320/DSC01086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384355298745865250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnNlgRRI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MZSjsNLJsNQ/s1600-h/DSC01085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnNlgRRI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MZSjsNLJsNQ/s320/DSC01085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384355294369301778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6371940473569865271?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6371940473569865271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/wan-tan-mee-9.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6371940473569865271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6371940473569865271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/wan-tan-mee-9.html' title='Wan tan mee :9'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkSnxNAUeI/AAAAAAAAAP4/7Ikxgf9I5lk/s72-c/DSC01087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6709224232776852747</id><published>2009-09-22T10:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T10:38:28.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The one who got away.</title><content type='html'>So I was eating meatballs at Ikea with the family, I'm all prim and proper and all of the sudden when I try to fork this ONE small meatball to cut in half, it SLIPPED :O and FLEW toward the floor, over my left arm, my cellphone and pass the mineral water bottle! EMBARRASSING MUCH -.- I tried so hard to ignore all the people staring at me for my impromptu stunt :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkKu2EgtyI/AAAAAAAAAPI/1SICuaAZ_Tc/s1600-h/DSC01089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkKu2EgtyI/AAAAAAAAAPI/1SICuaAZ_Tc/s320/DSC01089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384346629402834722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6709224232776852747?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6709224232776852747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-who-got-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6709224232776852747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6709224232776852747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-who-got-away.html' title='The one who got away.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrkKu2EgtyI/AAAAAAAAAPI/1SICuaAZ_Tc/s72-c/DSC01089.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2049236282294313599</id><published>2009-09-19T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T11:54:47.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember to breathe.</title><content type='html'>Looking back at all the guys that I've loved. The ones that broke me, the ones that lied, the ones that still have a part of my heart. It's hard to believe that I let myself go through that. And now I realize, that it wasn't only their faults, but it was mine too. Maybe I tried too hard, pushed too far, sunk too deep. I need to remember to breathe. It's not that I'm not happy now. Maybe knowing that someone that you wanted to give the world to is now moving on as you are, it stings a little. The vindictive side of me wants them to live miserably, knowing what they missed out when things went wrong with us, forever regretting. I know it's silly, thinking about it, but they could live happy lives, maybe still in regret. I know for a fact that I have none - No regrets. And yes, I said it stings, but I guess I'm happy that they've found someone that makes them happy as how my baby makes me happy. :) No one deserves to be alone - God made an Eve for every Adam. They don't have to say they're sorry, but in the spirit of Raya, I feel as if I should just forgive and let go of the past. It is the PAST. So yeah. :) To everyone who has hurt me, I forgive you. And especially to those that I have hurt, please find it in your hearts to forgive me. I never intended to make you feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, baby, if you're reading this, please don't get hurt. That's the last thing that I'd ever intend for you. You know that my heart belongs to you. My head lies next to yours. My hand is holding yours. Please don't get insecure over this silly post. :) I love you, Fawzan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2049236282294313599?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2049236282294313599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/remember-to-breathe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2049236282294313599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2049236282294313599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/remember-to-breathe.html' title='Remember to breathe.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3834036310781575303</id><published>2009-09-19T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T03:14:37.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be safe.</title><content type='html'>Dear, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you as it is. :( I wish I spent more time with you just now. Not seeing you for a two days is pure torture. It's hard. Please don't get into trouble and be safe while you're at Melaka. I'm serious tau? If anything were to happen to you, Idk what I'd do. :( I love you, baby. HMPH. I hope you know what you mean to me. I expect lots of sayang-ing when you get home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always yours,&lt;br /&gt;Ezra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Bumbu misses his papa :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3834036310781575303?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3834036310781575303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/be-safe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3834036310781575303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3834036310781575303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/be-safe.html' title='Be safe.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4320621372981722993</id><published>2009-09-18T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T10:44:07.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini Dinosaurs.</title><content type='html'>Idk. Been feeling kinda egh. Baby felt egh. I felt egh at the same time. Baby's ok now. I'm ok when I'm with baby. When I'm not, I'm kinda egh. For reals. Idk. And my sinuses are SERIOUSLY getting on my nerves. The whether is all over the place. Hot then cold, then hot again, then cold, and it goes on and on. I keep sneezing my eyeballs out. My nose hurts. Constantly being around smokers isn't helping. Second hand smoking = A higher chance of lung cancer - A higher percentage of second hand smokers die from lung cancer, not the smokers. Idw to die from lung cancer. I try to think of the mini dinosaurs that run across my screen when the page is loading. That kinda makes me happy. Idk why. I think it's cos dinosaurs are supposed to be BIG, but these are so cute and tiny. Hee. Mini Dinos. I sound lame wtf. I miss my baby. I want him here to be here, not for other stuffies. Idk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.microsoft.com/library/media/1033/windowsxp/images/using/setup/personalize/67385-pointers-tab.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 404px; height: 455px;" src="http://www.microsoft.com/library/media/1033/windowsxp/images/using/setup/personalize/67385-pointers-tab.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4320621372981722993?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4320621372981722993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/mini-dinosaurs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4320621372981722993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4320621372981722993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/mini-dinosaurs.html' title='Mini Dinosaurs.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4333559626045176934</id><published>2009-09-15T02:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T02:51:15.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Baby Sofy :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sq9jemwCXBI/AAAAAAAAAOM/3vICD3g3Dng/s1600-h/DSC00471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sq9jemwCXBI/AAAAAAAAAOM/3vICD3g3Dng/s320/DSC00471.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381629457180285970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dearest, baby sister. I know sometimes I might give you a hard time, but please know that I love you always. It's so hard for me to see my little munchkin turn 15, cos in all of our eyes, you're still the big headed-oogly-geramgeram baby girl. I want you to do the things that you want to do and NEVER let anybody stop you. Especially when you think you're right. Just don't go against the ones who love you and ALWAYS respect us older ones. You are so beautiful I wish you knew it. Don't let the words of others put you down. I know you might seem tough on the outside, but we all know you're a big mooshy pile of gummies. That's why Yasmin jie jie and I are always very protective over you. If anyone were to hurt you ever, we'd go KUNG FU on their asses. Or their heads - Mental torture! You must understand how to listen sometimes as well. Remember that you are the mei mei. When we tell you things, it may be hurtful, but that is NEVER our intention, feifei. SO. HAPPY 15th BIRTHDAY, FEI DI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3,&lt;br /&gt;Ezra Jie jie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Yasmin if you're reading this I love you too! :DD And don't get hurt about me not writing about you. I just didn't have a blog then -.-"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4333559626045176934?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4333559626045176934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-birthday-baby-sofy-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4333559626045176934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4333559626045176934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-birthday-baby-sofy-d.html' title='Happy Birthday, Baby Sofy :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sq9jemwCXBI/AAAAAAAAAOM/3vICD3g3Dng/s72-c/DSC00471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7139489497923210843</id><published>2009-09-14T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T06:45:20.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Monday blues.</title><content type='html'>Today seemed more tiring. I fell asleep on the floor when baby left :p School was OK. Guess it's just the Monday blues. Did I mention that I'm EXHILARATED that the very first class of tomorrow's day is THE oh so wonderful Miss Anne's. I'm gna have to face crap first thing in the morning. I never really noticed that the friends that I have around me in class are really supportive toward me :p SERIOUSLY. They're a bunch of guys and it's sweet and comforting to know that they'd wake up earlier to be in class with me tomorrow morning instead of Thursday's afternoon one. :D I've gotta keep reminding myself that once I finish the whole day in that pretentious, over priced, unnecessarily dramatic, hell hole of a school, I'd come home to my Family and my baby. :) And Bumbu ofcourse. Hehe. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO this is for my family, my friends, my baby, my Bumbu. Thank you for making my Monday blues a hell of a lot better :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7139489497923210843?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7139489497923210843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-monday-blues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7139489497923210843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7139489497923210843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-monday-blues.html' title='My Monday blues.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8638662991934544495</id><published>2009-09-12T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T04:13:27.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There was an extra passenger.</title><content type='html'>"Baby I wna go smoke k?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, don't take too long, please. You need to finish your assignment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 minutes goes by..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm in the loo. Be back in abit k?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see him walking back in. But in total opposite directions of where the loo was. He wasn't coming from the loo. What was he doing over at Mc Donalds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came late to pick me up. OK. I'm already spending most of my time alone when HE was the one who asked me to teman him. The pervert staring at me across doesn't help the situation. He sits down next to me and continues doing his work. I'm pissed. He's checking his watch. I hate it when he checks his watch. Makes it seem like he just wants to send me home and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baby I have to leave in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continue doing our own thing on our laptops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baby Happy Anniversary :D"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, Happy 5 month anniversary too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell I'm upset. We pack our things and head out to the car, passing by Mc Donalds. I'm scanning through the people to see if anyone is looking at him, maybe giving him signals, maybe that's the person he was sneaking off to see. All these possibilities running through my head. I refuse to hold his hand. He's holding mine while I leave my hand limp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reach the car and I see a shadow sitting in the backseat directly behind mine. I ignore it. As mama and papa has always said, pretend that you see, hear or smell nothing. He opens the car door behind to put our stuff. The light comes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Looks like there's an extra passenger with us todayy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's giving me the BIGGEST grin ever. It's my panda bear!! One as big as a three year old baby. He out the safety belt on it and it's holding a little card. :3 that's why he was rushing off. That's why he took so long outside. He was getting ready my surprise. :D I felt so embarrassed and horrid cos I was treating him so coldly. After 3 months of bugging him for a panda bear, he finally got me one when I least expected it. It was the best present EVAAAA. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrS0ZE4ufKI/AAAAAAAAAOk/pLOU0M19-W4/s1600-h/DSC01051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrS0ZE4ufKI/AAAAAAAAAOk/pLOU0M19-W4/s320/DSC01051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383125797515984034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;            &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrS0YkU7z7I/AAAAAAAAAOc/l2GBk7DFMek/s1600-h/DSC01050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrS0YkU7z7I/AAAAAAAAAOc/l2GBk7DFMek/s320/DSC01050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383125788775927730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8638662991934544495?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8638662991934544495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-was-extra-passenger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8638662991934544495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8638662991934544495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-was-extra-passenger.html' title='There was an extra passenger.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SrS0ZE4ufKI/AAAAAAAAAOk/pLOU0M19-W4/s72-c/DSC01051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6801964720710815431</id><published>2009-09-12T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T06:35:18.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celia's prezzie :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqujbpFiIOI/AAAAAAAAANM/oqXPy4rj8Hg/s1600-h/862ec49b-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqujbpFiIOI/AAAAAAAAANM/oqXPy4rj8Hg/s320/862ec49b-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380573875105046754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think after all the drama and the hard times that I've gone through, Celia always has her way to remind me about the brighter days. I love you, babe! &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6801964720710815431?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6801964720710815431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/celias-prezzie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6801964720710815431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6801964720710815431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/celias-prezzie.html' title='Celia&apos;s prezzie :)'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqujbpFiIOI/AAAAAAAAANM/oqXPy4rj8Hg/s72-c/862ec49b-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-511903654930594668</id><published>2009-09-09T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T23:59:54.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let down.</title><content type='html'>Idk whether there's something wrong with today, but it's supposed to be my 5 month anniversary with Fawzan. Aren't I supposed to be enjoying the day? I mean, everything seems to not work out. I got up early cos I wanted to get my highlights today. Was actually really excited cos I couldn't get them a few days back cos they were closing. There wasn't enough time again today. Mama had to send dad to the office. OK. I totally forgot that he has another class at 4. He says he's gna get out early, but I have to work at 4.30. He said he's on his way to meet me now, it's better than not seeing me at all. It's already 3. He has to leave by 3.30. I have to work last minute and I can't get off early cos Uncle Gun won't be there for the whole day. I don't think I can get off at all. I planned to watch Gamer with Fawzan. I told him I wanted to watch The Ugly Truth to surprise him. I booked the tickets two days ago. I feel like I can't get mad or upset cos he got me the panda bear that I've been asking for. Idk. This day seems to get suckier by the second. I feel like crying now and falling asleep. Maybe I'm not supposed to celebrate. Maybe 5 months means nothing. It was kinda my fault to begin with. I made it a big deal. I just really don't feel like doing anything anymore. I woke up with a smile and a light heart. Now, I don't think I could even fake a smile and my heart feels as if it fell down to the bottom of my ass. I wanted to write about my stupid panda. Now I'm writing about this. Nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-511903654930594668?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/511903654930594668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/let-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/511903654930594668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/511903654930594668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/let-down.html' title='Let down.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7515020309234210284</id><published>2009-09-09T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T08:57:01.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not mine, but what do you think?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1001/822798099_15c684dd19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 370px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1001/822798099_15c684dd19.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of the neck, how about this tattoo on the front of my shoulder? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/80/366470277_924beefb30.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/80/366470277_924beefb30.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just like the bird view bit. The bottom one seems abit demented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? :D Comments will be appreciated. Hee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7515020309234210284?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7515020309234210284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-mine-but-what-do-you-think.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7515020309234210284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7515020309234210284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-mine-but-what-do-you-think.html' title='Not mine, but what do you think?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1001/822798099_15c684dd19_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8918196504892063007</id><published>2009-09-09T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T07:56:56.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Latte, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://22.media.tumblr.com/AKj2aFcMmq693zjxFDND4Wixo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 395px; height: 298px;" src="http://22.media.tumblr.com/AKj2aFcMmq693zjxFDND4Wixo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full term : Caffelatte&lt;br /&gt;Origin of term : Itallian&lt;br /&gt;Contents: Coffee and Milk&lt;br /&gt;Usually served : with ice or hot, caramel added for sweetness, along with breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent RM11.75 on a cup of coffee and milk with a little caramel syrup -.-" Oh the things people indulge on. But I have to add, it dooes taste nyummy :9 Go starbucks! :DD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8918196504892063007?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8918196504892063007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/latte-anyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8918196504892063007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8918196504892063007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/latte-anyone.html' title='Latte, anyone?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7855204399831358268</id><published>2009-09-08T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T18:02:30.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Morning hair, part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-fp78uGI/AAAAAAAAAMc/bRKhG_JGRcs/s1600-h/Picture0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-fp78uGI/AAAAAAAAAMc/bRKhG_JGRcs/s320/Picture0005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379266624727332962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-fGE4Y2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/uKwgQT7rZKU/s1600-h/Picture0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-fGE4Y2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/uKwgQT7rZKU/s320/Picture0004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379266615101121378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-eyeCb-I/AAAAAAAAAMM/4R_pP74K9tQ/s1600-h/Picture0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-eyeCb-I/AAAAAAAAAMM/4R_pP74K9tQ/s320/Picture0003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379266609837928418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Morning to the very few that are reading this. HAHA. I am all ready for school, waiting for Judge, AS USUAL. -.-" I'm so lazy to go to school today. I', already skipping my second class. SHHH! X3 I mean it's only music theory. I can't find my certificates so I can't be exempted :( I mean c'mooon, The last time I took a music theory exam was like when I was 12?? I'm 18 going on 19, man. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also sat for my "undang" talk thing already. THE most excruciatingly painful ordeal that you will EVER have to face when growing up. Haha. The first two hours were ok, but as it started moving on to the third, then fourth, then fifth, then SIXTH HOUR, I think any normal human being would've lost thei sanity for a brief moment. HAHA. I'm pretty psyched about the whole thing. I mean, I've been so lazy to get it the whole time. I think it's about time. Don't you? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whoever reading this now, which I doubt is aanyone -.-", I hope you have a nice day. Don't let things get to you easy, have a cup of coffee. :D And to anyone who reads this later on, I hope you guys had a good day. If anything, know that I'm only a call away! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7855204399831358268?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7855204399831358268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-morning-hair-part-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7855204399831358268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7855204399831358268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-morning-hair-part-ii.html' title='My Morning hair, part II'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sqb-fp78uGI/AAAAAAAAAMc/bRKhG_JGRcs/s72-c/Picture0005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7597830113969751419</id><published>2009-09-08T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T04:45:26.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We murder.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDamhAqFI/AAAAAAAAAME/nPn5EKbptNQ/s1600-h/DSC00403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDamhAqFI/AAAAAAAAAME/nPn5EKbptNQ/s320/DSC00403.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379060929235298386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDaHAxfAI/AAAAAAAAAL8/LZb4tS2vmu4/s1600-h/DSC00335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDaHAxfAI/AAAAAAAAAL8/LZb4tS2vmu4/s320/DSC00335.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379060920778587138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZxxi4xI/AAAAAAAAAL0/Mh2xocfI5Zc/s1600-h/DSC00333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZxxi4xI/AAAAAAAAAL0/Mh2xocfI5Zc/s320/DSC00333.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379060915077571346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZdggtSI/AAAAAAAAALs/upTl13PcyiQ/s1600-h/DSC00321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZdggtSI/AAAAAAAAALs/upTl13PcyiQ/s320/DSC00321.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379060909637416226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZA4O7iI/AAAAAAAAALk/fYn3y6PsqT8/s1600-h/DSC00294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 83px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDZA4O7iI/AAAAAAAAALk/fYn3y6PsqT8/s320/DSC00294.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379060901952286242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_wdHRpI/AAAAAAAAALc/Mney5iD3Qx0/s1600-h/DSC01008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_wdHRpI/AAAAAAAAALc/Mney5iD3Qx0/s320/DSC01008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379059368535213714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_qIm64I/AAAAAAAAALU/bi_ESABV7bM/s1600-h/DSC01005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_qIm64I/AAAAAAAAALU/bi_ESABV7bM/s320/DSC01005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379059366838594434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_ENh7vI/AAAAAAAAALM/HIEbteLahdY/s1600-h/DSC01032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZB_ENh7vI/AAAAAAAAALM/HIEbteLahdY/s320/DSC01032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379059356658691826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7597830113969751419?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7597830113969751419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/we-murder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7597830113969751419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7597830113969751419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/we-murder.html' title='We murder.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqZDamhAqFI/AAAAAAAAAME/nPn5EKbptNQ/s72-c/DSC00403.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8918613253830381413</id><published>2009-09-07T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T10:45:31.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ERGHHH!</title><content type='html'>I'm waiting up only for you to ignore me online! I'm clearly merajuk-ing and you expect me to start the video call and the conversation. Wth?? I'm only human. I'm sleepy, I'm tired, I wna talk to YOU, but you don't even know how to pujuk me! &gt;.&lt; GAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Then when I text you all you say is sorry and expect to me all OKAY. I'm CLEARLY NOT OKAY. I WANT YOU TO BLOODY PUJUK ME and if it's so hard then FINE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8918613253830381413?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8918613253830381413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/erghhh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8918613253830381413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8918613253830381413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/erghhh.html' title='ERGHHH!'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-589388421306003424</id><published>2009-09-07T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T09:33:06.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it too late to apologise?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqUy8w7GrLI/AAAAAAAAALE/4z0OqmanG14/s1600-h/DSC00999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqUy8w7GrLI/AAAAAAAAALE/4z0OqmanG14/s320/DSC00999.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378761349470268594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby,&lt;br /&gt;I know that lately you've been having doubts about how I feel toward you. All the bad dreams of me leaving you and etc. I'm so sorry, baby. I never meant for it to escalate to this point. I know that I've been giving you a hard time, and the situation seems to be stuck in its place, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so so so much you have no idea. I'm not perfect but I try to be the best for you. Sometimes the things I do and the situations I put us in gets to you. I know that it's unbearable to keep looping through the same thing over and over again, but I promise that I've never lied or hidden anything from you. I refuse to. Baby I'm sorry. Please don't feel as if you cannot trust me. How I react to these things is just the way that I am. You can't expect me to pretend that it didn't happen and just move on. I need time. And with time will come obstacles that will rub their asses on your face, but you need to know that after everything and anything, my hands are holding yours. You don't have to listen to what I'm saying now, but atleast see and feel the way I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-589388421306003424?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/589388421306003424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-it-too-late-to-apologise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/589388421306003424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/589388421306003424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-it-too-late-to-apologise.html' title='Is it too late to apologise?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqUy8w7GrLI/AAAAAAAAALE/4z0OqmanG14/s72-c/DSC00999.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-1811373630872249026</id><published>2009-09-06T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T08:12:16.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Put a bullet in my head.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.osha.gov/dcsp/osp/oshspa/2003_report/images/revolver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 306px;" src="http://www.osha.gov/dcsp/osp/oshspa/2003_report/images/revolver.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's happening now. I have no idea who's real and who's not. Who to trust and who to drop. I can't help myself. It's all rushing back into my brain like some sort of hurricane. It's crying. I'm crying. And it's destroying everything that's in its way. I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do? Why is it all coming back now? Why am I letting it come back? I don't know if I can handle this all again. Just put a bullet in my head and get it over with, will you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-1811373630872249026?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/1811373630872249026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/put-bullet-in-my-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1811373630872249026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1811373630872249026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/put-bullet-in-my-head.html' title='Put a bullet in my head.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-9053089468920998648</id><published>2009-09-05T03:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T04:42:59.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jacket.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqJOfqXp2MI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Pe7sJiK0vDk/s1600-h/DSC01031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqJOfqXp2MI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Pe7sJiK0vDk/s320/DSC01031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377947210890205378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: "Baby you look shexy in that jacket :9"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: "I know, I got it for free ;p"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: "Yeah, Levi's? :D"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: "Yeah. :3"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: "Can I have it when I see you, pweasee? :3"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: "No. HAHA. But you can borrow it :D"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: "HMPH, I'll get MY OWN"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: "Hey I like my jacket otayy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: "I like it too. We'll wear it at the same time ;)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking around and I saw a boy. He had that jacket on. I couldn't help but stare. For a brief moment I was standing in the middle of the crowd, totally in a whole world of my own. In that very small amount of time, every memory I had of that jacket flashed in my head as if I were about to die right then and there. It seemed so clear. It was as if time had stopped and rewound itself for that short period. He caught me staring, I continued walking in the opposite direction of where he was heading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him again. This time he saw me too. Both of us just stopped and stared. Just stared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried calling. It went to voice mail. I didn't mean to make him leave for good. I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-9053089468920998648?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/9053089468920998648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/jacket.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/9053089468920998648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/9053089468920998648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/jacket.html' title='Jacket.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqJOfqXp2MI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Pe7sJiK0vDk/s72-c/DSC01031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8524087699488291942</id><published>2009-09-03T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T17:24:18.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My morning hair :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBeD-Y9FKI/AAAAAAAAAK0/1olyoyVSAQA/s1600-h/Picture0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBeD-Y9FKI/AAAAAAAAAK0/1olyoyVSAQA/s320/Picture0003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377401377460655266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBeDV9pGUI/AAAAAAAAAKs/vgj1IKcBeB0/s1600-h/Picture0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBeDV9pGUI/AAAAAAAAAKs/vgj1IKcBeB0/s320/Picture0001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377401366608681282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBd70NsbpI/AAAAAAAAAKk/3XSnPNlVCpA/s1600-h/Picture0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBd70NsbpI/AAAAAAAAAKk/3XSnPNlVCpA/s320/Picture0004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377401237290118802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I can't believe I'm up online this early -.-" Thought I'd check my mail but ended up signing in here instead. Can't help meself :p I'm waiting for mama to get ready. I REFUSE to take the bus this semester!! Besides, I only have two days of which I have no fixed transport to get to school. This is where the art of persuasion comes in. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Specially for baby, if he's reading this todayy:&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I'm sorry I kept you up last night. Heee. Even though we had a little set back, I'm glad we talked til 4.30 in the morning. I miss that. I miss you. Have a good day at school, Muhammad Fawzan bin Sabirin, youu! :3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8524087699488291942?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8524087699488291942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-vmorning-hair-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8524087699488291942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8524087699488291942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-vmorning-hair-d.html' title='My morning hair :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SqBeD-Y9FKI/AAAAAAAAAK0/1olyoyVSAQA/s72-c/Picture0003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2334599239168740136</id><published>2009-09-03T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T10:07:56.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All my girls out there!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://myweb.wvnet.edu/e-gor/pittsburghhorrorhosts/grafix/experimentinterror2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 288px;" src="http://myweb.wvnet.edu/e-gor/pittsburghhorrorhosts/grafix/experimentinterror2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMGGGG!! Today, I just found out that a person that I've been talking to isn't the REAL person he says he is! It's funny cos there was something wrong somewhere to begin with. And today, when I bumped into the REAL person online, he told me it wasn't him! You have NO idea how bad I freaked. We talked on the phone and I told him what had happened. The weirdest part is that the FAKO knows quiet alot about the REAL guy. And they're both GUYS! Stalker much? And the grossest part is that FAKO is a real perve. EEEE. I'm like, seriously grossed out about this whole thing weihhhh. O.O NO SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So girls out there, BE CAREFUL. With technology and all, you never know the real truth behind something. Don't be naive! If ANYTHING were to happen to you, you will NEVER be able to REWIND, and we NEVER know who's out there to get us. Just the other day, my boyfirend was telling me that a girl in his school was molested IN THE LIFT by a guy that has been STALKING her! Luckily, he was caught by one of the lecturers who noticed her bawling her eyes out. People now are just after a pair of boobies! ALWAYS trust your instincts. We have no obligation whatsoever to "layan" anyone who we feel uncomfortable with. NOTE THIS! PLEASE be careful, girls!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2334599239168740136?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2334599239168740136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-my-girls-out-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2334599239168740136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2334599239168740136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-my-girls-out-there.html' title='All my girls out there!'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3477753906251833898</id><published>2009-09-02T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T05:39:16.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you tell the difference?</title><content type='html'>MAN, yesterday was one hell of a night. BAWLED my eyeballs out and I still managed to perform. It was my first showcase. :D Nervous as hell. :s It's like, when you walk up on stage, you feel so confident, and just as you turn around and look out to the crowd, everything in me just froze. Haha. The crowd wasn't big, trust me, it wasn't, but you could feel the eyes watching and staring at you. Haha. It was good though. I think that was the only time where I was feeling happy throughout the whole night. Could you tell that I was crying just half an hour before? :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m7yvNTiI/AAAAAAAAAJk/p41U26qIAeg/s1600-h/8335_1198694560976_1036860466_30630750_6574352_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m7yvNTiI/AAAAAAAAAJk/p41U26qIAeg/s200/8335_1198694560976_1036860466_30630750_6574352_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376848182545042978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m7ayncuI/AAAAAAAAAJc/qQeVai1ZHX8/s1600-h/8335_1198694080964_1036860466_30630738_7931901_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m7ayncuI/AAAAAAAAAJc/qQeVai1ZHX8/s200/8335_1198694080964_1036860466_30630738_7931901_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376848176116888290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m60YFiHI/AAAAAAAAAJU/tdMaRPQyT3M/s1600-h/8335_1198693520950_1036860466_30630724_3234812_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m60YFiHI/AAAAAAAAAJU/tdMaRPQyT3M/s200/8335_1198693520950_1036860466_30630724_3234812_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376848165805066354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m6hX24FI/AAAAAAAAAJM/q_g4ETq8DTs/s1600-h/8335_1198693400947_1036860466_30630721_5404664_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m6hX24FI/AAAAAAAAAJM/q_g4ETq8DTs/s200/8335_1198693400947_1036860466_30630721_5404664_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376848160703832146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m6JpcDFI/AAAAAAAAAJE/OIs6AOCRftE/s1600-h/8335_1198693280944_1036860466_30630718_3922178_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m6JpcDFI/AAAAAAAAAJE/OIs6AOCRftE/s200/8335_1198693280944_1036860466_30630718_3922178_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376848154335120466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3477753906251833898?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3477753906251833898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/can-you-tell-difference.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3477753906251833898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3477753906251833898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/09/can-you-tell-difference.html' title='Can you tell the difference?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/Sp5m7yvNTiI/AAAAAAAAAJk/p41U26qIAeg/s72-c/8335_1198694560976_1036860466_30630750_6574352_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2800553233356576576</id><published>2009-08-29T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T09:14:55.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The whole town came :)</title><content type='html'>It's my gong-gong's birthday today. Squished between each other, we filled three whole tables. All of us separated by age group ofcourse - Babies, Kids and Old people. HAHA. Our family is so huge it felt as if the whole town came to celebrate with us. :p The food was OK, but I think overall, we had a real good time with each other. The air was filled with laughter and REALY noisy chattering. You could hear some karaoke shit going on in the section beside ours, but it's being muffled by all of our three tables. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTvB_vIDI/AAAAAAAAAI8/_MHlEJxhb8E/s1600-h/DSC00967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTvB_vIDI/AAAAAAAAAI8/_MHlEJxhb8E/s320/DSC00967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419697698119730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTuxArosI/AAAAAAAAAI0/9LH7eB_aX-M/s1600-h/DSC00943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTuxArosI/AAAAAAAAAI0/9LH7eB_aX-M/s320/DSC00943.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419693138682562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTuXCD3hI/AAAAAAAAAIs/JlWQcZILcSs/s1600-h/DSC00927.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTuXCD3hI/AAAAAAAAAIs/JlWQcZILcSs/s320/DSC00927.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419686165143058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTt9KOxsI/AAAAAAAAAIk/v_UBzVpy5OI/s1600-h/DSC00932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTt9KOxsI/AAAAAAAAAIk/v_UBzVpy5OI/s320/DSC00932.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419679220090562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTthj5aJI/AAAAAAAAAIc/0hj_-EQK-TU/s1600-h/DSC00923.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTthj5aJI/AAAAAAAAAIc/0hj_-EQK-TU/s320/DSC00923.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375419671811549330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2800553233356576576?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2800553233356576576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/whole-town-came.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2800553233356576576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2800553233356576576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/whole-town-came.html' title='The whole town came :)'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SplTvB_vIDI/AAAAAAAAAI8/_MHlEJxhb8E/s72-c/DSC00967.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-305136050525651337</id><published>2009-08-29T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T01:21:04.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Modeling for Calvin Klein. :p</title><content type='html'>Looking for a FRESH FACE? :p He's got the looks, style and attitude, baby. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjxmYFIsI/AAAAAAAAAH0/KtC0RCvU36I/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjxmYFIsI/AAAAAAAAAH0/KtC0RCvU36I/s320/Picture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375296596521329346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjwtkCiWI/AAAAAAAAAHk/6OTUgkXT48g/s1600-h/DSC00848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjwtkCiWI/AAAAAAAAAHk/6OTUgkXT48g/s320/DSC00848.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375296581270669666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjwC1v7EI/AAAAAAAAAHc/NHDrVT6ioYI/s1600-h/DSC00842.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjwC1v7EI/AAAAAAAAAHc/NHDrVT6ioYI/s320/DSC00842.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375296569802222658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjvwGXp_I/AAAAAAAAAHU/zGI2L9ccfNM/s1600-h/DSC00840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjvwGXp_I/AAAAAAAAAHU/zGI2L9ccfNM/s320/DSC00840.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375296564771661810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgSo6CNpI/AAAAAAAAAHM/F05gj7Au190/s1600-h/DSC00836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgSo6CNpI/AAAAAAAAAHM/F05gj7Au190/s320/DSC00836.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375292766089787026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgSZhkz0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/-HVaTgi9ra0/s1600-h/DSC00837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgSZhkz0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/-HVaTgi9ra0/s320/DSC00837.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375292761960664898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgR8JIIVI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ZL50C1YrT4o/s1600-h/18082009446.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgR8JIIVI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ZL50C1YrT4o/s320/18082009446.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375292754073493842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgRXEpDWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Fa2zN8whQpg/s1600-h/18082009444.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgRXEpDWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Fa2zN8whQpg/s320/18082009444.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375292744122568034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgQ8LJixI/AAAAAAAAAGs/-B0BGGlASzI/s1600-h/18082009440.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjgQ8LJixI/AAAAAAAAAGs/-B0BGGlASzI/s320/18082009440.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375292736902105874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. These were all candid btw. And taken with my cellphone's camera. Not bad eyh? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-305136050525651337?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/305136050525651337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/modeling-for-calvin-klein-p.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/305136050525651337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/305136050525651337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/modeling-for-calvin-klein-p.html' title='Modeling for Calvin Klein. :p'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjjxmYFIsI/AAAAAAAAAH0/KtC0RCvU36I/s72-c/Picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6539591711890869239</id><published>2009-08-29T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T00:57:39.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BLOCKED. O.O</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjfQPNOrjI/AAAAAAAAAGk/41dR0Vnp6j4/s1600-h/DSC00796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjfQPNOrjI/AAAAAAAAAGk/41dR0Vnp6j4/s200/DSC00796.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375291625319607858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjfPtR-W2I/AAAAAAAAAGc/IRXkyWAJOqU/s1600-h/DSC00872.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjfPtR-W2I/AAAAAAAAAGc/IRXkyWAJOqU/s200/DSC00872.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375291616212704098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 8 am and people keep calling me. I'm trying to sleep, I didn't get any the night before last. I hear my phone constantly ringing, texts coming in. Once the noise has died down, I check my texts, barely being able to open my eyes. I scroll down to the very first one. It's baby :) It wasn't a very long text but he managed to cramp in five I love yous. Hehe. I try calling back but my number was barred. -.-" Along with everyone else's in the house. GAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's all the way in Ipoh and I'm crazy missing him now. I went back to sleep only to have a bad dream of eating cookie monster cookies wrapped in edible cloth while he ignored me the whole day :s Talk about getting hurt right? I heard my phone ringing again, I checked it and it was baby. I didn;t wna pick up cos I wanted to merajuk, but the I realized that I was only dreaming before. HAHA. Guess what the giveaway was? - Edible cloth :p We talked for abit, but I still miss him :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6539591711890869239?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6539591711890869239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/blocked-oo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6539591711890869239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6539591711890869239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/blocked-oo.html' title='BLOCKED. O.O'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SpjfQPNOrjI/AAAAAAAAAGk/41dR0Vnp6j4/s72-c/DSC00796.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2878362080306251771</id><published>2009-08-26T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T12:15:42.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Use somebody.</title><content type='html'>I know I might not have been the most popular girl in school, and that I might not have that many friends, but the handful that I keep, I keep close to my heart. It's breaking my heart to know that some of these friends are hurting. It's excruciatingly painful to know that they now feel what you have felt before. Infact every human should be able to relate to this. The agony over something someone has said or the loneliness we feel when someone has left us. The worst part about having these feelings is that we ALWAYS feel alone. Regardless of whether we are or not, we feel SO alone. It isn't as if your mission is to make others pity you, or that you're just saying that so people notice (LOA), but we just feel alone, empty, vulnerable. It's just inevitable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is at these moments, no matter how hard we believe it to be, we HAVE to realize that we are surrounded by people that love us 24-7. They care and worry about us. I know for a fact that the people I love would be there for me when I need them, they'd piss and crap on everything and everyone that has done anything ill hearted toward me. I'd gladly do the same thing for them a hundred times if I had to. And even if you look around, and you seriously see NO ONE infront of you, I'd be there behind you if ever you fall. I might not be alot, but I'm always there. My love toward you cannot be compared with the number of friends that you have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've been roaming around,&lt;br /&gt;Always lookin' down at all I see,&lt;br /&gt;Painted faces do the paces I can't reach,&lt;br /&gt;You know that I could use somebody,&lt;br /&gt;You know that I could use somebody"&lt;br /&gt;-Kings of Leon-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2878362080306251771?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2878362080306251771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/use-somebody.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2878362080306251771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2878362080306251771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/use-somebody.html' title='Use somebody.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-199562071143816874</id><published>2009-08-25T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T04:48:01.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where'd you go? I miss you so.</title><content type='html'>"What are you tired about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It can't beee everything, what??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whyy are you tired?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've got to leave in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just one of those days. Idk why but it feels like i've got a whole platoon of soldiers piling ontop of my shoulders. He sounds irritated at the way I am. I can't help it. It's just a part of me that was there for as long as I can remember. I hate sounding whiny though. I know I should stop but I keep going. I'm tired. Just tired. What don't you get? Why must there be a why? Can't I just be tired? These are the times where I wish so badly to go back in time. Not to correct any mistakes (no regrets), but to just feel better. Better when I felt tired. Back when he wouldn't ask why or what. He wouldn't have asked at all. He supported and loved and felt tired as I did. He hated the world just cos I hated it. He cried just cos I cried. He cussed and bitched and backed me up all the way just cos I did. He didn't need any inquiry cos he knew that all I needed was him. And after ALL that fuss of me getting worked up. I'd know it was for nothing. I'd know how silly it was and how silly I was for being tired and getting upset in the first damn place. There were no tones of irritation or frustration in his voice all the while. All the crying and moping and EGH-ing to him. He still backed me up. And I felt better. I felt good. I felt stupid, yes, but he didn't think I was and I felt ,knew and trusted that he didn't. Cos in his mind I knew that all he wanted to do was to make me feel better. Where did that boy go? :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-199562071143816874?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/199562071143816874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/whered-you-go-i-miss-you-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/199562071143816874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/199562071143816874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/whered-you-go-i-miss-you-so.html' title='Where&apos;d you go? I miss you so.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3570271889274533214</id><published>2009-08-25T04:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T02:27:33.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One or two?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jpnin.gov.my/v4/files/images/muhibbah.preview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 640px; height: 446px;" src="http://www.jpnin.gov.my/v4/files/images/muhibbah.preview.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use to be colour blind. I didn't care about sly comments about race or religion. You'd think growing up in a country like ours, people would understand. It didn't matter which and what family we came from and who our grandfathers were. All I knew was that we were all born and bred to love one another and to put our differences aside. That bridge that we built is now burning down, and it's burning oh so very slowly. People now treat you as if you are incompetent of understanding just because you are of a different person on the outside. They make remarks which are hurtful and cut you out because they find as if your opinion is not a valid point - How would weee know, RIGHT? This anger that I feel inside, I know it isn't healthy. It took me a damn long time to realize that this "unity" that everyone speaks of does not exist. Maybe it did before and maybe it still does, but if it is, it definitely is depleting and dissolving into the air - making it thicker and harder for us to breathe. So what now? What do we do? Our world as we know it - is it one or two? I'm trying my best to not allow this to bug me. But sometimes when it happens, it comes to you like shards of metal from a bomb that has exploded. Idw to raise my children, and my childrens' children to live in a world where we are divided.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3570271889274533214?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3570271889274533214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-or-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3570271889274533214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3570271889274533214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-or-two.html' title='One or two?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4500555982556052711</id><published>2009-08-24T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T06:44:01.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>work.</title><content type='html'>So there's some pool tournament going on. Things are wayy livelier than usual over here. It's just one of the good days but it still seems boring. I can see young and old-ER customers. Haha. People circling the pool tables-some sitting, some standing as close as they can get. There's lots of movement today, but i'm still bored sitting behind the bar. To make things worse, there isn't any eye candy :( haha. Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4500555982556052711?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4500555982556052711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4500555982556052711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4500555982556052711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/work.html' title='work.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6884332792564574610</id><published>2009-08-19T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T23:27:57.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the morning.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://cardiophile.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/broken-heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 396px;" src="http://cardiophile.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/broken-heart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up and my eyes are swollen again. All I can think about is what went wrong last night. There's no point blaming either party cos it's just gna make things even more worse than it was to begin with. All we do is fight fight fight. I've had enough. I'm trying really hard to make things better. I'm want so badly for this to just stop and rewind back to when it was me and you against the world. The world that criticized all the things that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; stood for, all the times when they said we were wrong just because it wasn't what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; believed in. But we didn't care because it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;us&lt;/span&gt;. I miss how I use to smile for no reason. I miss waking up &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;in the morning&lt;/span&gt;, feeling that I can do anything cos you're already out there waiting for me. I love you so so so much that the thought of losing you makes me want to drop down and die right then and there. I know that I've done mistakes. And I'm trying to fix them. And I know that you're doing the same too, but difference is that I know where my flaws start and end. You just blame yourself blindly. Baby I can't handle getting hurt anymore. I pasted all the pieces back with you. I can't have you ripping it back to shreds after everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6884332792564574610?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6884332792564574610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6884332792564574610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6884332792564574610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-morning.html' title='In the morning.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-269283770845621412</id><published>2009-08-16T02:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T02:18:25.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For mama.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://chawedrosin.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/mother-and-baby-panda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 345px;" src="http://chawedrosin.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/mother-and-baby-panda.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy,&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for the things that I've done to make you cry. I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. I promise you that I never meant to. All the times when I yelled back was because I was angry. I know it was wrong of me and I honestly didn't mean to. I wish I could take it all back and I'll do everything in my power to make you feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama,&lt;br /&gt;All the times where I wished you weren't here, I take it back. I'm sorry for all the sins that we've passed to you. We never understood and cared. I wish I could erase them. I would've been a better person if I knew it was for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for loving me and caring for me. Thank you for showing us how much we all can't live without each other. Thank you for showing me that I am never alone. For giving me guidence and forgiving me when I have done wrong upon you. Thank you for protecting me and shielding me from the things that I couldn't handle. And thank you for pushing me when I refused to be the best at what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy,&lt;br /&gt;You are my friend. My reason. My answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-269283770845621412?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/269283770845621412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-mama.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/269283770845621412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/269283770845621412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-mama.html' title='For mama.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4015624865166976924</id><published>2009-08-10T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T11:17:58.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom King.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBj8zXefLI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0ukxm5Kc6dA/s1600-h/Prom+King.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBj8zXefLI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0ukxm5Kc6dA/s400/Prom+King.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368400652057607346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBbFCfSFyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/2xMp3KOlPrE/s1600-h/EzraFawzan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;JULY 2008.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"GAH, it's that really cute boy again. Crap Daniel and Scott are gna say something mean. Act cool, act cool. Man, he's not looking. Ok, smile at h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBbFCfSFyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/2xMp3KOlPrE/s1600-h/EzraFawzan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;is fri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBbFCfSFyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/2xMp3KOlPrE/s1600-h/EzraFawzan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;end, don't be rude :p We're passing, the boys didn't say anything. GOOD. Oh God, I really wna look b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBbFCfSFyI/AAAAAAAAAE8/2xMp3KOlPrE/s1600-h/EzraFawzan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ack at him. He's totally out of my league. He's Prom King, I'm just the girl that he passes by."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;AUGUST 2009.&lt;/span&gt; We're writting notes when we're right infront of each other. My parents are around. Don't get too shmooshy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;" Beautiful, I love you. You make me happy too :)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Sexy Beast you (HAHA). I love you too. I wish you didn't have to go"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Beautiful,  I wish you were portable. That way I can bring you wherev&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;er I go"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Sexy Beast you (Ima stick with that :p). I know. Then I can follow you home. Idw you to go"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Baby I have to leave in a minute :("&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"I know. :( Baby please promise to drive carefully?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"Ok, baby. I promise. Happy four month anniversary again! :D"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Hehee. :D Happy four month anniversary too! I love you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;"I love you too :)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBjWiPNetI/AAAAAAAAAFc/yAQEQTzCATE/s1600-h/EzraFawzan3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBjWiPNetI/AAAAAAAAAFc/yAQEQTzCATE/s400/EzraFawzan3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368399994624506578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBhvz-MgnI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mIBRA7mMe0I/s1600-h/EzraFawzan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBhvz-MgnI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mIBRA7mMe0I/s400/EzraFawzan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368398229858452082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBjWaMvNeI/AAAAAAAAAFU/FLhjdU9rpYc/s1600-h/EzraFawzan2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBjWaMvNeI/AAAAAAAAAFU/FLhjdU9rpYc/s400/EzraFawzan2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368399992466650594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4015624865166976924?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4015624865166976924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/prom-king.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4015624865166976924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4015624865166976924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/prom-king.html' title='Prom King.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoBj8zXefLI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0ukxm5Kc6dA/s72-c/Prom+King.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3979752830920555609</id><published>2009-08-10T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T05:51:34.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When we get to 4 months :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXkdpzgoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/STHDUyWWdtw/s1600-h/Picture0056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXkdpzgoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/STHDUyWWdtw/s320/Picture0056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316671028331138" border="0" /&gt;When we get to four months, we act like idiots and take pictures to show the whole world. HAHA :DD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXkLniGwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/_7KLj-dpApM/s1600-h/Picture0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXkLniGwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/_7KLj-dpApM/s320/Picture0051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316666186963714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXVPQWMWI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UJ9BPLRXhGk/s1600-h/Picture0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXVPQWMWI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UJ9BPLRXhGk/s320/Picture0050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316409465418082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXU9z-TeI/AAAAAAAAAD8/-jGzKHqFON8/s1600-h/Picture0064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXU9z-TeI/AAAAAAAAAD8/-jGzKHqFON8/s320/Picture0064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316404783009250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUvz4yzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/BIJmo8UHXRs/s1600-h/Picture0048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUvz4yzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/BIJmo8UHXRs/s320/Picture0048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316401024551730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUS18ngI/AAAAAAAAADs/dbLxO89JyHs/s1600-h/Picture0049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUS18ngI/AAAAAAAAADs/dbLxO89JyHs/s320/Picture0049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316393248562690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUPSE7KI/AAAAAAAAADk/mt4Lb3LM3Yk/s1600-h/Picture0046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXUPSE7KI/AAAAAAAAADk/mt4Lb3LM3Yk/s320/Picture0046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316392292805794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3979752830920555609?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3979752830920555609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-we-get-to-4-months-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3979752830920555609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3979752830920555609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-we-get-to-4-months-d.html' title='When we get to 4 months :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SoAXkdpzgoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/STHDUyWWdtw/s72-c/Picture0056.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4614923603794859706</id><published>2009-08-07T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:25:56.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dearest Santa, I've been a good girl this year. :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.unplggd.com/uimages/unplggd/101608_tf_BBF1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 431px; height: 229px;" src="http://www.unplggd.com/uimages/unplggd/101608_tf_BBF1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BBF (Blackbird fly).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.network-error.com/photo/camera/05-diana-f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 454px; height: 330px;" src="http://www.network-error.com/photo/camera/05-diana-f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diana F. I want! She's so purdyy :3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.network-error.com/photo/camera/05-diana-f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 146px;" src="http://www.network-error.com/photo/camera/05-diana-f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;Mini Diana F. HAHA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://a6.vox.com/6a00c2252963c0549d00e39899120e0001-500pi"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 433px; height: 333px;" src="http://a6.vox.com/6a00c2252963c0549d00e39899120e0001-500pi" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fisheye 2 &lt;/span&gt;with coloured flash rings.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zkSuxfyGfiU/ScbuBBLLWII/AAAAAAAAAH8/9cjpKQByiwY/s320/fisheye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 451px; height: 365px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zkSuxfyGfiU/ScbuBBLLWII/AAAAAAAAAH8/9cjpKQByiwY/s320/fisheye.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fisheye 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (original)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4614923603794859706?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4614923603794859706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/dearest-santa-ive-been-good-girl-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4614923603794859706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4614923603794859706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/dearest-santa-ive-been-good-girl-this.html' title='Dearest Santa, I&apos;ve been a good girl this year. :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zkSuxfyGfiU/ScbuBBLLWII/AAAAAAAAAH8/9cjpKQByiwY/s72-c/fisheye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6993700469369306517</id><published>2009-08-07T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T12:55:14.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I still cry.</title><content type='html'>A few more days to a year. I know some people might not be fully aware of the whole story but maybe, in a way, it's for the better. I don't understand why things happened the way they did. Everything feels as is it's not for real. I wish it weren't for real. I hate the fact that it still gets to me, that it still bugs me. The way I get so uncomfortable when people ask me about it. I hate that they feel sorry. I hate that they know. I wish they didn't. I wish I didn't have to explain. I don't even know why I tell people, why I let them know. It sickens me. I feel stupid and ashamed and demented for allowing others to know. All this seriously feels like a lie. It feels like I'm living a lie. I just want to move on and be happy. But no matter how hard I try and how persuasive I am to myself, it still comes back. And all at once. One after the other people bring it up. As if to remind me of that day, whenever I actually do feel happy or whenever life seems to be falling back into place. I resent it. I've tried so hard to just block it out. Bit by bit, I put all the little glass shards in a bowl, but it gets tipped over and I'm stepping on them with my bare feet. Yeah, I know - OUCH. I know it's a stupid thing to be writing this now, but this is where I can confide. With an additional perk that people don't have the heart to ask if they read it. I can share without having to break down infront of someone. I HATE looking weak. I am not weak. The last thing I need is for someone to see me in that manner. It's disgusting. The worst part is that I really did fall in love. I felt loved. I was loved. And I know that I am loved now. God, I know how much the people around me love and look out for me. But this was a whole new way and perspective. It was a new meaning. A new life and way of living. Now it's gone. Even though I know things happen for a reason, that when God takes one good thing from us, he returns twice as much back, It still hurts. And so so so badly, I honestly cannot find the words to describe and explain it. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the blessings that are in my life now, I love and cherish them with all my heart. I just still cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6993700469369306517?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6993700469369306517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-still-cry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6993700469369306517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6993700469369306517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-still-cry.html' title='I still cry.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-6056723120901742671</id><published>2009-07-26T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T09:35:46.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures of you.</title><content type='html'>Yeah, they're not of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-6056723120901742671?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/6056723120901742671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/pictures-of-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6056723120901742671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/6056723120901742671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/pictures-of-you.html' title='Pictures of you.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8163797614845742798</id><published>2009-07-20T10:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T10:23:38.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Balloons and sunshine :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Haha. I was so tired from work. I just wanted to check my mail and go to bed. But then I started taking pictures of myself and the balloons cos I noticed they were starting to shrink and get dull. Now I don't think I can sleep :p GRR. I'm already not feeling well as it is :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSnJT4wO9I/AAAAAAAAACs/mjTGx7lgFzY/s1600-h/Picture0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSnJT4wO9I/AAAAAAAAACs/mjTGx7lgFzY/s320/Picture0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360593234876709842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSnA-99YWI/AAAAAAAAACk/NhonhSmLx6Y/s1600-h/Picture0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSnA-99YWI/AAAAAAAAACk/NhonhSmLx6Y/s320/Picture0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360593091822444898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSm6nw0eQI/AAAAAAAAACc/IVE3zL1LO1c/s1600-h/Picture0015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSm6nw0eQI/AAAAAAAAACc/IVE3zL1LO1c/s320/Picture0015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360592982514104578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmvPKM2tI/AAAAAAAAACU/8nY-5NGNVHk/s1600-h/Picture0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmvPKM2tI/AAAAAAAAACU/8nY-5NGNVHk/s320/Picture0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360592786931112658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmp1-VbiI/AAAAAAAAACM/Shg7LtbAs74/s1600-h/Picture0012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmp1-VbiI/AAAAAAAAACM/Shg7LtbAs74/s320/Picture0012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360592694271110690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmkMyidII/AAAAAAAAACE/mTChAuUvToY/s1600-h/Picture0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSmkMyidII/AAAAAAAAACE/mTChAuUvToY/s320/Picture0011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360592597316433026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8163797614845742798?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8163797614845742798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/balloons-and-sunshine-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8163797614845742798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8163797614845742798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/balloons-and-sunshine-d.html' title='Balloons and sunshine :D'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmSnJT4wO9I/AAAAAAAAACs/mjTGx7lgFzY/s72-c/Picture0019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7296837163382366563</id><published>2009-07-19T23:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T23:57:01.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive and forget?</title><content type='html'>Forgive and forget. I don't truly understand the whole concept. How do you forget about something just like that? What if someone did something really mean or endangered your life on purpose. How do you forgive and forget?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone has done wrong upon you and they don't say they're sorry, how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do &lt;/span&gt;you forgive? I mean people always say, "be the bigger person and just let it go". How do you let it go when you know that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;certain person who hurt you shows no sign of remorse whatsoever? Think about it. If we were to forgive the person when he still hasn't said he was sorry, then we would seem big headed and egoistic, as if already expecting an apology. But the again, if we do not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;forgive and forget,&lt;/span&gt; people would start thinking of us as someone who is petty and maybe even vindictive toward the wrong doer. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; accepted in our community now? Do we really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;to forgive and forget in fear of what other people think of us? Come to think about it, why &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should &lt;/span&gt;we forgive and forget something and someone just cause other people say so? I think being able to "man" up to the situation takes time. We are only human. Forgiving and forgetting about something that hurt you isn't as easy as it seems. We should do it at our own pace. And it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;our choice to whether we believe that the person deserves to be forgiven. Well that's my perspective anyways. And I strongly recommend that we run &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our &lt;/span&gt;lives the way &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; want it to go, as long as we put no one else in harm's way, ofcourse. Would &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; cave in to the perspective of other people? Forgive and forget?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7296837163382366563?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7296837163382366563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/forgive-and-forget.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7296837163382366563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7296837163382366563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/forgive-and-forget.html' title='Forgive and forget?'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-1594223803035687209</id><published>2009-07-17T07:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T23:58:08.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What we do when we get bored :p</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCN5JoqWJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/I-JV7T-Cr-E/s1600-h/Picture0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCN5JoqWJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/I-JV7T-Cr-E/s320/Picture0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359439569549416594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is what we do when we get bored. Haha. He's supposed to be doing his homework, but instead, he's checking up facebook and IM-ing his friends. AAND me - When I'm right beside him -.-"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNzi74gYI/AAAAAAAAABw/Ea4mdGa8Dug/s1600-h/Picture0008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNzi74gYI/AAAAAAAAABw/Ea4mdGa8Dug/s320/Picture0008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359439473261707650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNuUAOQLI/AAAAAAAAABo/m57W7BlJ3B4/s1600-h/Picture0007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNuUAOQLI/AAAAAAAAABo/m57W7BlJ3B4/s320/Picture0007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359439383354032306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNpnU2bUI/AAAAAAAAABg/rJ-sH4cLDZ0/s1600-h/Picture0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCNpnU2bUI/AAAAAAAAABg/rJ-sH4cLDZ0/s320/Picture0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359439302641478978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-1594223803035687209?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/1594223803035687209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/this-is-what-we-do-when-we-get-bored.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1594223803035687209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/1594223803035687209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/this-is-what-we-do-when-we-get-bored.html' title='What we do when we get bored :p'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SmCN5JoqWJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/I-JV7T-Cr-E/s72-c/Picture0009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3576067545914651727</id><published>2009-07-12T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T11:17:04.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paint me shades of blue.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mymindseye.com/uploads/Bohemia%20Christmas/blue_paisley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.mymindseye.com/uploads/Bohemia%20Christmas/blue_paisley.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blue is the colour that define's me best"&lt;/span&gt;, that's what he said. And still,it's running through my mind. I've been having nothing but stingy thoughts and feelings on how much of a moron I was to have let something I made to believe was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;major &lt;/span&gt;end up getting in the way of him and I. I wa&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;s &lt;/span&gt;clouded by the scorn and vindicity that I kept harvesting throughout myself the whole time. I couldn't realise what a biv I was for being so bloody blind and ignoran all while. I kept telling myself that I had to resolve things in order to make what he and I have a better thing. But boyy was I SO wrong. Not to mention I just jeapordised something special and so worthwhile. I made him feel little and under appreciated. Now I don't know how to make it up ti him. I feel so stupid and naive. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I LOVE HIM,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; for God's sake. I mean after everything, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he &lt;/span&gt;was the one that helped my glue back all the bits and pieces. And as cliche as that sounds, it's all true from the very depth of my sinful soul. Loving him seems as if it's not enough, but he has always and still does say that that's the only thing that he wants from me. My love and affection in return. I'm such a fool. How could I not have fully seen this boy infront of me? This boy that has been holding me by his fingertips as if I were to fall into a massive pit of self destruction. He's been there. And best of all, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HE LOVES ME :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; I can't explain how blessed I feel to have such a person introduced into my life. One can only hope that he forgives me one day for hurting him the way I did. I'm not proud of what I did, but I'm willing to admit it. His patience and kindness holds me up like how his arms do. His wit observes me like how his eyes do. His love, like his lips, tell a whole story that you wish would never end. :) So paint me shades of blue, all over me if you must.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Muham&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;mad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Faw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;zan b. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Sa&lt;/span&gt;birin&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;3&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/7179015942446099224-3576067545914651727?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3576067545914651727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/paint-me-shades-of-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3576067545914651727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3576067545914651727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/paint-me-shades-of-blue.html' title='Paint me shades of blue.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-7673776649546216537</id><published>2009-07-11T00:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T02:44:29.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Destiny.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlhFgSPlW-I/AAAAAAAAABI/A4A9BOT0aWQ/s1600-h/ruums4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlhFgSPlW-I/AAAAAAAAABI/A4A9BOT0aWQ/s200/ruums4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357108177712536546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lots of things have been happening these past few days. You really can't help but wonder, was this the way things were supposed to go? People say that our destiny is set by God and that it can never be changed. I have to SERIOUSLY disagree with that statement. In my opinion, the large handful of people that believe that are the ones who sit on their asses and expect things to just work out on their own. We all believe that God has written our story for us. That it has been carefully thought over and drafted many times. But have you ever stopped and think for awhile that yes, God did write our story, but He might've also written many versions to it. Now whichever version we choose to star in is OUR very own choice as God cannot force us to make a decision based on what He wants. He can only guide us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching a movie just now, "My sassy girl" and right at the end of it there was a scene where an old man said "Destiny is the bridge we build to the ones we love". Also that we mould our own destinies. I'm not sure what I'm trying to get across here now. But I think that if you really wanted to change something, you could. It's whether you find it worthwhile or not. I guess I'm still just bitter about the past and everything and that I just wanted things back then to work out. But like the saying goes, you can't save your cake and eat it at the same time. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlhFgSPlW-I/AAAAAAAAABI/A4A9BOT0aWQ/s1600-h/ruums4.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-7673776649546216537?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/7673776649546216537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-lots-of-things-have-been-happening.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7673776649546216537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/7673776649546216537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-lots-of-things-have-been-happening.html' title='Dear Destiny.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlhFgSPlW-I/AAAAAAAAABI/A4A9BOT0aWQ/s72-c/ruums4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-3020509550676763319</id><published>2009-07-09T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:40:11.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 months I still wonder</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.glassthimble.com/store/media/Moda/Prairie%20Paisley/Prairie%20Paisley%2014577%2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 266px;" src="http://www.glassthimble.com/store/media/Moda/Prairie%20Paisley/Prairie%20Paisley%2014577%2011.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Don't get me wrong. He is the best thing that finally worked out. But sometimes I can't help but wonder. What if I was still with the first instead of the second. What if I tried harder? I know I should be grateful that God has graced me now with such a wonderful gift that I love and and will forever cherish. I am aware, though I still can't help but resent why He never listened when I prayed for things to not go wrong before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Then again maybe He was listening and decided to spare me from all the heartache. But still I hurt. I feel every bit of it when I'm alone or trying to fall asleep. It's not the last thing on my mind, it really isn't, but it's still there. I try so hard not to think about it. It drains me. All this seems so unfair to the person that I love now. He doesn't deserve all this bullshit. And there are times where I believe that I'm not worthy to be with someone so perfect. Infact, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;am not &lt;/span&gt;worthy of being with him. I know, humans are never perfect, but with him, his &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;imperfections&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; are perfectly imperfect. You can't help but love them and him more by the second. I feel guilty, I know I shouldn't be having thoughts of all this - what with today being a special date. But in all honesty, I still wonder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-3020509550676763319?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/3020509550676763319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/3-months-i-still-wonder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3020509550676763319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/3020509550676763319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/3-months-i-still-wonder.html' title='3 months I still wonder'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-4874211782374548500</id><published>2009-07-07T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:20:34.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAHA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://matchstic.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/pin-paisley-stripes-design.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 400px;" src="http://matchstic.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/pin-paisley-stripes-design.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm like, seriouslyy hornyyy. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-4874211782374548500?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/4874211782374548500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-like-seriouslyy-hornyyy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4874211782374548500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/4874211782374548500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-like-seriouslyy-hornyyy.html' title='HAHA'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-8992978286237106705</id><published>2009-07-05T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T09:14:58.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby's all grown up.</title><content type='html'>He's only starting college tmrw but it feels like my own child is going for the very first day of school.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC8Veo9WYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ik-50MAUvfE/s1600-h/Picture0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC8Veo9WYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ik-50MAUvfE/s400/Picture0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354987034131650946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm happy, excited, nervous and insecure all at once. It's seriously driving me mad. Especially the whole thing with the insecurity :( Maybe I bug too much about the timing and everything but I cant exactly help myself. I dooo wna spend time with him. And I am aware that seeing him everyday like we usually do won't exactly be an option anymore. I know he's trying to make an effort, I can tell. But sometimes I feel bad cos it seems like I'm forcing him to make me happy. Feel bad or be upset. Either way, it's unfair to him and I know. But again, I really can't help myself. I'm like, getting a bad case of paranoia as well. All these thoughts about other girls and stuffs. I'm not exactly the best looker of the bunch. :( GAH. I feel real silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-8992978286237106705?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/8992978286237106705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/babys-all-grown-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8992978286237106705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/8992978286237106705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/babys-all-grown-up.html' title='Baby&apos;s all grown up.'/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC8Veo9WYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ik-50MAUvfE/s72-c/Picture0004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7179015942446099224.post-2762111313404554585</id><published>2009-07-05T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T07:33:33.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC5dIXjuOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/seaBTlIoB7U/s1600-h/DSC02056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC5dIXjuOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/seaBTlIoB7U/s400/DSC02056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354983867057158370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7179015942446099224-2762111313404554585?l=paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/feeds/2762111313404554585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2762111313404554585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7179015942446099224/posts/default/2762111313404554585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://paisleyprintedprezzies.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>ezra's disco lights and shiny things.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16846178121642323616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SzJuFoxiRXI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VWSk5xBtyp0/S220/13963_1233121222487_1062846756_30786810_5613766_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fI300VNTlDQ/SlC5dIXjuOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/seaBTlIoB7U/s72-c/DSC02056.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
