<?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-4385545197845578463</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:36:56.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zig//Zag</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>174</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2944149046426624507</id><published>2009-02-22T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T06:33:08.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#173 The End</title><content type='html'>And a new start in its own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm &lt;a href="http://re-inspired.blogspot.com/"&gt;re-inspired&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2944149046426624507?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2944149046426624507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2944149046426624507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2944149046426624507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2944149046426624507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2009/02/173-end.html' title='#173 The End'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4154414711637132710</id><published>2009-01-10T01:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T01:57:48.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#172 A Wayward Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Until the sense stay dead.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can hardly breathe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And yet now I don't seem to ever need to breathe anyway.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I haven't discussed much about my time in NS except a brief summation along the lines of, "a long boring wait, a waste of time." That isn't the total truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither is it too far from the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet there are times I smile, because (my posting) in itself has made me learn valuable lessons; lessons about how bullshit life can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I say this with not a tingle of negativity. Because it shows the human side to an almost perfect picture advertising/public relations has painted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How so, I'll describe another time. Because now I've got to go make up for the lack of a social life; one of the negative aspects of NS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4154414711637132710?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4154414711637132710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4154414711637132710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4154414711637132710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4154414711637132710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2009/01/172-wayward-soul.html' title='#172 A Wayward Soul'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6892286007926703602</id><published>2009-01-03T03:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T03:29:03.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#171 Blind</title><content type='html'>There are the perspective and there are the&lt;em&gt; foolish&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seem to come to a point where I can't see beyond my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such is my limit, if you would call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gnawing feeling resides within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's more than I can bear just existing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking into the mirror I see nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even a fading impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's already closed.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6892286007926703602?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6892286007926703602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6892286007926703602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6892286007926703602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6892286007926703602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2009/01/171-blind.html' title='#171 Blind'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-826057629686922390</id><published>2008-12-28T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T11:21:13.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#170 A Loaded Question</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;One step away from excommunication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One step into miscommunication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One step backward for communication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One way communication. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many ways I've grown blunt and in-your-face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other ways I've hid true feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I can't seem to get out of this "lets not screw the world with personal problems" mentality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can't even see myself now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-826057629686922390?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/826057629686922390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=826057629686922390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/826057629686922390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/826057629686922390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/12/170-loaded-question.html' title='#170 A Loaded Question'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5504748375579175401</id><published>2008-12-22T08:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:14:21.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#169 I Looked At The Sky</title><content type='html'>I should have been asleep two hours ago, because I'm supposed to reveille at 5.30am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I don't have to stay in camp unlike Yong Ren &amp;amp; Yeow Chong (chao SISPEC kias, they'll pass out as 3rd Sergeants at the end of their 6 months training stint in the least).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside is that I'm stuck with Recruit for a long time to come, and the most I'll ever become is a Corporal First Class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, my first day of work wasn't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward, the two years are going to be a big surprise, whether for good or for bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I just wonder. Was my smile worth it?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5504748375579175401?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5504748375579175401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5504748375579175401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5504748375579175401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5504748375579175401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/12/169-i-looked-at-sky.html' title='#169 I Looked At The Sky'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5897362312008756301</id><published>2008-12-14T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T08:26:45.988-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#168 Farewell</title><content type='html'>So long~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to say goodbye~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because 9 hours later, I enter the next stage of my life; National Service.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5897362312008756301?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5897362312008756301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5897362312008756301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5897362312008756301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5897362312008756301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/12/168-farewell.html' title='#168 Farewell'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5855176958421237560</id><published>2008-12-01T08:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T08:53:54.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#167 The Irony</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;There is no iron in irony.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay that was lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, gaining weight for me, unlike the vast majority of the world's population, is nigh impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing it is easier than *alphabets*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like how shampoo-ing is a luxury. And it's not because we can't afford it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just don't have enough of those black extensions that are supposed to sprout, covering our otherwise reflective scalp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking about the NSmen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Gulps* 13 days to losing my crowning glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 days to age plus one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 24 hours to the meet-up with Lester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 2 days to the meet-up with Jerrome a.k.a. MNG (Mr Nice Guy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 3 days to the meet-up with Jun Wei &amp;amp; Elaine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And less than 12 hours to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New friends at work, and more practice teaching people how to handle the monotony of the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And yet I feel as empty as ever.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Perhaps defeated would be a more apt word.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wonder when I'll let go of my heart and believe once more.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to smile at the world, and tell it, it's okay to be imperfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what's driving us forward, upward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5855176958421237560?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5855176958421237560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5855176958421237560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5855176958421237560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5855176958421237560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/12/167-irony.html' title='#167 The Irony'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7598786484653493502</id><published>2008-11-28T10:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T10:47:55.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#166 Up In Arms!</title><content type='html'>How life has played everyone a fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How things have got back to square &lt;em&gt;zero&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How understanding has degenerated comprehension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How contradictions have come to light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the perpendiculr threads of life lie in preternatural incongruence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How little sense I make of my surroundings in the drunkenness of the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was I chosen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I was blissfully unaware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because reality isn't cruel. It's just incomprehensibly unintelligible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The darkness sure reveals some inscrutable odd-ball nuances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as the light obscures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pardon my intentional belligerent persiflage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's just frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder at my superfluous adjectival use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7598786484653493502?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7598786484653493502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7598786484653493502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7598786484653493502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7598786484653493502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/166-up-in-arms.html' title='#166 Up In Arms!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3052091175717792785</id><published>2008-11-28T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T09:17:40.379-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#165 Solitaire</title><content type='html'>Here I am, in front of the computer, playing solitaire and listening to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, but where am I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3052091175717792785?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3052091175717792785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3052091175717792785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3052091175717792785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3052091175717792785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/165-solitaire.html' title='#165 Solitaire'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8798615446962527811</id><published>2008-11-28T03:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T04:07:57.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#164 In The Distance</title><content type='html'>As I was on the train back home, I looked to the distance. As if trailing the setting sun, a burst of redness swelled across the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I felt a stirring, an urgency within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the slow walk home;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Everything There Is A Gift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In tears, there is consolation&lt;br /&gt;In pain, there is healing&lt;br /&gt;In remorse, there is forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;In anger, there is respite&lt;br /&gt;In disgrace, there is humility&lt;br /&gt;In separation, there is memory&lt;br /&gt;In rejection, there is another door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To love deeply, is to hurt deeply. And I know that despite all my faults and failings, there is One who loves me deeply, and who because of my distance, hurts deeply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still I cannot find the courage, to return, to seek His forgiveness, to enter His sanctuary. Because, the fear I have is perhaps as strong as the anger that I feel within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People may fail us, but how many utterly destroy us by neglect?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I looked into that redness, I feel the emotions I have felt and am feeling, that just as red is the colour of blood, so is it the colour of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, because of all my failings I cannot go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here, I am, observing, my doubts caged in, my fears suppressed, my anger repressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, at least I can smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Don't know, I just try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8798615446962527811?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8798615446962527811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8798615446962527811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8798615446962527811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8798615446962527811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/164-in-distance.html' title='#164 In The Distance'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3892730660495995800</id><published>2008-11-28T00:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T00:43:56.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#163 This Is So Not Myself</title><content type='html'>I busted close to $150 on clothes just yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's so weird?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shock #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't shop. Ever. Until now. That is if you don't count the trips to the wet market with dad as of my old part-time job. Or the fact that I visit NTUC regularly to stock up on unhealthy but necessary food for the larder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I pretty much failed in making my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shock #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to spend. Except maybe that close to $100 on 1 blazer. Really. *innocent face*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So happily I went home, admiring what I've bought. I even went home and tried it all on once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for my vanity. Because I realised *GASP* the zipper on the jeans is defective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine going to a wedding dinner without zipping up your jeans. Not a nice thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have to lug my lazy ass all the way back to Bugis Street (which by the way has serious oxygen deprivation issues) just to get a change (or a refund).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, why did I even bother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3892730660495995800?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3892730660495995800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3892730660495995800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3892730660495995800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3892730660495995800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/163-this-is-so-not-myself.html' title='#163 This Is So Not Myself'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3269827485854305429</id><published>2008-11-27T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T07:11:53.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#162 My Brain Is Down</title><content type='html'>And my head throbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I suspect it's not because I've just realise I have a tummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3269827485854305429?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3269827485854305429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3269827485854305429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3269827485854305429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3269827485854305429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/162-my-brain-is-down.html' title='#162 My Brain Is Down'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5351932224838932176</id><published>2008-11-25T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T20:05:16.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#161 In The Night</title><content type='html'>That night I dreamt&lt;br /&gt;So real it seemed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life would end&lt;br /&gt;As broken sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In tears I woke&lt;br /&gt;And took a look&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fear so clear&lt;br /&gt;It came so near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hours passed&lt;br /&gt;Until at last...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5351932224838932176?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5351932224838932176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5351932224838932176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5351932224838932176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5351932224838932176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/161-in-night.html' title='#161 In The Night'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5385013706713286979</id><published>2008-11-25T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T07:40:39.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#160 Just A Thought</title><content type='html'>Some of us go around believing and trusting in people, trying to empower them in love, in spite of what others think of us,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image they have of us;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much lesser we are now because of what we have left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much we need to listen;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failing to see it is because of what has happened that has taught us lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Failing to listen instead to our side of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the way I see it, you're only interested in my presence in a particular sanctuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see how little you care when in reciprocation I share a bit of myself, you belittle it albeit unknowingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because I firmly believe in two-way communication and refuse to take without giving, I choose to forgo your kindness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but don't just sit down and complain;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open your eyes; sometimes the negativity you perceive in others is merely the voice in your own soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always smile for a friend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I may have the honour that you consider yourself one, so do I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5385013706713286979?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5385013706713286979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5385013706713286979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5385013706713286979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5385013706713286979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/160-just-thought.html' title='#160 Just A Thought'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1813789250506964963</id><published>2008-11-24T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T07:13:04.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#159 A Heartfelt Song On A Quiet Night</title><content type='html'>Cries In The Distance by JJ Lin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cries in the distance&lt;br /&gt;Cant stop the tremble&lt;br /&gt;Im just awaiting my turn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiding will never&lt;br /&gt;Save me forever&lt;br /&gt;The guns gonna get me for sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God I pray why wont you be my friend&lt;br /&gt;Come to me and take my hand&lt;br /&gt;Like mama would say&lt;br /&gt;Everything will be okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I hear is 3 2 1&lt;br /&gt;The scream from the guns&lt;br /&gt;And then 1 by 1&lt;br /&gt;No one gets to run&lt;br /&gt;Someones dad or mom&lt;br /&gt;Sister, brother and son&lt;br /&gt;No no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I feel is 1 2 3&lt;br /&gt;My tears start to bleed&lt;br /&gt;Smell of roses on my feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sore&lt;br /&gt;I fall&lt;br /&gt;I call&lt;br /&gt;I crawl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because I'm an emo kid, because I love this song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of utter helplessness; I've felt it before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact I'm still standing is because I have a friend in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My life is fulfilled by fulfilling the dreams of others.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That is my dream, that another person feels loved, trusted, cared for and reaches his or her potential.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because no one should feel despair.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1813789250506964963?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1813789250506964963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1813789250506964963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1813789250506964963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1813789250506964963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/159.html' title='#159 A Heartfelt Song On A Quiet Night'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2237265762860874552</id><published>2008-11-21T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T21:52:02.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#158 MAN</title><content type='html'>MAN. Manhood. Attitude. Nonchalance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay maybe not. But believe it or not, ten years back I never thought I'd grow up. But then again, back then I didn't know what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;reality&lt;/span&gt; was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love was from mom, dad, brothers and grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food was from the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allowance came when I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust was guaranteed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Support was assured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mistakes were solved with a sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In retrospect, I probably had an easier than anyone else on earth. I never had any critical accidents or made irrevocable mistakes. The most I did was to make a fool of myself (of which I have had my fair share).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the biggest upheaval in life I have ever come across came with making my own decisions in life, particularly my believing in Christ. Though things kind of messed up (though I still believe, just a little less in people) and for a time I slipped into mental isolation, the truth is this; I haven't given up and this life of mine could be so much more. How much more, I don't know. Because between random gossip, I'm haven't gotten a real good picture of the things that lie ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the faces that smiled but hid a secret enmity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the words that were spoken that cut right through flesh and blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the trust that was broken amidst solemn promises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as yet another life stage lies before me, I can't help but wonder what's going to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;change&lt;/span&gt; in my life, apart from the sudden hair loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, I will learn discipline, responsibility, courage and a sense of duty. I'd learn punctuality and make strong bonds with friends in spite (perhaps because) of our common baldness. The daily boredom will be replaced by friendly banter and earnest friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps, my fears will take over and I once again fade into quiet existence, as sickles are drawn and from behind blood is spilled. The me I once thought erased would come back, huddling in the corner, defeated. And as despair takes over, I'll give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a reason. To exist, to strive, to go beyond reactive defeat to proactive success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know. Perhaps you do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2237265762860874552?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2237265762860874552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2237265762860874552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2237265762860874552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2237265762860874552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/158-man.html' title='#158 MAN'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5123315277815865505</id><published>2008-11-21T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T11:10:55.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#157 Triple Post Home Run!</title><content type='html'>Keeping things simple, dreams reachable, is a very fulfilling thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps that's what my life goal's to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wo qi dai de bu zhi shi ai, er shi huo de yi ge you yi yi de ren shen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;期待你的爱 林俊杰&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life 一直在等待&lt;br /&gt;空荡的口袋 想在里面放 一份爱&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why 总是被打败&lt;br /&gt;真的好无奈&lt;br /&gt;其实我 实实在在 不管帅不帅&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;想要找回来 自己的节拍&lt;br /&gt;所以这一次 我要勇敢大声说出来&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;期待 期待你发现我的爱&lt;br /&gt;无所不在 我自然而然的关怀&lt;br /&gt;你的存在 心灵感应的方向我一眼就 看出来&lt;br /&gt;是因为爱&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我猜 你早已发现我的爱&lt;br /&gt;绕几个弯 越靠近越明白&lt;br /&gt;不要走开 幸福的开始就是 放手去爱.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life, an eternal wait.&lt;br /&gt;I wish to place some love in this empty space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I've always seen defeat&lt;br /&gt;I'm losing my patience&lt;br /&gt;I never really cared how I look outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to find it back, my very own courage&lt;br /&gt;And so this time, I'll say it with boldness right out loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I dream that you'll discover my love&lt;br /&gt;All the time I feel it naturally within my heart&lt;br /&gt;The presence and flow of your spirit I can see with one glance&lt;br /&gt;All because of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you've known it all along&lt;br /&gt;After a roundabout, the closer we get the more we understand&lt;br /&gt;Don't walk away, the start of bliss is letting go to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I won't walk away, not this time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5123315277815865505?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5123315277815865505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5123315277815865505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5123315277815865505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5123315277815865505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/157-triple-post-home-run.html' title='#157 Triple Post Home Run!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1596133587988078455</id><published>2008-11-21T09:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T09:27:28.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#156 Double Post In A Day</title><content type='html'>Thought to ponder:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is sex really more desirable than knowledge?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I see more jocks busting their lives on pleasure than nourishing their minds and bodies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1596133587988078455?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1596133587988078455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1596133587988078455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1596133587988078455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1596133587988078455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/156-double-post-in-day.html' title='#156 Double Post In A Day'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2814012751831397305</id><published>2008-11-21T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T08:27:31.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#155 A Quote From A Friend</title><content type='html'>"MARGARINE IS ONE MOLECULE AWAY FROM PLASTIC."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is that not right, that's not even wrong. It's a meaningless statement. Saying something is "one molecule away" from plastic is like saying a farm is one letter away from a fart. Water is "one molecule away" from being explosive hydrogen gas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2814012751831397305?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2814012751831397305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2814012751831397305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2814012751831397305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2814012751831397305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/155-quote-from-friend.html' title='#155 A Quote From A Friend'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-844423241394902624</id><published>2008-11-20T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T08:20:50.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#154 RAWR!</title><content type='html'>I feel powerful. I have just bought Sixology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;小酒窩 is the ultimate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The 粵語版 is beyond ultimate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And while I bask in my make-believe love, I have one thing to share.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everyone should get Sixology. It's nothing sensual or cheeky, but pure goodness (talent-wise).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not that I have any.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But hey, I'm trying.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So says the banana cake.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-844423241394902624?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/844423241394902624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=844423241394902624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/844423241394902624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/844423241394902624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/154-rawr.html' title='#154 RAWR!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6138570210441073498</id><published>2008-11-19T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T06:46:24.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#153 Who Am I</title><content type='html'>I am a banana cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6138570210441073498?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6138570210441073498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6138570210441073498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6138570210441073498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6138570210441073498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/153-who-am-i.html' title='#153 Who Am I'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2311291599923866636</id><published>2008-11-18T08:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:04:56.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#152 The Night Makes No Sense</title><content type='html'>Just as the day is a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do beautiful things happen at night, just when we are about to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is most of the day wasted on mindless droning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the night sky look so beautiful dotted with lights that shine in the dark?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does peace reign in the night, when it is said the light is where we find peace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does our heart race only for a moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does hope come close only in the coolness of the night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because "it is so" doesn't cut it for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2311291599923866636?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2311291599923866636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2311291599923866636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2311291599923866636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2311291599923866636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/152-night-makes-no-sense.html' title='#152 The Night Makes No Sense'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7723126360357044742</id><published>2008-11-14T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T11:05:28.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#151 You Know What's Sad? Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zvbVmCg5M7Y/SR3KvHNlr9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/BU7MF-Fes6I/s1600-h/OMG.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zvbVmCg5M7Y/SR3KvHNlr9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/BU7MF-Fes6I/s400/OMG.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268590049832054738" 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/4385545197845578463-7723126360357044742?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7723126360357044742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7723126360357044742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7723126360357044742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7723126360357044742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/151-you-know-whats-sad-part-2.html' title='#151 You Know What&apos;s Sad? Part 2'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zvbVmCg5M7Y/SR3KvHNlr9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/BU7MF-Fes6I/s72-c/OMG.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3042701793859480250</id><published>2008-11-11T07:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T07:57:40.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#150 You Know What's Sad?</title><content type='html'>I don't want to go to work. I want to laze around for just a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heck, I'll just go to work. Better than rot at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3042701793859480250?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3042701793859480250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3042701793859480250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3042701793859480250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3042701793859480250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/150-you-know-whats-sad.html' title='#150 You Know What&apos;s Sad?'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5332499564205306702</id><published>2008-11-11T07:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T07:56:02.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#149 Solitaire</title><content type='html'>Solitaire by Clay Aiken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a man, a lonely man&lt;br /&gt;Who lost his love through his indifference&lt;br /&gt;A heart that cared, that went unshared&lt;br /&gt;Until it died in his silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Solitaire's the only game in town&lt;br /&gt;And every road that takes him, takes him down&lt;br /&gt;And by himself, it's easy to pretend&lt;br /&gt;He'll never love again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And keeping to himself he plays the game&lt;br /&gt;Without her love it always ends the same&lt;br /&gt;While life goes on around him everywhere&lt;br /&gt;He's playing Solitaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day, a lonely day&lt;br /&gt;So much to say that goes unspoken&lt;br /&gt;And through the night, his sleepless nights&lt;br /&gt;His eyes are closed, his heart is broken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Solitaire's the only game in town&lt;br /&gt;And every road that takes him, takes him down&lt;br /&gt;And by himself it's easy to pretend&lt;br /&gt;She's coming back again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And keeping to himself he plays the game&lt;br /&gt;Without her love it always ends the same&lt;br /&gt;While life goes on around him everywhere&lt;br /&gt;He's playing Solitaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little hope, goes up in smoke&lt;br /&gt;Just how it goes, goes without saying&lt;br /&gt;Solitaire&lt;br /&gt;And by himself it's easy to pretend&lt;br /&gt;He'll never love again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And keeping to himself he plays the game&lt;br /&gt;Without her love it always ends the same&lt;br /&gt;While life goes on around him everywhere&lt;br /&gt;He's playing Solitaire&lt;br /&gt;Solitaire, solitaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the only game around, but what the heck's wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing solitaire in spite of my drowsiness, in spite of being bored to tears already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just can't stand the pointless sleep, and never-ending struggle through the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being overworked fine, but I wish the world was two-dimensional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because having a dysfunctional department isn't fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add the third-world treatment crap (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and not even from my colleagues but some outsiders!&lt;/span&gt;) in, simply because you are a temporary staff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of all that, I am hard-wired to do my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's bliss to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's living a two-dimensional existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work's just work, play's just play; all clear-cut and cookie-cutter style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's life to the fullest to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a far off want. So far I can't even see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just don't tell me how good that side of the grass is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It ain't convincing. You look like a mannequin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can look forward to solitaire. And then some more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5332499564205306702?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5332499564205306702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5332499564205306702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5332499564205306702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5332499564205306702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/149-solitaire.html' title='#149 Solitaire'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7989930588598954592</id><published>2008-11-08T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T20:09:05.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#148 Sigh</title><content type='html'>If Only, Ultra Galaxy wasn't a pay per view show. I'd like to get my hands on all of the Ultra Series, from Showa to Heisei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it bothers me (really!) that I can't catch the Ultra 8 Brothers in theatres. The Ultra Series has a small following of fans culminating in a website &lt;a href="http://www.ultramanlah.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's the King of Hell Castle (Kiva), Final Countdown (Den-O) &amp;amp; GekijoBang! (Go-onger) that I haven't watched. ~_~...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7989930588598954592?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7989930588598954592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7989930588598954592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7989930588598954592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7989930588598954592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/148-sigh.html' title='#148 Sigh'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7669046404852217992</id><published>2008-11-06T06:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T07:36:51.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#148 An Angel In The Distance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...Called out to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Said that I could be more than who I am. That I could become who I was meant to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Told me to come closer, to draw nearer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I felt that sense of familiarity, of belief, of trust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And then silence swept in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You spoke, I couldn't hear. Whispered, yet I didn't understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Were I closer, just a little closer, I'd have grasped the essence of your words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In a span of nothingness, the distance grew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The things I knew I tried to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beyond myself was the starting point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yet beyond that point, the sheet of darkness fell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Was I too far off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You seemed to say no, but I couldn't be sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't self-destruct, there was still hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Was that the voice of you from far off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Or was that just my own mind in self-denial still?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Reason couldn't touch base.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It seems once again I've missed the point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If only, once more, I'd have a second chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd choose not to lose it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And then some more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days back, I was keeping in the laundry in the middle of a thunderstorm. Of course, I was sheltered from most of the rain, because I was technically still in my own home (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the balcony&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A series of unfortunate events (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pun intended, but no other explanation will be given&lt;/span&gt;) occurred, and my anger burned to match the crash of thunder outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, one of the metal clothes stands (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the ones that you put two bamboo poles on top and clip the clothes to them&lt;/span&gt;) toppled over, hitting my leg in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think that it was my aura of rage that knocked it over, but reality has it that the strong gale knocked it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incensed (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and my pride wounded, as an angry man is supposed to destroy, not get hurt; you don't see King Kong hitting a building and breaking a bone&lt;/span&gt;) by that unexpected event, I proceeded to give the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;metal&lt;/span&gt; stand a good kick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a kick. Ronaldo (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or whoever, you get the point&lt;/span&gt;) would have been proud. It was a kick that I would never have undertaken in my usual sane (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;questionable&lt;/span&gt;) state of mind. But then again, back then between the thunder and my rage, I was closer to the Dark Side than to think of how my poor leg would suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I bore the consequences; Not only did I not succeed in doing any visible damage to the stand, I also gave the sole of my foot a wound; one that would haunt me, impairing my movement for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In defeat I limped back into the safety of the living room and back to my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A few hours later&lt;/span&gt;, I noticed another wound still bleeding; one that had been caused by the initial impact of hard, heavy metal upon baby-like (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;okay, maybe not&lt;/span&gt;) skin, flesh and bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, days later, the wound hasn't healed. It's too big to put a plaster on and the bandages at home are yellow from the years of neglect (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;plus I'm to lazy to do anything about it&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So each day, when I get home from work, I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;a hell of a time&lt;/span&gt; pulling the dried blood and plasma from my socks, reopening the wound in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well done, Windez. Well done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings to mind a short conversation I had with Sharon a couple of weeks ago when we met in coincidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharon: You haven't changed at all.&lt;br /&gt;Windez: Yeah, I'm still as dumb as ever. *pokes fingers together*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7669046404852217992?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7669046404852217992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7669046404852217992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7669046404852217992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7669046404852217992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/148-angel-in-distance.html' title='#148 An Angel In The Distance'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2152771229589573187</id><published>2008-11-04T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T06:57:35.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#147 Voila</title><content type='html'>To Kenneth: I've updated your blog link =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for blog tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the rest of the world:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOOHOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, back to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go-onger"&gt;Engine Sentai Go-onger&lt;/a&gt;, bom bom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kamen_Rider_Kiva"&gt;Kivatto Ikuze&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2152771229589573187?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2152771229589573187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2152771229589573187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2152771229589573187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2152771229589573187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/11/147-voila.html' title='#147 Voila'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6382774359587609012</id><published>2008-10-25T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T10:40:35.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#146 Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's not that I don't want to. It's that I don't have the courage to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maybe I don't trust enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But I don't feel safe venturing into uncharted territory, no matter how tempting the "rewards" may seem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So letting the world spin around past me, I give it a pass once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say I'll never know what I'm missing till I try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's why I sing the songs I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Saturday blues. Because I chose to leave half my life behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own eyes, I never was good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6382774359587609012?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6382774359587609012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6382774359587609012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6382774359587609012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6382774359587609012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/10/146-love.html' title='#146 Love'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-123657388338443676</id><published>2008-10-24T05:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T06:12:35.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#145 Who Says Work Cannot Be Interesting?</title><content type='html'>I say so. And that's why I bring you a short story titled Conversations with A Wedding Planner. It came out as a result of spontaneous rubbish generated from a messenger conversation between a bored me and an equally bored cousin of mine, Evelyn, the sotong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the first draft. Several lines of text have been switched around for readability's sake. Otherwise, nothing has been edited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Start of Conversation***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never give out your password or credit card number in an instant message conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;o.o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;nothing&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;rotting at work&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;=x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;me too&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;I'm rotting even more lah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;lunch was good tho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;mine was abit crappy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;wel&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;this afternoon&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;HALF of the office will be vacant&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;cos teh other departments have welfare day&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;PLUS my section manager &amp;amp; superior are on leave&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;gg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;so wht you doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;msnig&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;and msning&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;and msning&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;^^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;at least you have ppl to talk too&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;I'm bored to tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;then go cry&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;=x&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;no la&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;u can sms/msn me&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;im super bored&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;to boredness bored&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;plus bored&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;times bored&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;what work you doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;9am&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;to 6pm&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;today is 5.30pm since its friday (yay for Civil Service)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;wert&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;so crappy I still end at 6&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;haiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;where u work&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;im 15 mins train ride from home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;I'm about half hour train ride away from home - raffles city&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;oh I'm working at your dad's old restaurant venue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;LOL&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;serious?&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;china sq central?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;???!!! so zhun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;yep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;then jimmy leh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;ask him pei u lor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;dhoby ghaut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;nearby la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;he too busy lah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;so&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;what u do usually at work?&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;copypasta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;I do bookings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;great&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to get married&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;can u arrange fro me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;i'll book teh location u find the bride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;not tat kinda bookings idoit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;oh darn&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;serious?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;got such thing one ahz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;but next time I wanna be a wedding planner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;no i was kidding la&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;i alr found a bride&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;its my pillow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;hehe&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;why is your pillow your bride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;we sleep together every nite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;than wat about your blanket and your boaster?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;well&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;they are my mistresses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;wert!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;but recently i've been having problems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;??&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;my wife to be has been ignoring me&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;because i spend too much time staying up late&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;that when i get to bed its almost morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she resents that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;and wat does she do about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she turns smelly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;i think she needs a wash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;i've always been telling her that&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;but she doesnt agree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she says its a reflex action of the anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;-_-"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;so my mom bought me a new pillow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;hia you are damn lame sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;thats why i need a wedding planner urgent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;to get married?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;yesh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;and kick away my smelly wife-to-be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;hehe&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;okok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;so we shall have the ceremony in your room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;im not lame btw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;its prolly my double vision affecting my movement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;and we'll need you to sign the divorce papers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;erm&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;thats a problem&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she ate our marriage cert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;says we'll be butterfly lovers and she'll always been cinderlala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;that till death do us part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;ah&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;when you have a divorce you dun need a marriage cert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;OH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;lolz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;wow thats a relief&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;hehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;but there's another problem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she doesnt have hands&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;she'll make use of that as an excuse not to sign the divorce papers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;it's ok&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;we just need her to stamp her head on it or soemthing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;but what if she threatens to commit suicide/&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;if she does i'll be a sinner all my life!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Butterfly lovers and cinderalla! says:&lt;br /&gt;than we'll bring in the policee and have her arrested&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;what happens if in the scuffle the fluff in her gets dragged out?&lt;br /&gt;work. says:&lt;br /&gt;i'll be a murderer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;***End of first draft***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how does everyone think of it? Potential? =3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-123657388338443676?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/123657388338443676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=123657388338443676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/123657388338443676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/123657388338443676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/10/145-who-says-work-cannot-be-interesting.html' title='#145 Who Says Work Cannot Be Interesting?'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-726701396678730897</id><published>2008-10-23T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T09:34:56.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#144 Why I Bother To Number My Posts, I'll Never Know</title><content type='html'>By the time I attempt to put my thoughts onto e-paper (a.k.a. this blog) my eyes are cloudy and my thoughts are disjointed. It seems my body has come to crave sleep earlier and earlier after I start my temporary job. It's been almost two weeks now and I'm glad to say its working out pretty fine (well, you can't or won't refuse the extra pocket money), and I'm looking forward to my first paycheck in the middle of next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just when I thought things were working out, I received a letter from CMPB. I am going botak/enlisting/losing my freedom/losing my pink I/C on 15 Dec, for 5 &amp;amp; 1/2 days. How cool is that? On the bright side of things, at least I'll be released on either my birthday or the day before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I realise how boring the whole post is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who cares anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bed's calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to sleep now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-726701396678730897?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/726701396678730897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=726701396678730897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/726701396678730897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/726701396678730897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/10/144-why-i-bother-to-number-my-posts-ill.html' title='#144 Why I Bother To Number My Posts, I&apos;ll Never Know'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2420627879808242151</id><published>2008-09-19T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T12:05:30.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#143 It's All Transient</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;A.B.C.D.E.F.G.H.I.J.K.L.M.N.O.P.Q.R.S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful. Imeem limits the playback to just the chorus. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well. In the meantime I've found another buddy who isn't in NS yet, despite being a graduate. Seems like we're stuck in limbo, for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it true when we're stuck in limbo, we tend to veer toward negativity?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like time to count backwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to disappear, fade into dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like for any emotion other than despondency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to feel hope once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd like to wake up in the morning for once.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because the night seems so long.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2420627879808242151?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2420627879808242151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2420627879808242151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2420627879808242151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2420627879808242151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/143-its-all-transient.html' title='#143 It&apos;s All Transient'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6311054802401333907</id><published>2008-09-17T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T10:33:52.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#142 Change</title><content type='html'>I've realised how much I have changed; have taken note. I prepared myself when I was about to leave, but now I wish I hadn't changed so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've become... acerbic in thoughts, quick to deny and despondent about my existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To paint a picture of roses stings my mind thoroughly when I realised how starved I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starved of a sense of direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met Ben after quite a long time. I was late for the movie, but managed to arrive enough to catch most of the action. It was pretty... NC-16 in a few ways, Bangkok Dangerous. After that was a walk from Cathay Cineleisure to Marina Square and then to Bugis for a light meal before Ben went home I continue my outing, this time with my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a week since I last stepped out of my house. That last outing sucked bad. Eating alone in the middle of town felt pointless, and before I finished my meal I felt bloated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the usual me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again these aren't usual times. or I hope they won't be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the past 6 or so months flashed by I realise how life can truly suck. Beyond the literal sense of the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how people who have something to occupy them, be it work or play, move on as if hard-wired for mundane living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But play, to me nowadays, just doesn't cut it. I feel worse than a pile of porcelain antiques; at least they are, though centuries old, of interest/use in the museums for people hungering for a glimpse of the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? I'm just there, made obsolete by my absolute lack of interest in life and all mundane things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder when it all started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because I can't hope for a future when I can't even make sense of my present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6311054802401333907?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6311054802401333907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6311054802401333907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6311054802401333907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6311054802401333907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/142-change.html' title='#142 Change'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3840145879473015312</id><published>2008-09-05T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T08:16:59.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#141 Welcome To My Mind</title><content type='html'>Why do nightmares like to come every night? =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the "to be continued" was not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because words fail me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3840145879473015312?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3840145879473015312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3840145879473015312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3840145879473015312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3840145879473015312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/141-welcome-to-my-mind.html' title='#141 Welcome To My Mind'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8701473003646199840</id><published>2008-09-05T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T10:18:46.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 2a: The Labour Pangs - The Start Of The End?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst the frosted surroundings, a new... being emerges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is long overdue. I realise I cannot write that which I have not experienced or do not know of. So the tale that I had meant to write will be put to rest for now, till the time comes when I am ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 1 can be found &lt;a href="http://lonelysablenite.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8701473003646199840?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8701473003646199840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8701473003646199840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8701473003646199840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8701473003646199840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-2a-labour-pangs-start-of-end.html' title='Chapter 2a: The Labour Pangs - The Start Of The End?'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7358476855753905416</id><published>2008-09-03T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T07:26:11.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#140 Me &amp; My Oreo Cookie</title><content type='html'>With chocolate cream. Conquering boredom in the new restaurant. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*yes! the restaurant has moved!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now located at 32 Kandahar Street (near Arab Street, walking distance from both Lavender &amp;amp; Bugis MRT Station). And I spent an entire day waiting for contractors to come and go while my dad was doing the finishing packing up for the old restaurant location. Today is our last day at China Square Central.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not going to talk about the details of the day, save for the fact that it was way boring. Oreo &amp;amp; I were having a great time till... I got sick of that uber-sweet taste. Then it was just me alone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Remind me never to buy Oreo's with Chocolate Cream. I'm a bland/salt-lover, normal Oreo's will do fine) =X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7358476855753905416?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7358476855753905416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7358476855753905416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7358476855753905416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7358476855753905416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/140-me-my-oreo-cookie.html' title='#140 Me &amp; My Oreo Cookie'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5698608065870513355</id><published>2008-09-01T00:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T00:37:12.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#139 That Grey Shirt</title><content type='html'>A reflection of my worn out emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad says it is a sort of uniform we wore to granny's passing off/away ceremony. Sounds comforting doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet even if I were to choose, I couldn't wear anything brighter; my mood then was as grey as the t-shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And several times then, due to some unhappiness and incidental triggers, I found myself walking away from the wake, sitting alone; sometimes crying, sometimes just singing the emotions I had within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have 7 or so of these t-shirts at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in a twist, I feel that granny's passing gave my family something many families in the present era have either forsaken, or lost sight of;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solidarity. What good is a family if its members are like strangers to each other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And through the past few weeks as I was helping out at the restaurant I learnt from as well as about my dad many things. The more mundane ones to me are the daily operations and his plans to grow the business. The more intrinsic ones are my dad's motivations, stresses, reactions and most of all, his love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also became closer to him and trusted him a whole lot more than I did during the times where I have to admit I strayed in Polytechnic. It has always been drilled in me that there is wisdom in the language of the elders, and I believe that. Somehow, however, through the rush and buzz of daily life I lost track of that wisdom, and was left confused and in disarray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though today marks the end of my short tenure in the restaurant because of the restaurant's shift in location, here I stand a changed person for the good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I stand grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5698608065870513355?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5698608065870513355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5698608065870513355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5698608065870513355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5698608065870513355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/09/139-that-grey-shirt.html' title='#139 That Grey Shirt'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6330104426254817967</id><published>2008-08-31T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T05:46:59.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#138 It Seems Even My Mind</title><content type='html'>Has gone random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These few days I've been remembering people in my life, though not by any external stimuli. I just sit down and suddenly remember someone and ponder about why they were/are in my life and how they have changed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it just makes me wonder if the happenings are for better or worse. It has come to my conclusion though, that whatever has happened, for better or for worse is independent of that which has happened and reliant on what I make out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few minutes (okay maybe close to an hour) ago, I was sitting there taking my dinner when I suddenly remember someone from my secondary school. It made me wonder how that person is doing right now in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That person was someone whom I didn't have the courage to talk to for three over years. And when I finally did, it was all a mess. And then I wanted to run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back makes me want to chuckle in nostalgia, but back then it was grave business. *serious face*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why, but deep inside of me, I'm really not a very sociable person. No matter how much I try to be, there's always this hidden fear that things "don't work out right". The feeling is further amplified if I'm in a crowd, and I just space out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do not as often experience this kind of anxiety in a group of "uncles &amp;amp; aunties", or people at least ten years my senior. I'm not sure why, and probably never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wonder which long lost friend pops up in my mind tomorrow. On hindsight, perhaps it's my subconsciousness' way of "counting my blessings, the people who have made a difference in my life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But whatever the case, I'm looking forward to my new life stage in NS soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6330104426254817967?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6330104426254817967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6330104426254817967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6330104426254817967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6330104426254817967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/138-it-seems-even-my-mind.html' title='#138 It Seems Even My Mind'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1046697138098983261</id><published>2008-08-29T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T05:25:51.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#137 A Song, A Dream, A Conclusion</title><content type='html'>会有那么一天&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;林俊杰&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;一九四三世界大战&lt;br /&gt;阿嬷年轻的时候&lt;br /&gt;爷爷爱他那么多&lt;br /&gt;他们感情很深&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但是爷爷身负重任&lt;br /&gt;就在离乡的那夜&lt;br /&gt;给了阿嬷一个吻&lt;br /&gt;轻声说到&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我要离去别再哭泣&lt;br /&gt;不要伤心请你相信我&lt;br /&gt;要等待我的爱&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;陪你永不离开&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;因为&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;会有那么一天&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我们牵著手在草原&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听&lt;br /&gt;鸟儿歌唱的声音&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听我说声我爱你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;夕阳西下鸟儿回家&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;阿嬷躺在病床上&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;呼吸有一点散漫&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;眼神却很温柔&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;看著爷爷湿透的眼&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;握著他粗糙的手&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;阿嬷泪水开始流&lt;br /&gt;轻声说道&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我要离去别再哭泣&lt;br /&gt;不要伤心请你相信我&lt;br /&gt;要等待我的爱&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;陪你永不离开&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;因为&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;会有那么一天&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我们牵著手在草原&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听&lt;br /&gt;鸟儿歌唱的声音&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听我说声我爱你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我要离去别再哭泣&lt;br /&gt;不要伤心请你相信我&lt;br /&gt;要等待我的爱&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;陪你永不离开&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;因为&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;会有那么一天&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我们牵著手在草原&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听&lt;br /&gt;鸟儿歌唱的声音&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;听我说声我爱你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我爱你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took some time for me to try and put to words a dream that I had three days ago. It was the reason why I posted that I would "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;update another time; when I have the time.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night before then I had a little drinking and catch-up session with Jason &amp;amp; Yeow Chong; my secondary school buddies. Both Jason &amp;amp; I couldn't hold our liquor well; Jason was (I know you're going to deny this =P) blabbering gibberish and being all hyper, while I was trying to keep my mouth shut knowing that alcohol is an easy way to making a fool of myself in public. Yeow Chong was, well, the only sober one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached home expecting to hit the sack immediately, but I guess it was not to be. I finally fell asleep possibly half an hour later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And that's when it all started.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed I came back to a few days just after my granny had passed away. It was probably nearly a week or so, since everyone was back to their normal routine of life. I woke up with fresh tears (in the dream) and habitually went to my granny's room to gaze at her photo (something which I kept at for a few weeks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my astonishment, I saw my granny getting up from her bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked the same, except that she had this dark patches all over her body (I don't know how to describe it, it was as if she was a spectre). I still remember her wearing her blue pyjamas with floral design. She turned to me and acknowledged me with a nod, then went on with her daily activities as if everything was normal. However, her movement seemed mechanic and unearthly (again, I don't know how to describe it; perhaps it was like an engine left unoiled over years).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was terrified. Though granny was doing her normal activities, it seemed unnatural, and I felt extremely uncomfortable. She seemed so forlorn, yet so stoic. I hid myself. When my parents came back in the evening (again, still in the dream), I told them about the whole episode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's when the dream ended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up in tears. It took some time before the tears subsided and I went to get myself prepared for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was in the shower, I thought long and hard at the whole dream. I still don't know why, but upon pondering, it seemed that the whole dream had a message, of which words fall short of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Straight after her death, I lived my life as if without purpose, as if it was the end. I had never known death before. It came so silently, so quickly, and then life demanded that I move on. I thought that I had gotten over it in the rush of my FYP and when I resolved to pull myself out of being self-destructive in my apathy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like a personal message to me, to stop my griefing; to stop being childish and trying to grasp at the sands of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's when I realised that I haven't gotten over the whole episode yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's time I finally move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1046697138098983261?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1046697138098983261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1046697138098983261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1046697138098983261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1046697138098983261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/137-song-dream-conclusion.html' title='#137 A Song, A Dream, A Conclusion'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4060397688314460845</id><published>2008-08-28T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T07:03:17.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#136 A Conversation</title><content type='html'>siggles. _ officially a pre-enlistee =/  --&gt; Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swordsly &lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;  --&gt; Puppy/Jason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;siggles. _ officially a pre-enlistee =/ says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;i am camera shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swordsly &lt;&lt;&gt;&gt; says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;oh nose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swordsly &lt;&lt;&gt;&gt; says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;some1 got smashed by a tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;siggles. _ officially a pre-enlistee =/ says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4060397688314460845?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4060397688314460845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4060397688314460845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4060397688314460845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4060397688314460845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/136-conversation.html' title='#136 A Conversation'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-387983755785974261</id><published>2008-08-27T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:17:52.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#135 A Random Post</title><content type='html'>Because I was listening to Yes 933 and finally found the song I've been wondering about for ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;当你 - 王心凌&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;如果有一天&lt;br /&gt;我回到从前&lt;br /&gt;回到最原始的我&lt;br /&gt;你是否会觉得我不错&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;如果有一天&lt;br /&gt;我离你遥远&lt;br /&gt;不能再和你相约&lt;br /&gt;你是否会发觉我已经说再见&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;的眼睛眯着笑&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;喝可乐&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;找&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我想对你好&lt;br /&gt;你从来不知道&lt;br /&gt;想你想你&lt;br /&gt;也能成为嗜好&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;说今天的烦恼&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;说夜深你睡不着&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我想对你说&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;却害怕都说错&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;好喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;知不知道&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;如果有一天&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;梦想都实现&lt;br /&gt;回忆都成了永远&lt;br /&gt;你是否还会记得今天&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;如果有一天&lt;br /&gt;我们都发觉&lt;br /&gt;原来什么都可以&lt;br /&gt;无论是否还会停留在这里&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;的眼睛眯着笑&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;喝可乐&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;找&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我想对你好&lt;br /&gt;你从来不知道&lt;br /&gt;想你想你&lt;br /&gt;也能成为嗜好&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;说今天的烦恼&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;说夜深你睡不着&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我想对你说&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;却害怕都说错&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;好喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;知不知道&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;也许可是让我想得太多&lt;br /&gt;也许该回到没我&lt;br /&gt;梦里和相遇&lt;br /&gt;就毫不犹豫&lt;br /&gt;大声的说我要说&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;的眼睛眯着笑&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;喝可乐&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;当你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;找&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我想对你好&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;你从来不知道&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;想你想你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;也能成为嗜好&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;啦～啦～&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;我想对你说&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;却害怕都说错&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;还喜欢你&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;知不知道&lt;br /&gt;啦～啦～&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, since my mandarin's so bad I couldn't catch what the DJs were saying regarding the song title till just yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess who I met today? I was just disturbing Samuel on Facebook about being a murderer. I met the murder victim at the bank today: Vanessa, who was helping us with our FYP 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a random mood today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preschool showdown anyone? I'll use my toy cars to ram your sandcastle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That or Wahjong on Viwawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-387983755785974261?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/387983755785974261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=387983755785974261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/387983755785974261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/387983755785974261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/135-random-post.html' title='#135 A Random Post'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8952785063033230374</id><published>2008-08-27T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T08:54:57.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#135 Looking Back, I Asked Myself</title><content type='html'>How much of my current lifestyle is sustainable in the long term future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean is how much of what I am doing each day that I can do 60 years down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late nights are out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partying regular is a big no no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even strenuous sports might be a little too much to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because looking through many blogs I came across one thing in common (to many, though not all), a tendency towards partying hard and enjoying the best of youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the past few weeks in my life have shown, the damage shows only when things are critical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, it's too late when your kidneys are damaged or when the bulk of your physical development has stopped. It's too late when you try to go to the doctors to regain the lost health from almost daily late nights out, pubbing/clubbing and other activities that seem very enjoyable now, only to realise down the road that your body does not heal as well as it did in your twenties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're going to ask yourself why you did all that you did and why you didn't do what you should have done. Regret often times come too late; when the results are irreversible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a night out or two per fortnight won't hurt. But anything more than that and you'd be sacrificing your later years on life-long medication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Education is for a reason. Not to argue with our elders about what's changed in the present compared to the past, but to realise what's important in this path known as life that we all walk along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8952785063033230374?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8952785063033230374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8952785063033230374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8952785063033230374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8952785063033230374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/135-looking-back-i-asked-myself.html' title='#135 Looking Back, I Asked Myself'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5084252170796185737</id><published>2008-08-26T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T02:15:53.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#134 It Seemed Like A Lifetime</title><content type='html'>Since the last post, which was &lt;em&gt;four&lt;/em&gt; days earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure how to put it in a more human way, but on the day of Jump, my&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Persona&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anima&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before anyone goes &lt;strong&gt;OMGWTFBBQ?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Persona: a person's perceived or evident personality,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anima: the inner personality that is turned toward the unconscious of the individual &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;contrasted with persona&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe not. It's all hurting my grey matter. Or white matter. Whatever. Whichever does the thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just put it that I was being hyper in my little own world while not feeling particularly hyper. It's just me seeing/experiencing time gone past with the emotions (or lack of) in the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I sense another &lt;strong&gt;OMGWTFBBQ?!&lt;/strong&gt; coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I learnt something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The restaurant set menus had prices like $123.90++. Or whatever. The main point is the ++.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wondered what that meant? Or even $123.90+++?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well according to my (reliable) source (dad), the +++ means:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Service Charge (1st +)&lt;br /&gt;2. Entertainment Tax (2nd +)&lt;br /&gt;3. GST (3rd +)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The difference between the Service Charge &amp;amp; the GST is that the Service Charge is taken by the restaurant/outlet/pub/whateveryoucallitIdon'tcare. The GST goes to none other than our...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah-Men/Garment/Government. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(hey hey! the evolution of Engrish)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all...for now. My brother's bugging me to go on Battle.net so I'll update another time; when I have the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5084252170796185737?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5084252170796185737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5084252170796185737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5084252170796185737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5084252170796185737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/134-it-seemed-like-lifetime.html' title='#134 It Seemed Like A Lifetime'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2770638073784530707</id><published>2008-08-22T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T10:10:32.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#133 It's Dad's Birthday Today</title><content type='html'>Officially 1 hour has passed midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got out from the bath after Jump. I'm glad I went. Not too sure where to start though except the huge nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I revisited my reason for accepting Christ once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too bad so many people missed it. Sometimes we look too much at how other people have shortchanged us that in our *insert correct word*, we instead shortchange ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few months have been trying but also educational. I dare not say I know the balance of things, but at least I have made a step to realising what is important. Let's just say I will never look at life the same again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realise that as I met everyone, I remember them because I care personally about each of them. I used to wonder why I remember all the brothers and sisters; Genuine concern cannot be faked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's up tomorrow? Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, one doesn't change overnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2770638073784530707?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2770638073784530707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2770638073784530707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2770638073784530707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2770638073784530707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/133-its-dads-birthday-today.html' title='#133 It&apos;s Dad&apos;s Birthday Today'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5767634600035287823</id><published>2008-08-21T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T09:50:06.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#132 I Haven't Come Online In Two Days</title><content type='html'>Such busyness is rare for a sloth like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a random case of selective memory;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geng Yuan (to Elaine, Heng Yu &amp;amp; myself): "Hey, I treat you all to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt; plain prata each!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm dead, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dead&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dead&lt;/span&gt; tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I'm back, for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday's Dad's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5767634600035287823?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5767634600035287823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5767634600035287823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5767634600035287823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5767634600035287823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/132-i-havent-come-online-in-two-days.html' title='#132 I Haven&apos;t Come Online In Two Days'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3117028515648359653</id><published>2008-08-19T10:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T10:05:24.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#131 After All The Fireworks &amp; Fanfare</title><content type='html'>Heh. Why do I get this feeling that I've been hoodwinked and abandoned once again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear me, am I too easily trusting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or just so stupid that I look as if I'm dying to be ripped off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3117028515648359653?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3117028515648359653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3117028515648359653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3117028515648359653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3117028515648359653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/131-after-all-fireworks-fanfare.html' title='#131 After All The Fireworks &amp; Fanfare'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7451650311320911797</id><published>2008-08-18T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T21:20:41.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#130 So It Hasn't Changed</title><content type='html'>And as the days pass, my mistakes in your eyes grow. You never fail to let go of any mistakes I make; repeating them off the top of your head everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not nagging. This is conscience/confidence/future-genocide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the cradle to now you've always been planning for my future, keeping important decisions away by saying," it is too much for an immature mind like yours to handle." But you never look back at your past and remember how as an immature mind you had to handle issues far beyond your years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you wonder why I don't care where my life is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just you want my life to go according to what you plan. And I don't see any shred of space left for me to participate and mould my own future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No skills, no confidence, no conscience, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ask me if I have problems and that I should share with you so you can solve it. Then you tell me how hard you are working and how crappy I have been leading my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How then can I tell you the shallowest of my thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I open up my mouth to speak, you finish the sentence for me in negative ways I could never have thought up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you trying to help me build a positive life through negativity? Or do you just want to see me go to hell if I fail your guidance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I don't like to work there is simple; I'm still within that shroud of negativity that somehow my other brothers do not fall in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first place, you don't believe I can make mature decisions. How then can I amount to anything in such a suffocating environment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sorry I get up late. That's because I wake up 2 hours earlier than you everyday, when someone goes to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put it in a simple way: It's hard to ask you for help when I am going to get criticised. I'd rather just shut up and learn it the hard way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, isn't the hard way the way you always learn?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7451650311320911797?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7451650311320911797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7451650311320911797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7451650311320911797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7451650311320911797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/130-so-it-hasnt-changed.html' title='#130 So It Hasn&apos;t Changed'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2020716833594131675</id><published>2008-08-16T11:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:51:52.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#129 Today...</title><content type='html'>Or rather yesterday (Saturday) was an experience to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bbq went well... except for a few oversights. However the thing which really got to me is this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come so many do not reply to repeated announcements about the bbq or do not attend it after indicating they will attend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some exceptions I would like to mention of, such as Jovin and Jeff, both of who replied and were very consistent with their words. (A few others responded pretty promptly too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what about the rest? I have no doubt Jerrome and Jaslyn can testify the effort each of us put in to making it succeed, not to mention the cost. All that effort caused me to crash out in burnout and I almost couldn't make it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since all's past I'm not going to point fingers or anything, just that I want to make a few points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Preparing the bbq took effort, whether logistics, food-wise or planning. Much effort was wasted in one-way communication and preparing extra food in the likelihood that some who did not reply attended; effort that could have been spent elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. We basically had to throw away half of the food prepared at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Respect. Perhaps we aren't the closest of buddies. But we cared to invite. We cared to open the door, even asking specifically if you would come. Sure we, are no VIP or any big shot. But a simple no would have suffice, even if not accompanied by any reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, I am thankful for the people who came, who enjoyed themselves and who went back fulfilled. It has no doubt been an enjoyable experience. But I feel a stirring in my heart to for the sake of my friends, as well as to Jerrome (the main initiator), to speak out so lessons can be learnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The money can be earnt back, the bbq can be held another time. But the mistakes once ignored will forever come back till the lessons are learnt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2020716833594131675?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2020716833594131675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2020716833594131675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2020716833594131675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2020716833594131675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/129-today.html' title='#129 Today...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7230389327013419844</id><published>2008-08-15T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T04:41:39.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#128 For Some Reason</title><content type='html'>...The blogger dashboard has changed during the span of 3 hours. I was just using Jerrome's laptop to update that previous (and rushed personality test).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o_O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's been a rushed day to say the least, and I am about to go out still! Had a nap while on the train from Pasir Ris back home. Thank God for the seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, our planning and preparation will come to fruition, but it will also mean another long day ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before all the fun and laughter, I'll be heading down with my family to visit my granny's urn at the temple in the morning. It still is going to be a teary affair for me, as I think will be for my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually quite worried for my dad; he's been working really hard for the past three years and through all these time I've been giving him little comfort but many nights of frustration and worries. Next weekend is his birthday. I'm planning something for him. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Through all the pain, the despair and the loss of purpose, I have learnt to smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Through all the hard work and bumbling mistakes, I have learnt to improve from the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So many challenges ahead, but that means greater heights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Above all, I'm thankful for all the blessings I didn't deserve, chances I shouldn't have got and peace of mind which should have been others'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7230389327013419844?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7230389327013419844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7230389327013419844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7230389327013419844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7230389327013419844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/128-for-some-reason.html' title='#128 For Some Reason'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3140666245133358494</id><published>2008-08-15T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T02:34:35.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#127</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(25, 25, 25);   line-height: 17px; font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;h1 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; color: rgb(102, 153, 0); "&gt;Dreamy Idealist (DI)&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Just visiting? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ipersonic.com/test.html" rel="self" title="The Test" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 204); "&gt;Take the free personality test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; and determine your iPersonic type!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Dreamy Idealists are very cautious and therefore often appear shy and reserved to others. They share their rich emotional life and their passionate convictions with very few people. But one would be very much mistaken to judge them to be cool and reserved. They have a pronounced inner system of values and clear, honourable principles for which they are willing to sacrifice a great deal. Joan of Arc or Sir Galahad would have been good examples of this personality type. Dreamy Idealists are always at great pains to improve the world. They can be very considerate towards others and do a lot to support them and stand up for them. They are interested in their fellow beings, attentive and generous towards them. Once their enthusiasm for an issue or person is aroused, they can become tireless fighters.&lt;img src="http://www.ipersonic.com/tags/di.png" border="0" alt="Dreamy Idealist" align="right" style="border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Dreamy Idealists, practical things are not really so important. They only busy themselves with mundane everyday demands when absolutely necessary. They tend to live according to the motto “the genius controls the chaos” - which is normally the case so that they often have a very successful academic career. They are less interested in details; they prefer to look at something as a whole. This means that they still have a good overview even when things start to become hectic. However, as a result, it can occasionally happen that Dreamy Idealists overlook something important. As they are very peace-loving, they tend not to openly show their dissatisfaction or annoyance but to bottle it up. Assertiveness is not one of their strong points; they hate conflicts and competition. Dreamy Idealists prefer to motivate others with their amicable and enthusiastic nature. Whoever has them as superior will never have to complain about not being given enough praise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As at work, Dreamy Idealists are helpful and loyal friends and partners, persons of integrity. Obligations are absolutely sacred to them. The feelings of others are important to them and they love making other people happy. They are satisfied with just a small circle of friends; their need for social contact is not very marked as they also need a lot of time to themselves. Superfluous small talk is not their thing. If one wishes to be friends with them or have a relationship with them, one would have to share their world of thought and be willing to participate in profound discussions. If you manage that you will be rewarded with an exceptionally intensive, rich partnership. Due to their high demands on themselves and others, this personality type tends however to sometimes overload the relationship with romantic and idealistic ideas to such an extent that the partner feels overtaxed or inferior. Dreamy Idealists do not fall in love head over heels but when they do fall in love they want this to be a great, eternal love. &lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(105, 105, 105); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="sharethis_0"&gt;&lt;a class="stbutton stico_default" title="ShareThis via email, AIM, social bookmarking and networking sites, etc." href="http://www.ipersonic.com/type/DI.html#" style="background-image: url(http://w.sharethis.com/images/share-icon-16x16.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-attachment: scroll; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: initial; padding-top: 1px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 22px; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 204); background-position: 0px 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="stbuttontext" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;ShareThis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; color: rgb(102, 153, 0); "&gt;Adjectives which describe your type&lt;/h2&gt;introverted, theoretical, emotional, spontaneous, idealistic, dreamy, effusive, pleasant, reserved, friendly, passionate, loyal, perfectionist, helpful, creative, composed, curious, obstinate, with integrity, willing to make sacrifices, romantic, cautious, shy, peace-loving, vulnerable, sensitive, communicative, imaginative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; color: rgb(102, 153, 0); "&gt;These subjects could interest youl&lt;/h2&gt;iterature, philosophy, psychology, music, art (museums), writing, drawing/painting, astrology, spiritual things, meditation, handicrafts, writing, voluntary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3140666245133358494?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3140666245133358494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3140666245133358494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3140666245133358494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3140666245133358494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/125.html' title='#127'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3686843323991901112</id><published>2008-08-14T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:07:50.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#126 The Shadow Of My Past</title><content type='html'>That I see in another. Only thing that person didn't turn out as I had. Something way more active, more malignant, more aggressive developed. The pain that I know all too well. I feel for that soul but am prevented from helping because the door is closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I made plans, met the star of Saturday and did preparations. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day heading down to the wet market to buy food, get my personal grooming up to standard (I have to admit in the past two months I cared less about how I look than I cared about anything else) as well as make the final preparations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time I am reminded that my dad's birthday is the following Saturday. Going to make plans for that one as well. As he is very busy (by choice and by circumstances), I want to accommodate him and show him that I care just as he cares for me. I've been a stupid kid for a good part of my life (and more good years ahead as Puppy puts it), but I don't want to denigrate into an unloving, ungrateful, hate-filled, self-absorbed, impudent creature, unworthy to be called a son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, those negative adjectives are a mental reminder for me to take note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on the other side of things, tomorrow I find out if I fail or pass. Not much to do except to wait. Whatever the result I'm not going to fret. I deserve a straight fail. This chance is more than I should have gotten. And I am grateful for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sign it off, just to remind myself, I'm going to confess my undying love for my dad, mom, elder and younger brothers, as well as (and especially) my grandmother who has passed away. In my heart she lives on. I should honour that memory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3686843323991901112?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3686843323991901112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3686843323991901112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3686843323991901112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3686843323991901112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/126-shadow-of-my-past.html' title='#126 The Shadow Of My Past'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3395479413280454347</id><published>2008-08-13T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T09:35:59.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#125 Questions</title><content type='html'>And more questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the clock strikes 12 and Jerrome turns 1 year older, a few conversations on MSN made me questioned beliefs, opinions, ideals, principles and progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why we do what we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why we believe what we believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why we think what we think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes my mind go into overload. There are simply too many possibilities I (as a person, an individual in society, a sapling) can veer to in the short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this tinge of sadness at the realisation of how I am beheld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinge of sadness at how we as humans (including and especially myself) can choose to ignore beauty and cause for happiness in indulging in our grievances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty I am talking about is beyond physical; I am referring literally to the sense of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I see, the more I reflect and the more come to question myself; particularly the flawed aspect of my persona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I who I claim to be to others? Am I who others believe me to be? Am I who I believe I am to be? If so, then to what extent? If not, then what am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I see, the more I behold of behaviour and persona in society, the less I feel I know. What is this limit in my mind that I cannot comprehend that which I cannot comprehend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find my grasping at the soil of life, intent on finding more than just solid ground to stand, but the stuff that makes the ground solid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is 1 + 1  = 2? What makes it true? Who determined that? Why do I not question that statement? How much of it is fact? How much of fact is fact? Because fact is not set in stone, how then can I be secure in it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I question the less I know. But I've side-tracked, the purpose of my questioning is to pinpoint this; why are people so fluid; ever changing like the tides in the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do some want me to believe in what they believe yet not want to believe in what I believe in? Where is the balance to the equation? Why are good intentions not factored with emotional needs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am a well of untapped potential; a well whose waters are yet to be drawn. So incomplete and yet on the brink of bursting upon the lands with something close to my heart and new to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is my proficiency only centred around fun and creating a temporary sense of happiness in people? Why do people trust me but yet not trust me? What is trust in the definition that my mind is inclined towards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then my mind says, "Enough for tonight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is that so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I re-read all that I have typed, I realize with sadness, I have unlearned what I have learnt; I have forsaken what I pursued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consequences are dire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3395479413280454347?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3395479413280454347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3395479413280454347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3395479413280454347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3395479413280454347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/125-questions.html' title='#125 Questions'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7729909034518681234</id><published>2008-08-12T09:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T09:39:49.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#124 I Don't Want To Work!</title><content type='html'>I'm a lazy boy. I'd rather stay at home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Grumbles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Grumbles somemore*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said fine, I'll go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Meh... Can I just go down on my own?*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I can skip housework this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I'd rather do housework then get tortured by motion sickness&lt;br /&gt;E v E r Y d A y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's torture I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like getting beaten up daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel my pain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think I'm quitting Legend of the Green Dragon. Getting slain and losing ALL my hard earned experience &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;twice&lt;/span&gt; daily sucks. That and the fact that I'm not getting stronger even though monsters are getting stronger. *Screams imbalance*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still... It's a text-based browser game... I l&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;ve text-based browser games... =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7729909034518681234?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7729909034518681234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7729909034518681234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7729909034518681234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7729909034518681234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/124-i-dont-want-to-work.html' title='#124 I Don&apos;t Want To Work!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6263036632829635858</id><published>2008-08-12T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T01:32:29.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#123 Hmmm...</title><content type='html'>Something's wrong with my Imeem link. As a result I can't hear Keitai Sousakan's OP: Wake You Up by Hitomi Shimatani &amp;amp; Kamen Rider Kiva's Break The Chains by Tourbillion. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got buttpwned by a hectic day at the restaurant. The trip to the restaurant was the one that killed half my energy bar. The trip back home killed the other half. The work took barely any energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why so? Because of my motion sickness (yes, yes I've said this before but...meh) and at least an hour worth of travel time on the road. I almost puked. And then some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was that leather shoe that mashed up my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally saw the new restaurant location. It looks... well it hasn't been renovated and refurbished so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, did I mention my dad's restaurant is the restaurant used in the shoot for the 9pm Channel 8 drama, The Defining Moment? You can clearly see the pictures of the food served there in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no skirt-chaser, much less star-chaser so I kind of forgot about the whole thing till the topic of the restaurant came up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've been missing my grandmother once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just over one month since her passing. I don't like to leave the house nowadays because each time I return, the house looks so empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I stay in I keep forgetting to eat because I'm waiting for her to ask me to buy food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I better get enlisted soon. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*inserts comforting message to self*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*feels comforted*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6263036632829635858?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6263036632829635858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6263036632829635858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6263036632829635858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6263036632829635858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/123-hmmm.html' title='#123 Hmmm...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2083817446473231497</id><published>2008-08-10T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T08:20:46.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#122 A Mental Note To Myself</title><content type='html'>Get up, get some action going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't want to make the same mistake I keep making.  =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I look back on my life and take stock, then look forward and take wind of the opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't have much to say that I haven't already said, whether negative or positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've ignoring the things that pain me in my life; Moving on is such an elusive goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not for the sake of myself, then my family and friends as well as my commitments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd like to smile once again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd like to make you smile too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2083817446473231497?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2083817446473231497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2083817446473231497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2083817446473231497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2083817446473231497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/122-mental-note-to-myself.html' title='#122 A Mental Note To Myself'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8888498677326471944</id><published>2008-08-07T08:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T08:22:35.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#121 Ow Ow Ow!</title><content type='html'>I must have unhinged a screw somewhere during the journey to the wet market. Went with dad to work. (he woke me up because the restaurant was short-handed)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost puked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how crappy my motion sickness is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dropped by after work to disturb Jerrome. He should have quit already, but being the MNG (Mr Nice Guy) he is, he stuck till the schedule is done. If I were him... let's not talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My younger brother bought a chibi-Eeyor from there; it's cute, that's for one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*And yes I find stuffed toys cute even though am close to two-decades-old. Revelation.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone fancy watching cellphones battle cyber-terrorism with a bumbling high-schooler as a buddy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go search Keitai Sousakan 7 (Cellphone Investigator Seven). One word. Awesome. In some ways the robotic cellphones bring out so much more emotion than some people I know. *zips mouth*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"How many times do I have to tell you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; throw cellphones around!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&lt;*!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8888498677326471944?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8888498677326471944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8888498677326471944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8888498677326471944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8888498677326471944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/121-ow-ow-ow.html' title='#121 Ow Ow Ow!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6323071882926492407</id><published>2008-08-06T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:41:14.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#120 Right Day Gone Wrong</title><content type='html'>For the first time in quite some time, I actually felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything was dashed by a phone call from Dad. It was a simple one minute call but it made much impact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I will myself to be stronger when every word you say is poison in my bones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you expect to impart change through negativity? And so many times you've reserved your negativity for me while generously dishing out positivity to my brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I fought with myself inside to change my weakness but at the end of the day, the things I made right you do not see and the things I haven't you magnify. Then you go wondering why I haven't changed the past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is this; you've taken for granted just like I have, and everyone else has. My elder brother says it out loud with vulgarities, my younger brother keeps it in because the status quo is fine for him but me? I'm stuck between the weight of your thumb pressing upon my conscience for my entire life's mistakes and that so near yet so far belief that I might one day be vindicated at least in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad day? Hell ya, bash me for my weakness, my laziness, my lack willpower and self-control. Ignore my weak but existent tries, pleas and attempts. Then wonder how I can this loser's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is, I can't. But you're not giving me any space to grow. And don't start comparing your past with my present. I can't compete with memory bias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well what a nice entry. My whole day's happiness ruined in moments. Now all that's left is some anger and that feeling that I should just give up and end it all somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish there was a "game over, please try again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6323071882926492407?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6323071882926492407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6323071882926492407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6323071882926492407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6323071882926492407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/120-right-day-gone-wrong.html' title='#120 Right Day Gone Wrong'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7329596220152598584</id><published>2008-08-05T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:40:10.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#119 Untitled</title><content type='html'>Because I don't know how to title it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I'm growing lethargic and burnt out. Guess it's finally happening; the damage from the crunch period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have no choice but to stay at home, rest and repair my body. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't move around much without having a headache and a racing pulse. Not that there is much excitement around. That, and my awful loss of sense of taste and appetite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had dinner with Yan Xiang; it's been a long time since our last meet up. Guess he's coming out of NS soon; in contrast, I'm going in soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; I pass my FYP this time round.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7329596220152598584?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7329596220152598584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7329596220152598584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7329596220152598584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7329596220152598584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/118-untitled.html' title='#119 Untitled'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7601195084327713149</id><published>2008-08-04T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T06:42:33.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#118 I Did Something...</title><content type='html'>...Counter intuitive today. I &lt;em&gt;Googled&lt;/em&gt; myself. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what I found? Memories, some of which have long been banished into the deepest recesses of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The experience is beyond explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Breathes in, breathes out*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explanation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7601195084327713149?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7601195084327713149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7601195084327713149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7601195084327713149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7601195084327713149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/118-i-did-something.html' title='#118 I Did Something...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5384791742851033726</id><published>2008-08-03T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T05:27:05.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#117 A Day Off</title><content type='html'>Finally. After all that stress. I'm proud to say I'm free by choice. Let go of blame and grasped on to a renewed interest in life. I used to think that if I ever were to fall, crash and burn, I'd be better off disappearing and not dragging anyone else down. Can't say I've totally overcome this thought, but it's good to know that I won't stay down forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've learnt it the hard way. What's "it"? "It" is the empowering feeling of taking charge of my life and not wallowing in self-pity saying its all gone to pieces and I should exist my life away on some make-believe world of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because when the truth hits, it hits hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am seriously looking forward to Jerrome's birthday celebration. Big plans for that, brother! But then I've been teasing you all week about being your best man so... I guess you know! What's coming up? Not telling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on a more personal note, I've began to revisit that feeling of love once again by chance. Not by choice that one, but when it strikes... well it strikes. Things are a little (or more) complicated this time round though but I'm enjoying breath of fresh air from the mundane life I've been dragging my feet about in all this while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once again the peeps in Battle.net are making fun of my laggy laptop. *Hmph*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Careful I don't fling an MRL at you. =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5384791742851033726?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5384791742851033726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5384791742851033726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5384791742851033726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5384791742851033726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/117-day-off.html' title='#117 A Day Off'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3601980633508534226</id><published>2008-08-02T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T09:39:26.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#116 A Day Chock Full of Events!</title><content type='html'>Slept at 11pm plus yesterday night. After a particularly fitful sleep, I got up at 4.30am and waited the agonising span of time to my FYP presentation/oral defense. The time finally came and I got less than what I deserved (I deserved a good berating and a red mark on my score sheet). And so the FYP presentation consisted mostly of 3 hours of minesweeper games while constantly reminding Jerrome of my lack of confidence and extreme fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then everything seemed to pass as soon as it started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relieved (though we knew we had a low chance of passing) at the summation of the ordeal (FYP), we got brunch, took a train to my house and started "destressing" (i.e. playing games).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after, Jerrome left and my family and I headed down for a dinner with Dad's friends and their families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not exactly extremely close, but because of the strong bond between our fathers, we kind of gelled together, the guys. And for the first time (I recall), Sylvia (one of the uncle's daughter) joined us for our regular guys' boardgame meet-ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a dramatic turn of events; my usual good luck streak took a roundabout turn; I was routed in every single &lt;em&gt;Citadel&lt;/em&gt; game (two games which lasted like forever).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first match I was but one building to victory when everyone started to gang up on me. Wilson got the win for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second match I got assassinated the first round and had my gold stolen the two rounds after. Two rounds later I had my gold stolen &lt;em&gt;yet&lt;/em&gt; again. Don't need to guess what happened at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that it was time to head home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies; the first time we met was at least a decade ago. Ten years on, we're still friends. I wonder what will happen in the year ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3601980633508534226?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3601980633508534226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3601980633508534226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3601980633508534226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3601980633508534226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/116-day-chock-full-of-events.html' title='#116 A Day Chock Full of Events!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1371022789716953503</id><published>2008-08-01T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T08:35:55.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#115 Psst!</title><content type='html'>*Whisper whisper*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm super afraid of what happens tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of that, I'm going to sleep early, wake early, prepare myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Insert well-wish to self*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way tomorrow's not going to wait for me so, ja!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wake up fever!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1371022789716953503?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1371022789716953503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1371022789716953503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1371022789716953503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1371022789716953503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/08/115-psst.html' title='#115 Psst!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6833611564648172111</id><published>2008-07-31T10:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T10:05:38.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#114 Possibly...</title><content type='html'>...The stupidest game encounter I've ever come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From: system (2008-07-31 09:59:57)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Shirley was captured by soldiers and forced to be a mess hall cook.In the middle of the night, she snuck out with a mother pig in hand, and scurried back. she obtainined 2467 in food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost fell over my chair when I read it. But that's what's interesting about browser-games, I've come to realise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It puts a smile to your face at times when you least expect it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like Indie VS Hollywood. You don't get perfect but you get moments of genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why do they look at me like I could be of worth? I'm just me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6833611564648172111?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6833611564648172111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6833611564648172111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6833611564648172111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6833611564648172111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/114-possibly.html' title='#114 Possibly...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8222757012703990011</id><published>2008-07-30T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:25:53.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#113 I've Come To Realise</title><content type='html'>I am human. Okay maybe I haven't &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; found out. But I'm talking about the allegorical. Human weakness is all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I realise that throughout my life I've been giving up power in exchange for status quo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start to want the things that others have gotten (once again, not literal); worldly possessions and so on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to see true success once again, not the success that blinds us to our spiritual poverty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I am as sane as another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In times of insanity, I dream of something greater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To understand, think lateral. Life is non sequitur. We are three...no, &lt;em&gt;five&lt;/em&gt; (or more) dimensional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us not act like two-dimensional beings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8222757012703990011?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8222757012703990011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8222757012703990011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8222757012703990011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8222757012703990011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/113-ive-come-to-realise.html' title='#113 I&apos;ve Come To Realise'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-5589885790885781834</id><published>2008-07-29T08:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T08:53:48.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#112 FAIL!</title><content type='html'>I just thought of a few jokes and I think they really fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, no one ever laughs at my jokes. They only laugh because I am telling them. =x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay here goes nothing (&gt;_&lt;)"! :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. My life is a comic. It's non-sequitur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A: Why so serious? B: Why so stupid?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many people I have killed with my complete &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lack&lt;/span&gt; of humour. *zips mouth*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder Jit Min says people laugh at me. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah! I miss those days in Year 1 when I wore undersized t-shirts, cut hairstyles that would top the "Most Disastrous Hairdo Ever" any day &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; lunched with a brother who would hit his head with a water bottle whenever he made a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;echo "I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; talking about you, Jerrome."&lt;br /&gt;//Said in low-pitched Heng-Yu-like voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could add wearing velcro strapped shoes to that list without lying. =X&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-5589885790885781834?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/5589885790885781834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=5589885790885781834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5589885790885781834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/5589885790885781834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/112-fail.html' title='#112 FAIL!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2994002035695726651</id><published>2008-07-28T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T07:55:11.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#111 In The Aftermath</title><content type='html'>Sounds bad right? The title I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Insert negative thoughts*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little update; I finished my FYP and submitted it. To be honest, even getting a D grade is difficult. But hey, I'm liking what I read (story-wise)  and it's a real good experience learning a programming language from scratch, self-motivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up next is my Professional Profile evaluation; just thinking about it gives me the jitters. I haven't had a good night's sleep for weeks now; I still won't until Wednesday is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case I caught up with Arch @ Mark (my cabal buddy), over the phone and then through msn. I kind of just went to random read his blog and realised something. We've been through at least similar circumstances, though I believe he's been through worse. And from what I see now (though we are not that close and don't really hang out so much), he's stronger than before his problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really should be too, so I'm striving for that, in the midst of my lack of self-confidence and motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't try I'll always regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the lighter side of things, it seems I've kind of lost interest (most probably temporarily) with my games. I go in and try to play two games and end up leaving my keyboard for most of the time in the second game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's possibly signifying that my priorities have shift, possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure do hope so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2994002035695726651?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2994002035695726651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2994002035695726651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2994002035695726651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2994002035695726651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/111-in-aftermath.html' title='#111 In The Aftermath'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3374414377689024174</id><published>2008-07-27T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T12:48:38.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#110 I Have...</title><content type='html'>Repeated the same mistakes I made a year ago about 4 times now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realised my "giving up" would never work. Reality is such that it slaps you out of your stupidity...in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no such thing as a fairytale ending. But there is also no such thing as an irrevocable end. Or at least I haven't experienced that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My codes continue to screw me over while my life, my reminiscence and reflection continually bring me full circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I realise I'm standing back at square one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not all bad though; at least I realised what I have missed out. Life; lot's of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my 2nd day staying over at Jason's (sec school mate if you guys were wondering) house. If you skip the 2 days of rest I've had in between sleep overs, I have clocked at least 1 1/2 weeks out of 2 weeks (I think, because my brain doesn't work so well) away from my own bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to cheer myself up I'll say this:&lt;br /&gt;It's do or die!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3374414377689024174?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3374414377689024174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3374414377689024174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3374414377689024174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3374414377689024174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/110-i-have.html' title='#110 I Have...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7284126954142901779</id><published>2008-07-26T11:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T11:11:35.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#109 Dear Family</title><content type='html'>I'd be letting you all down if I were to give up at this moment. And yet I so feel like giving up, because of the amazing odds stacked against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning a programming language from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting it into actual practice for a game my future depends on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasting yet another few thousands of our family's money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Causing Dad and Mom to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realised it too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never could run away from the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now as I sit here, I realised I've gained so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at what cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind must have been way dense to not learn it the time when Granny passed away; a life lost, at what cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't deserve anything I have right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My conclusion? Never give up, if only for the lost cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit* If you think today is your last, how would you live it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind's hurting, conscience's grieving, muscle's aching and breathing's shallow but somehow I'm living as if tomorrow might be a better day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Please let it come to pass, if only for what I may have become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7284126954142901779?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7284126954142901779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7284126954142901779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7284126954142901779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7284126954142901779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/109-dear-family.html' title='#109 Dear Family'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7208719612217563951</id><published>2008-07-23T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T22:38:03.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#108 Hmmm...</title><content type='html'>I never expected myself to like programming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But PHP and MySQL database programming is interesting to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past 3 days I have been staying over at Jason drummer's house rushing my belated FYP project, and I am seriously surprised at my sudden diligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's the urgency (although way overdue as my dad correctly pointed out). I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much new to update except that my project excites me in ways I have long lost touch with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a web-based story/game hybrid with several personal innovations;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story excites me;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anticipating the completed piece excites me;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh, think I've been doing too much programming; I'm even ending sentences with semi-colons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For your information, semi-colons are separators and are used to distinguish one set of instructions from another. Kind of like a full stop at the end of each sentence so you know when the next sentence starts.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got some apologies to make, especially about my behavior I guess. I should have accepted situations as is and not fall into the trap that so many people have; clumping past bitterness together in a jam-packed dose of self-administered poison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I'm going to tie up the loose ends and fix my situation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7208719612217563951?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7208719612217563951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7208719612217563951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7208719612217563951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7208719612217563951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/108-hmmm.html' title='#108 Hmmm...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4954195022821227953</id><published>2008-07-20T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T09:41:27.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#107 People Stare Into Water</title><content type='html'>And see their future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? I stare into the wall and see my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adobe Photoshop, Flash &amp;amp; Dreamweaver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss your brain goodbye. That and your CPU.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4954195022821227953?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4954195022821227953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4954195022821227953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4954195022821227953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4954195022821227953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/107-people-stare-into-water.html' title='#107 People Stare Into Water'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4034451607284957978</id><published>2008-07-19T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T11:16:40.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#106 Another Post</title><content type='html'>That deleted post was probably made in anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll admit it. It was made in anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how I give up so easily, then rush to repair things after it's too late. Like my Final Year Project. It's overdue, my parents are mad/worried/concerned and I am rushing my living hours out just to complete it solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's my increasing delusion with myself. I'm sorry I can't hang on to positivity any longer. I'm no superman, and I'm no Odie. I'd probably be closer... to the pessimistic Garfield at this stage. Too bad I ain't fat; I feel like Garfield all of a sudden; sans the fats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am in the wee hours of the day rushing my ass off working on borrowed (literally) time when I could have fixed everything nice and proper on schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm already horrible as it is. But somehow someone seems to like to put me down, like I'm sort of irrepentable failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I just feel like proving him right, right about now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's count the issues right out loud shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have no (as in zero) confidence in myself. Never did, I've come to realise, though there was once upon a time I thought I really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I like to postpone my problems (and put up a false front which apparently doesn't work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I don't know how to react to negative statements about my ability when they are coupled with statements that seem to want to help me to improve because its contradictory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't understand? Simply put it, 1 - 1 = 0. I don't understand how to solve the problem when someone tells me I'm a failure, and then tells me that I should something (like working hard for example)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. This whole thing about creativity is tearing my brains apart. Why so? Because you've got all the ideas in the world but you've got no substance to turn them into reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Sometimes I find my games an oasis, not because I really want to play, but because it is there where I get (at least momentarily) respect, fulfilment. I know, I know, it's temporal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, when everyday someone says, "You've done this wrong, I don't understand how you can live your life this way," when obviously his life is nothing rosy either, you kind of have to have to find an avenue for self-esteem or go insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Because of all of the above, I'd rather stick to myself and stay alive on digital environments, because you can easily pull the plug anytime you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a final word (or sentence, or even sentences). I'm sorry for not being the person everybody thinks I am. I just not am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, I think I'll need some time to quiet off. That, and my FYP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time's a ticking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit* And grandma. Where oh where are you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4034451607284957978?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4034451607284957978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4034451607284957978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4034451607284957978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4034451607284957978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/106-another-post.html' title='#106 Another Post'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4677892272981293184</id><published>2008-07-16T07:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T07:48:00.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#105 Hello Blog</title><content type='html'>I just realised I haven't talked to my blog in ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here goes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi blog! How are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Awaits reply*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hello world, I miss my grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit* I think I don't care, but I feel otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paralysed by inability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contradicted by promises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mental limbo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll make the impossible possible by ignoring what's impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the laughs, kicks, short-term adrenaline, if nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not believing in myself; it's just that 3 second high temperature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4677892272981293184?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4677892272981293184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4677892272981293184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4677892272981293184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4677892272981293184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/105-hello-blog.html' title='#105 Hello Blog'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1032375958706477609</id><published>2008-07-07T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T07:59:15.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#104 The Dark Candle</title><content type='html'>A man had a little daughter - an only and much-beloved child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lived for her - she was his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when she became ill and her illness resisted the efforts of them best obtainable physicians, he became like a man possessed, moving heaven and earth to bring about her restoration to health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His best efforts proved unavailing and the child died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father was totally irreconcilable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He became a bitter recluse, shutting himself away from his many friends and refusing every activity that might restore his poise and bring him back to his normal self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one night he had a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was in Heaven, and was witnessing a grand pageant of the entire little child angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were marching in an apparently endless line past the Great White Throne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every white-robed angelic child carried a candle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He noticed that one child's candle was not lighted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he saw that the child with the dark candle was his own little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rushing to her, while the pageant faltered, he seized her in his arms, caressed her tenderly, and then asked: "How is it, darling that your candle alone is unlighted?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Father, they often re-light it, but your tears always put it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then he awoke from his dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson was crystal clear, and its effects were immediate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that hour on he was not a recluse, but mingled freely and cheerfully with his former friends and associates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer would his darling's candle be extinguished by his useless tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For You have delivered my soul from death. Have you not kept my feet from falling, That I may walk before God In the LIGHT of the living ?" (Psalms 56:13NKJ)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus Loves You!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1032375958706477609?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1032375958706477609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1032375958706477609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1032375958706477609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1032375958706477609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/104-dark-candle.html' title='#104 The Dark Candle'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4698192207343855506</id><published>2008-07-06T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T16:32:16.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#103 To Eternity &amp; Beyond</title><content type='html'>I just binged on food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I'm feeling much better. After all, my thoughts were centred around two things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Where does Granny go after she passes away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My cousins &amp;amp; I prayed for her salvation in Spirit and we believe that God has mercy and forgiveness. Perhaps through me by extension some miracle will happen. Either way I have no right, no say and no power. So there is no point worrying. (As per Puppy's previous tag).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. How to cope with Granny's departure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- She's in a better place (I believe) than having needles and wires poked into her, having to struggle to breathe, to survive, to fight a losing battle at her age. I centre this point upon the first; first and foremost is her well-being. My emotions will take second place since they have no bearing upon the future (in the sense that I cannot change anything).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I still miss her and think about the past, that remains as a beautiful memory to keep in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now terribly tired and mentally splintered but it will all return to normal when I get more rest. Just couldn't get enough sleep. Procession's going on later; She will be cremated and her niche be placed in the temple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4698192207343855506?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4698192207343855506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4698192207343855506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4698192207343855506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4698192207343855506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/103-to-eternity-beyond.html' title='#103 To Eternity &amp; Beyond'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1304900462553496552</id><published>2008-07-05T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T10:29:14.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#102 The End</title><content type='html'>Of her suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother passed on at 7.10am this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching her get off the blood pressure drugs and losing strength was the toughest thing I have ever done in my whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment I wished I had died with her. But I guess I have to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big thanks to Jason/Puppy for attending the wake with me, for taking my crap, my tears and for sharing with me about her being in a better place. I feel much better, even though the tears still come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wake will be on till monday, before the procession to the temple and subsequent cremation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who wants to can come for a visit. Just drop me an sms. My phone died but I have a replacement phone ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed for her soul; my grandmother had not yet received the Lord into her life when she passed on. I hope everyone who sees this can help me pray for her soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's another tough day ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for the regular emails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend, Don't Look Down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, a young sailor went to sea for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after their departure, his ship encountered a heavy storm and the sailor was commanded to go aloft and trim the sails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About three quarters of the way up, the young sailor made the mistake of looking down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roll of the ship combined with the tossing of the waves made for a frightening experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man started to lose his balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, an older sailor underneath him shouted, "Look up, son! Look up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young sailor did as he said -- he looked up and regained his balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, when our focus is on the circumstances that we face, the waves of life, we can easily lose our balance and our direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when we switch our focus on to the victory that the Lord has already provided -- it is then that we will be able to maintain our stability, finish the assignments we've been given and get to the top!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend, are you feeling unstable today? Let's look up! There's no reason to look anywhere else -- Look to God, He will give you victory !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalms 98:1 O sing unto the LORD a new song; for he hath done marvellous things: his right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will look to You.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1304900462553496552?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1304900462553496552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1304900462553496552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1304900462553496552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1304900462553496552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/102-end.html' title='#102 The End'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-6527924353775836207</id><published>2008-07-03T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T22:55:29.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#101 Granny Will You Wake Up?</title><content type='html'>She's now in the ICU; assisted breathing and blood pressure. Yesterday, my younger brother and I went to the hospital later than planned. I'm glad for the seemingly bad timing, even though we couldn't really get to see her fully conscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granny was vomitting, already semi-conscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After holding the basin awhile and letting her get things out of her system, we thought she was fine when she dozed off. Mom told us to go get our dinner then go home, but I still wanted to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point onwards, granny's health deteriorated rapidly. Within 15mins, granny could no longer respond to us consciously. Within 5 hours, she was wheeled into the ICU. Since 3am, doctors have told us twice to be prepared for the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And only at 3am yesterday, 2 days after admission and months of regular check up, we found out that the immediate (and life-threatening) danger was renal failure and that she needed immediate dialysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then her blood pressure had dropped too low to be able to undergo dialysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, after regular check-ups and warnings of a weak kidney, we were not told to keep aware that her kidney could fail at anytime, was the question that burned in my mind. Instead, we were told her kidney was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at all the tubes inserted into her frail, thin body and seeing her in that state put me at a loss for words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 1.30am on Tuesday, I could only wait. Two days later, at the same timing on Thursday, I could only wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now her life hangs in the balance from something she had no mental preparation about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks for everyone who prayed for her. If you can, I would really appreciate if you continued to do so. The reason why I put her name down in the sms was that I know that the Lord knows her by name, even if we may not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-6527924353775836207?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/6527924353775836207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=6527924353775836207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6527924353775836207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/6527924353775836207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/101-granny-will-you-wake-up.html' title='#101 Granny Will You Wake Up?'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1400028373114490692</id><published>2008-07-01T15:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T15:54:34.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#100 I Have This Urge To Blame Myself</title><content type='html'>For a silly little thing, posting this last post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't want to admit it, but I can feel her going somewhere I can't go just yet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 6.45am and I've just reached home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma's in NUH, waiting for a bed to be available. In the meantime she'll be well taken care of by trained, professional staff in the temporary ward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's got low sodium in her blood but that's all we know for now, and that's not yet proven to be the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll recap a little:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9am, I woke to a "hangover" because of a combination of the lack of sleep the previous day, stress and a whole lot of tears. I went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12pm, finally got up and gave grandma her inflammation medicine, then went to do the laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma takes her regular (not inflammation) medicine and inhaler. She then proceeds to the toilet. This scenario repeats unending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.15pm, I leave house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11pm, I arrive home and go online. Grandma's upstairs still taking her regular medicine and inhaler, before going to the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1am, after some clumsy attempts by me to get her to stop the routine and sleep, my dad gets home. We bring her to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And now, I don't feel like sleeping just yet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1400028373114490692?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1400028373114490692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1400028373114490692' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1400028373114490692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1400028373114490692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/07/100-i-have-this-urge-to-blame-myself.html' title='#100 I Have This Urge To Blame Myself'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1796593161914551381</id><published>2008-06-30T09:47:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T09:54:33.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#99 A Few Things I'd Like To Say To Myself</title><content type='html'>Get off your chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get on with your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the main worry (of my family I believe, is my granny).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is showing signs of dementia; she is so thin now my lack of body mass pales in comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that strength of hers; a decade ago (that's roughly 2/19 of her total life so far) she was still able to carry weights that would disgrace some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always felt that she probably felt abit left out. Everyone else in the family seems to be either starting out or going through advancements in their life; her has past her peak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder she tries with much difficulty to do the things she used to do with ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in the midst of her daze she goes around busying herself with household chores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to admit it, but I can feel her going somewhere I can't go just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what? She gave me my birth name. Wui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1796593161914551381?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1796593161914551381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1796593161914551381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1796593161914551381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1796593161914551381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/99-few-things-id-like-to-say-to-myself.html' title='#99 A Few Things I&apos;d Like To Say To Myself'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8458625183301094757</id><published>2008-06-29T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T03:36:32.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#98 The Clock's Ticking</title><content type='html'>It's 6.30pm. 4 more (ish) hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*pokes fingers*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so not "good" stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I won't need a hair dye; it'll come naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm being to tire of the ugly side of neglect and blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for wasting your money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for making you angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for not heeding your advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah right, you only appear when I get in trouble and proceed to tell me how useless I am and how much of your time, money, energy, effort I've wasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to believed that, just like how I used to believe in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... nah. *shakes head*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8458625183301094757?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8458625183301094757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8458625183301094757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8458625183301094757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8458625183301094757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/98-clocks-ticking.html' title='#98 The Clock&apos;s Ticking'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2889761042011893507</id><published>2008-06-28T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T09:27:00.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#96 A Treat For All Of Y'all</title><content type='html'>Because I'm delirious from two days' worth of brain-shrinking insert-random-action, enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When Bad Writing Becomes Funny"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Assorted Authors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling bowl wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOUR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 pm instead of 7.30pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NINE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELEVEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWELVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36pm traveling at 55mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19pm at a speed of 35mph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOURTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIFTHTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIXTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVENTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHTEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy, like, whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2889761042011893507?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2889761042011893507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2889761042011893507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2889761042011893507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2889761042011893507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/96-treat-for-all-of-your.html' title='#96 A Treat For All Of Y&apos;all'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7472189742813749248</id><published>2008-06-28T02:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T02:21:41.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#96 The Current Progress</title><content type='html'>Of my *stupid* P *crap* P *bullshyt*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Drummer - Ishimaru Takumi 2008 - the rhythm flows from within...&lt;br /&gt;Windez - Pop. Ur. Nutz. s zhall now b replaced by z.O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ishimaru Takumi 2008 - the rhythm flows from within... says:&lt;br /&gt;IMO you need to remove alot of things :x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pop. Ur. Nutz. s zhall now b replaced by z.O_o says:&lt;br /&gt;o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pop. Ur. Nutz. s zhall now b replaced by z.O_o says:&lt;br /&gt;which which&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ishimaru Takumi 2008 - the rhythm flows from within... says:&lt;br /&gt;UNLESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ishimaru Takumi 2008 - the rhythm flows from within... says:&lt;br /&gt;you can find out how do past generation become teacher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pop. Ur. Nutz. s zhall now b replaced by z.O_o says:&lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T_________________________________________________T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7472189742813749248?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7472189742813749248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7472189742813749248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7472189742813749248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7472189742813749248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/96-current-progress.html' title='#96 The Current Progress'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3148974083981103095</id><published>2008-06-28T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T01:27:10.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#95 STUCK!</title><content type='html'>Because my dad received a letter from the school, I am now stuck at home till I finish my *stupid* P *crap* P *bullshyt*. (Censored so I don't get in trouble with any authorities. The internet isn't a safe place now. *sad face*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now going to sit by and dream to oblivion while I miss the first service after I "&lt;strong&gt;woke up&lt;/strong&gt;" and Jeff's birthday *bash*. Everyone's going to have fun while I lose precious grey matter and other brain matter on a SWOT analysis everyone knows is *C$R(A)P!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the stIpUd mistake of retaking when I could have done *C$R(A)P! and gotten away with it last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for my stIpUdity =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry, I'm still sane, just bored out of my witless wits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit* On this lonely, boring day. Give me Blassreiter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. for more information, please search "Blassreiter" on youtube/crunchyroll. It's a pretty good (as well as well-subbed) anime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3148974083981103095?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3148974083981103095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3148974083981103095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3148974083981103095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3148974083981103095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/95-stuck.html' title='#95 STUCK!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3877982977274673474</id><published>2008-06-27T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T07:16:29.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#94 Windez, You Gotta Control!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A Little Boys Temper&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There once was a little boy who had a bad temper.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the fence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Over the next few weeks as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily, gradually dwindled down.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He said "you have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You can put a knife in a man and draw it out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Make sure you control your anger next time you are tempted to say something you will regret later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People with a hot temper do foolish things; wiser people remain calm." "If you stay calm, you are wise, but if you have a hot temper, you only show how stupid you are." The terms "stupid" and "fool" in Proverbs refer to sin and error, not mental ability. (Proverbs, 14:17 &amp;amp; 29 Verses).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blessed to have regular inflow of such emails!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time it also serves to remind myself of who I am trying to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who I am right now (value-wise, personality-wise, principle-wise) is lacking but to get to who I am to become, I've got to persevere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still make the same old stIpUd mstakes, but with conscious effort I will make it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was bitter at my dad today, because of some very real concerns. I also lost a lot of my compassion and self-propelled intiative because what the adults were portraying was obviously contradictory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like telling you to ask and chiding you for not knowing the answers to simple tasks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or telling you to take the initiative then making it as if they blamed you for making a mistake when you finally sum up the courage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or telling you to settle one argument at a time and keeping other unrelated incidents separate from the main issue; then dragging back 5 year old mistakes that you've made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment I felt like shouting, "You double-faced, double-standard loser! Get lost!" in obviously less cordial terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's no point stirring up the sleeping dragon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll just do it His way. =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3877982977274673474?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3877982977274673474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3877982977274673474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3877982977274673474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3877982977274673474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/94-windez-you-gotta-control.html' title='#94 Windez, You Gotta Control!'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7301905369857381461</id><published>2008-06-25T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T08:35:07.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#93 I Just Felt Like Blogging</title><content type='html'>Even though I've got nothing really much to blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess finally I'm starting to get a nurse a sense of adventure and a set of aspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me excited just thinking about them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a _ _ _ _ _ _!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get a _ _ _!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to make sense of my _ _ _ _ _ _ _ in a new way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ in a way like never before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to never _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ ever again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ my concern for the people whom I care about but keep inside due to my introverted nature!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it is a repeat,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ through _ _ _ _ _!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lines are still empty because they are not yet fulfilled, and because I am not yet comfortable enough to proclaim them out loud (hey, I still have my face/pride okay!) but I have a positive feeling about them! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting how I easily I found some primary school classmates' contact details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God, You do have a plan for them too right? Because I'd like to be involved in it too. =) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7301905369857381461?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7301905369857381461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7301905369857381461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7301905369857381461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7301905369857381461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/93-i-just-felt-like-blogging.html' title='#93 I Just Felt Like Blogging'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2062207825125135193</id><published>2008-06-24T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T21:06:13.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#92 What A Difference A Night Makes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It Depends Whose Hands It's In&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A basketball in my hands is worth about $19&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A basketball in Michael Jordan's hands is worth about $33 million.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A baseball in my hands is worth about $6.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A baseball in Mark McGuire's hands is worth $19 million.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It depends whose hands it's in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A rod in my hands will keep away some wild animals.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A rod in Moses' hands will part the mighty sea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands is a couple of fish sandwiches.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Two fish and 5 loaves in God's hands will feed thousands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It depends whose hands it's in.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So put your concerns, your worries, your fears your hopes, your dreams, your families and your relationships in God's hands because it depends whose hands it's in.&lt;/p&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to get my insights in the wee hours of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By not knowing myself I get to know God more, and by that to know who I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I realise the past joy was only the seed; now I am truly born again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised how familiarity creates a comfort zone, and that I lost everything there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My answer lays not in isolation and my dreams lie not in the mundane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My caller in highest, therefore my calling will be the greatest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life will be fruitful and my days will be eternal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All because of the promise of John 10:10, to have life, and have it to the full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John 12:44-45 Then Jesus cried out, "When a man believes in me, he does not believe in me only, but in the one who sent me. When he looks at me, he sees the one who sent me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So through my belief in Jesus I believe in my future and all that God promises in Jeremiah 29:11, and I will seek Him and find Him. v13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What good can come from Galilee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What good can come from me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For He made everything that was, is and will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His grace is enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2062207825125135193?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2062207825125135193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2062207825125135193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2062207825125135193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2062207825125135193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/92-what-difference-night-makes.html' title='#92 What A Difference A Night Makes'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7359669887280432506</id><published>2008-06-24T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T11:06:22.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#91 As Requested By Kira</title><content type='html'>A.k.a. Blake (Quack quack!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a loose translation of the song, which I found online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;洋葱 周恒毅&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onion by Aska Yang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only your gaze would look upon me&lt;br /&gt;If only you could hear the sound of a heartbreak&lt;br /&gt;Silently watching over you, silently waiting for a miracle&lt;br /&gt;Silently letting myself fade like air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is eating, talking and laughing in the happiness of tonight&lt;br /&gt;The inner most of me, laughing in unison&lt;br /&gt;The onions at the bottom of the plate are just like me, forever the flavouring&lt;br /&gt;Secretly watching you, secretly hiding myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are willing to peel open my heart layer by layer&lt;br /&gt;You will discover, you will be shocked&lt;br /&gt;You are my most suppressed, deepest secret&lt;br /&gt;If you are willing to peel open my heart layer by layer&lt;br /&gt;Your nose will run, your eyes will tear&lt;br /&gt;If only you can hear and envision my devotion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing you talk about you and your many other ‘him’ and the blossoming love&lt;br /&gt;In my hopelessness I pretend to be amused&lt;br /&gt;I’m like an onion; always the supporting actor&lt;br /&gt;How I wish to have with you, a second of our own story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I don't feel like updating in depth yet, so I shall just skim through the memorable events that have passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Stephen's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is as much his birthday as it is a rebirth of my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a person hits rock bottom, the only way to go is up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which makes me wonder; what then really is the bottom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Taken from an email which Hotmail considers as spam.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a cold December night in West Orange, New Jersey. Thomas Edison's factory was humming with activity. Work was proceeding on a variety of fronts as the great inventor was trying to turn more of his dreams into practical realities. Edison 's plant, made of concrete and steel, was deemed "fireproof". As you may have already guessed, it wasn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that frigid night in 1914, the sky was lit up by a sensational blaze that had burst through the plant roof. Edison 's 24-year-old son, Charles, made a frenzied search for his famous inventor-father. When he finally found him, he was watching the fire. His white hair was blowing in the wind. His face was illuminated by the leaping flames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My heart ached for him," said Charles. "Here he was, 67 years old, and everything he had worked for was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, 'Charles! Where's your mother?' When I told him I didn't know, he said, 'Find her! Bring her here! She'll never see anything like this as long as she lives.' "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next morning, Mr. Edison looked at the ruins of his factory and said this of his loss: "There's value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Thank God, we can start anew."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a wonderful perspective on things that seem at first to be so disastrous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A business failure, divorce, personal dream gone sour . . . whether these things destroy an individual depends largely on the attitude he or she takes toward them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sort out why it happened, and learn something from the blunders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of different approaches that can be taken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Start over.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spam? I don't think so.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sunday's family dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having come back from an overnight stayover at Jason's house, I was in no condition to go out, but I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this one very grainy photo that I took at the floating docks of the yacht club where we had our meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In it there is this one platform (presumably across the Straits) that is brightly lit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much in the bustle of today but a beacon of hope in the darkness of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'd like to take another walk in the darkness, if I could see that one light once again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Windez, sometimes I feel I don't even know you at all.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7359669887280432506?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7359669887280432506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7359669887280432506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7359669887280432506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7359669887280432506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/91-as-requested-by-kira.html' title='#91 As Requested By Kira'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1078732348000980284</id><published>2008-06-19T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T01:38:23.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#90 洋葱, I Don't Smell Like One But...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;洋葱 周恒毅&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;如果你眼神能够为我片刻的降临&lt;br /&gt;如果你能听到心碎的声音&lt;br /&gt;沉默的守护着你沉默的等奇迹&lt;br /&gt;沉默的让自己像是空气&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;大家都吃着聊着笑着今晚多开心&lt;br /&gt;最角落里的我笑得多合群&lt;br /&gt;盘底的洋葱像我永远是调味品&lt;br /&gt;偷偷的看着你 偷偷的隐藏着自己&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;如果你愿意一层一层一层的剥开我的心&lt;br /&gt;你会发现 你会讶异&lt;br /&gt;你是我 最压抑 最深处的秘密&lt;br /&gt;如果你愿意一层一层一层的剥开我的心&lt;br /&gt;你会鼻酸 你会流泪&lt;br /&gt;只要你能听到我 看到我的全心全意&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;听你说你和你的他们暧昧的空气&lt;br /&gt;我和我的绝望 装得很风趣&lt;br /&gt;我就像一颗洋葱 永远是配角戏&lt;br /&gt;多希望能与你有一秒专属的剧情&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;如果你愿意一层一层一层的剥开我的心&lt;br /&gt;你会发现 你会讶异&lt;br /&gt;你是我 最压抑 最深处的秘密&lt;br /&gt;如果你愿意一层一层一层的剥开我的心&lt;br /&gt;你会鼻酸 你会流泪&lt;br /&gt;只要你能听到我看到我的全心全意&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's a nice song =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;In my dreams I see a different me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;One stronger, one more hopeful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;That's what everyone else sees, right?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1078732348000980284?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1078732348000980284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1078732348000980284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1078732348000980284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1078732348000980284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/90-i-dont-smell-like-one-but.html' title='#90 洋葱, I Don&apos;t Smell Like One But...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4117797989114802890</id><published>2008-06-15T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T11:48:39.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#89 Then And Now</title><content type='html'>Inside Out - Von Ray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe all the things I hear.&lt;br /&gt;All these things I hold so dear,&lt;br /&gt;I won't take for granted.&lt;br /&gt;I'd always thought that you'd be there.&lt;br /&gt;Now it somehow seems unfair.&lt;br /&gt;You're asking me to take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see the danger creeping up beside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're turning me inside out,&lt;br /&gt;You're breaking all these promises we made.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will make it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our picture taken yesterday,&lt;br /&gt;Slowly starts to fade away,&lt;br /&gt;There's got to be an answer.&lt;br /&gt;There's no use being afraid to see,&lt;br /&gt;What my life was meant to be,&lt;br /&gt;And take me so much higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see the danger its creeping up behind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're turning me inside out,&lt;br /&gt;You're breaking all these promises we made.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will make it right.&lt;br /&gt;'Cause, you're turning me inside out.&lt;br /&gt;It's taking all my strength and will to stay.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will make it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do you feel the danger its creeping up beside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're turning me inside out,&lt;br /&gt;You're breaking all these promises&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're breaking all these promises&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're turning me inside out,&lt;br /&gt;You're breaking all these promises we made.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will make it right.&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're turning me inside out.&lt;br /&gt;It's taking all my strength and will to stay.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will make it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I originally planned to blog all about the thoughts that came to my mind since Saturday;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts about being merely an existence and not a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the gist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since sometime last year, Saturday became the day when my guilt (and regret) catches up with me and pummels my conscience to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was nothing different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess I won't bother about the details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly can't be bothered about much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making people unhappy makes me feel unhappy, but it seems to have become that which I am proficient at lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only this time, sorry isn't going to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry mom, I've been a bad boy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Help.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life. Or lack of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything - Lifehouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find me here and speak to me.&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel You I need to hear You.&lt;br /&gt;You are the Light that's leading me.&lt;br /&gt;To the place where I find peace,&lt;br /&gt;Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the strength that keeps me walking.&lt;br /&gt;You are the hope that keeps me trusting.&lt;br /&gt;You are the Light to my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You are my purpose, You're everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with You and not be moved by You?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You calm the storms and You give me rest.&lt;br /&gt;You hold me in Your hands, You won't let me fall.&lt;br /&gt;You steal my heart and You take my breath away.&lt;br /&gt;Would you take me in, take me deeper now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with You and not be moved by You?&lt;br /&gt;Would You tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with You and not be moved by You?&lt;br /&gt;Would You tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you're all I want, You're all I need,&lt;br /&gt;You're everything, everything.&lt;br /&gt;You're all I want, You're all I need,&lt;br /&gt;You're everything, everything.&lt;br /&gt;You're all I want. You're all I need,&lt;br /&gt;.You're everything, everything.&lt;br /&gt;You're all I want, You're all I need,&lt;br /&gt;you're everything, everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better,&lt;br /&gt;Any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4117797989114802890?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4117797989114802890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4117797989114802890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4117797989114802890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4117797989114802890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/89-then-and-now.html' title='#89 Then And Now'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3356829449716465868</id><published>2008-06-13T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T12:17:09.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#88 A Little Bit Of The Past</title><content type='html'>Loneliness Knows Me By Name - Westlife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness is always looking for a friend&lt;br /&gt;It found me once and it has been around since then&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness is never waiting by the door&lt;br /&gt;It sweeps right through and it will never be ignored&lt;br /&gt;Why, why was I chosen?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I left without?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The love of my life, the love that I need&lt;br /&gt;The love that they say is in life for free&lt;br /&gt;The love of my dreams, the love that I want&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness knows me by name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness knows everything I keep inside&lt;br /&gt;My endless thoughts in the silence of the night&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness is the one who made me see&lt;br /&gt;Ain't nobody else who can make a change but me&lt;br /&gt;Why, why was I chosen?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I left without?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The love of my life, the love that I need&lt;br /&gt;The love that they say is in life for free&lt;br /&gt;The love of my dreams, the love that I want&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness knows me by name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is more and that would be the vacant space&lt;br /&gt;The cried out tears and a never ending maze&lt;br /&gt;I have found what only loneliness provides&lt;br /&gt;A strength within knowing I will find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty interesting how every now and then a familiar song pops up in my mind and I am drawn back to it once again. It's been a long time since I last heard Westlife's Coast to Coast album. Maybe I should, when the sun is out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels something within the four walls of my house is falling apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where once I stood to support, now I am but another piece of debris laid waste in ground zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this juncture I'm wondering; Is my disappearing act really as good for everyone as I once thought?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3356829449716465868?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3356829449716465868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3356829449716465868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3356829449716465868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3356829449716465868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/88-little-bit-of-past.html' title='#88 A Little Bit Of The Past'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1471494555688156901</id><published>2008-06-12T11:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T11:13:00.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#87 Because Farplane Cannot Be Reached By Mere Mortals...</title><content type='html'>Pop. Ur. Nuts. says:&lt;br /&gt;can i paste ur "survey" on my blog?&lt;br /&gt;Swordsly &lt;&lt;&gt;&gt; - Kimahri @ Djose Temple says:&lt;br /&gt;o.o&lt;br /&gt;Swordsly &lt;&lt;&gt;&gt; - Kimahri @ Djose Temple says:&lt;br /&gt;sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here goes nothing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been tagged&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't ask me why I'm doing this, it seems stupid but that's me -- stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A.) People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs &amp;amp; replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;B.) Tag 8 people to do this quiz &amp;amp; those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by &amp;amp; cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;C.) Have FUN!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?&lt;br /&gt;- Like this O_O?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;- Erm... I'm greedy, so I'll have a dream that will make all of my endless dreams come true? =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#3. What will your dream wedding be like?&lt;br /&gt;- That's for me (and my future darling) to know, and for you to attend and find out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#4. Are you confused as to what lies ahead of you?&lt;br /&gt;- No, I'm facing the computer -- you can't be confused about that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#5. Do you like cheese ?&lt;br /&gt;- Do I look like a mouse to you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?&lt;br /&gt;- It would be better if you can love someone, and be loved back by the same one. =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?&lt;br /&gt;- Let's see... does 1234567890 years sounds good to you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?&lt;br /&gt;- Get a club, break them up. Get a tape, join us up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes. Everything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#10. What is the most heart breaking moment for you so far?&lt;br /&gt;- None. Heart breaking means I'm dead right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#11. How do you see yourself in ten years time?&lt;br /&gt;- 30 years old, probably with some beard and a thicker glasses with some nerdy hairstyle. Or dead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#12. Who are currently the most important people to you?&lt;br /&gt;- Me, myself, and I (+1 which shouldn't be mentioned at this stage).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?&lt;br /&gt;- A baboon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#14. Would you rather be single &amp;amp; rich or married but poor?&lt;br /&gt;- I would choose rich &amp;amp; married. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#15. What is the first thing you do every morning?&lt;br /&gt;- Get up and yawn?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#16. Would you give all in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;- I can't give all in a relationship frankly speaking; there's never "all".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#17. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?&lt;br /&gt;- Flip a coin. Heads, I take A. Tails, I take B. Slap in the middle, I take both to the chute.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;#18. What type of friends do you like?&lt;br /&gt;- I don't like friends, I like girlfriends though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People who tag me;Kiwi&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People whom I tagged;None. &lt;/p&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~_~"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how does Kiwi = Baboon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1471494555688156901?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1471494555688156901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1471494555688156901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1471494555688156901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1471494555688156901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/87-because-farplane-cannot-be-reached.html' title='#87 Because Farplane Cannot Be Reached By Mere Mortals...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-2760598534473841825</id><published>2008-06-12T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T10:40:44.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#86 To TFC (The Fallen Clowns)</title><content type='html'>In case ur reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just a problem with x-trap. That and a little bit of DotA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back. Soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Still up for our weekly outings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你那麼愛他 李圣杰&amp;amp;林隆&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;直到愛消失你才懂得&lt;br /&gt;去珍惜身邊每個&lt;br /&gt;美好風景&lt;br /&gt;只是他早已離去&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;直到你想通他早已經&lt;br /&gt;不再對你留戀&lt;br /&gt;最後的你&lt;br /&gt;開始了一段掙扎&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你那麼愛他&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不把他留下&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不說心裡話&lt;br /&gt;你深愛他&lt;br /&gt;這是每個人都知道啊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你那麼愛他&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不把他留下&lt;br /&gt;是不是你有深愛的兩個他&lt;br /&gt;所以你不想再讓自己無法自拔&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;直到愛消失你才懂得&lt;br /&gt;去珍惜身邊每個&lt;br /&gt;美好風景&lt;br /&gt;只是他早已離去&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;直到你想通他早已經&lt;br /&gt;不再對你留戀&lt;br /&gt;最後的你&lt;br /&gt;開始了一段掙扎&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你那麼愛他&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不把他留下&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不說心裡話&lt;br /&gt;你深愛他&lt;br /&gt;這是每個人都知道啊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你那麼愛他&lt;br /&gt;為什麼不把他留下&lt;br /&gt;是不是你有深愛的兩個他&lt;br /&gt;所以你不想再讓自己&lt;br /&gt;無法自拔&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-2760598534473841825?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/2760598534473841825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=2760598534473841825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2760598534473841825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/2760598534473841825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/86-to-tfc-fallen-clowns.html' title='#86 To TFC (The Fallen Clowns)'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-7166640947935779796</id><published>2008-06-11T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T09:33:40.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#85 It's Said Life Has It's Ups &amp; Downs</title><content type='html'>If so, I guess this must be my week of downs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've an ass the past few days. (To my family members; Courtesy of all the bottled up frustration within)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Be right back. Busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A weird thought comes to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm searching for a way of life. A path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The path of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Oriental chinese music plays in the background*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The slacker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The instruments break*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what I mean either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's more to it than what I know right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-7166640947935779796?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/7166640947935779796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=7166640947935779796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7166640947935779796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/7166640947935779796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/85-its-said-life-has-its-ups-downs.html' title='#85 It&apos;s Said Life Has It&apos;s Ups &amp; Downs'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8133443315114773350</id><published>2008-06-09T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T11:13:40.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#85 Imagine, Just Imagine...</title><content type='html'>All the possible reasons why you could regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then realise you've done nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to fix things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to change the direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just that aching feeling in your heart that whispered,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, you could have been honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Two years, two months fly by.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8133443315114773350?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8133443315114773350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8133443315114773350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8133443315114773350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8133443315114773350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/85-imagine-just-imagine.html' title='#85 Imagine, Just Imagine...'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-3177492981384533099</id><published>2008-06-08T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T12:07:56.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#84 I Had The Weirdest Dream Yesterday</title><content type='html'>Well actually not. It's hard to describe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puppy describes it as such, " Got fayt no shyt".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有缘无分.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay since I'm in a game with Puppy, I shall stop blogging... for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*edit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My younger brother gets to be Evil three times in a row, while the poor farmers (us) get beaten up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My DDscore (Dark Deeds score) is a paltry 9 to his whooping 22 over the course of 4 games. (minus one for me because I copied the wrong code once)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings us back to that weird weird dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gave me this sour feeling after I got up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can feel it hours later. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, "gort fayt no shyt, gort fayt no shyt".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-3177492981384533099?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/3177492981384533099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=3177492981384533099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3177492981384533099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/3177492981384533099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/84-i-had-weirdest-dream-yesterday.html' title='#84 I Had The Weirdest Dream Yesterday'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-4559203781764485296</id><published>2008-06-04T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T11:30:33.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#83 为你写诗</title><content type='html'>吴克群-为你写诗&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;作词:吴克群作曲:吴克群&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;爱情是一种怪事&lt;br /&gt;我开始全身不受控制&lt;br /&gt;爱情是一种本事&lt;br /&gt;我开始连自己都不是&lt;br /&gt;为你我做了太多的傻事&lt;br /&gt;第一件就是为你写诗&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你我学会弹琴写词&lt;br /&gt;为你失去理智&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你弹奏所有情歌的句子&lt;br /&gt;我忘了说最美的是你的名字&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;爱情是一种怪事&lt;br /&gt;你的笑容是唯一宗旨&lt;br /&gt;爱情是一种本事&lt;br /&gt;我在你心里什么位置&lt;br /&gt;为你我做了太多的傻事&lt;br /&gt;第一件就是为你写诗&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你我学会弹琴写词&lt;br /&gt;为你失去理智&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你弹奏所有情歌的句子&lt;br /&gt;我忘了说最美的是你的名字&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你我学会弹琴写词&lt;br /&gt;为你失去理智&lt;br /&gt;为你写诗为你静止&lt;br /&gt;为你做不可能的事&lt;br /&gt;为你弹奏所有情歌的句子&lt;br /&gt;我忘了说最美的是你的名字&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我什么都能忘记&lt;br /&gt;但唯一不忘的是你的名字&lt;br /&gt;我什么都能忘记&lt;br /&gt;但唯一不忘的是你的样子&lt;br /&gt;我什么都能忘记&lt;br /&gt;但唯一不忘的是你的名字&lt;br /&gt;我什么都能忘记&lt;br /&gt;但唯一不忘的是你的样子&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heeding the death throes of my beloved laptop, I brought it to Acer yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new hard drive F.O.C (under warranty) but lost every byte of data in my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ensued was a day's worth of updates, patches to get my machine back into shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long, night arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day lost to the sands of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-4559203781764485296?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/4559203781764485296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=4559203781764485296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4559203781764485296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/4559203781764485296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/83.html' title='#83 为你写诗'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1326016823934835155</id><published>2008-06-02T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T10:51:21.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#82 I've Been Tagged</title><content type='html'>A.) People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs &amp;amp; replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B.) Tag 8 people to do this quiz &amp;amp; those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by &amp;amp; cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C.) Have FUN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?&lt;br /&gt;- Honestly don't know, but I hope I can forgive. No one's perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;- To see everyone find their path in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3. What will your dream wedding be like?&lt;br /&gt;- It will remain in my dreams for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4. Are you confused as to what lies ahead of you?&lt;br /&gt;- Yes and no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5. Do you like cheese ?&lt;br /&gt;- I like to throw cheese away. Does that count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?&lt;br /&gt;- To love others. That faculty of being able to love is a blessing by itself. Defines humanity in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?&lt;br /&gt;- I can't really choose not to wait can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?&lt;br /&gt;- Too bad? But I can't bring myself to getting into a relationship with another person either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?&lt;br /&gt;- A lot. The heat, my projects, myself. Mostly myself. It's said that your worst enemy is your. Now I understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10. What is the most heart breaking moment for you so far?&lt;br /&gt;- The time when I thought I had it all and then lost it all. And then I realised you never really have anything, just hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#11. How do you see yourself in ten years time?&lt;br /&gt;- Alive. Living I'm not so sure, because the world seems to like to mechanize everything, from labour to technology. Unfortunately, I seem to be going down that very path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#12. Who are currently the most important people to you?&lt;br /&gt;- People who love me for who I am and not who I seem to be. That has always been the sticking point for me, because I seem to give too many the impression that I am who I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?&lt;br /&gt;- Caring, dependable, a bit naive probably. But that's the stuff of innocence. And if I might add advice, never grow up, it ain't pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#14. Would you rather be single &amp;amp; rich or married but poor?&lt;br /&gt;- I'd rather be contented single or married, rich or poor doesn't matter much. It's just a state of living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#15. What is the first thing you do every morning?&lt;br /&gt;- Go back to bed. As a result, I have extended my sleeping hours far beyond noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#16. Would you give all in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;- I don't think anyone does. But I know I would give to my best capacity. A bridge is formed from two ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#17. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?&lt;br /&gt;- None. It isn't fair to any. I rather pine than cause two (or more) people's lives to go topsy turvy because of a stipud (intentional mispelling) mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#18. What type of friends do you like?&lt;br /&gt;- If they are friends, there is no like or don't like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who tag me;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woof woof, Cherine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People whom I tagged;&lt;br /&gt;(This part is hard, because I'm trying to find people who will continue the chain)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerrome, Heng Yu, Emily, Chun Kwee, Sharon, Felicia, Yeow Chong, Zhi Wei, Xueping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1326016823934835155?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1326016823934835155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1326016823934835155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1326016823934835155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1326016823934835155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/06/82-ive-been-tagged.html' title='#82 I&apos;ve Been Tagged'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-8984747218778786762</id><published>2008-05-24T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T12:49:04.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#81 I Should Have An Update For Saturday</title><content type='html'>And I guess I will do so right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of all that happened and all that went through my mind. I'm deadbeat right now, though the day was fun and quite an experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether for good or for bad we'll leave it all up to the future, when I look back on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started off late but the k box was awesome, and it was good to meet more of the TFC (TheFallenClowns). Though I haven't been actively present in-game, its heartening to know the guild is growing not just statistically, but in that we are getting to know each other beyond just gaming guildmates (hopefully this will reduce the amount of people who come in to make use of the guild and then leave, as well as bring about more friendships being built).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was way too high (energy levels-wise?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meet up with Heng Yu, Cherine, Jason &amp;amp; Dao was brief but beneficial for catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice long walk back to Somerset to take the NightRider service after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reaching Somerset station I realised I couldn't cut through the usual route past the station to get to the road that led home-bound. So I took a long roundabout along Cathay Cineleisure and tried my luck at the bus-stop in front of the Kopitiam the TFCs had dinner at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No go. So I walked the rest of the roundabout back to my usual bus-stop and waited an antagonising 1/2 hour for the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later I reach home. Safe. Sound. Affected?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On hindsight, I sure wasn't ready to face my demons from before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now, the bed's beckoning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-8984747218778786762?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/8984747218778786762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=8984747218778786762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8984747218778786762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/8984747218778786762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/05/81-i-should-have-update-for-saturday.html' title='#81 I Should Have An Update For Saturday'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-1067636168024125358</id><published>2008-05-23T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T04:51:42.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#80 Looking Ahead</title><content type='html'>Upwards and forwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I want to see the stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The possibilities. The hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till now I still dream back of the days in Year 1 and Year 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unity and willingness to go the extra mile. The brotherly bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares if we sang off-tune or had pea-sized biceps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's then, and now's now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To remark that things have changed would be an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I want to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to achieve big, flashy things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to be the next big thing in the corporate world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or own the world's first space mansion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or discover an extra-terrestrial lifeform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need all those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to feel like I belong somewhere and help others find where they truly belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to all who've been in my life at some point in time, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road ahead's just going to get even more exciting. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-1067636168024125358?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/1067636168024125358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=1067636168024125358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1067636168024125358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/1067636168024125358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/05/80-looking-ahead.html' title='#80 Looking Ahead'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-9206086055399517578</id><published>2008-05-21T12:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T04:38:11.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#79 Today I Want To Celebrate Friends</title><content type='html'>For those who were wondering, I've got 1 word for you: Sorry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've seemed to have been MIA from social outings, so I'll just do a little update on my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past few weeks, I've been Cabal-ing (Cabal --&gt;online game) pretty fervently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say I haven't neglected areas of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, it got myself thinking and wondering if it was all worth it to whittle my life away on a screen of pixels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is no, in many ways, such as my responsibility towards fulfilling my duties as a student, and for my own personal sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, I've met amazing people (online and in real life) through the course of the game, people like (written as in-game IDs to protect their identities) :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;taro (my *heart*-u-long-long buddy for 5 years now; Now don't get me wrong, we're not gays, just laming around :D)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;drumstick/drumlet (two-in-one same person and auntie of the group. did I mention she works at B-... oh never mind!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;arch (my online bro and RP grad-senior, who gives me moral support!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to0n (taro says he looks like Tank but who cares? to all girls out there: he's hawt, get him while stock(s) last!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;winds (a.k.a. CYC my secondary school buddy, who's now working full-time without me *sad face*)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;and so many others in TheFallenClowns (guild) who have yet to meet up in real life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And you know something cool? Dao's (possibly) joining the fold as Ryudo =P&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*His first words: Watashiwa Ryudo...* (can't remember the full sentence 'cos I'm no Japanese linguist/enthusiast)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sure is getting crowded in here!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But it brings me back to the point I'm trying to make; It isn't just about the game.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's about the people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Addressed to the people in the list who definitely cannot see me and who at this point in time do not have my blog address*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yeah, it's about all of you! And (in a moment of sheer narcissism) be glad that Poppy (me; PopUrNutz/PopHisNutz/PopMoreNutz) is your friend 'cos I'm patient and understanding! =D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But back to reality. I know I can't live on Cabal for the rest of my life, that's why in the next few days I'm devoting my time and energy to finish my projects at hand.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meaning no Cabal-ing till I finish my work. =/&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For the rest of you out there though, I'm still available to go out, just be friendly to my pocket will ya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm still *technically* schooling. =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Edit* P.S. To Heng Yu, j i a y o u! I know it's hard inside, but that training will toughen you up in the long run! Just think about the toned biceps... LOL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-9206086055399517578?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/9206086055399517578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=9206086055399517578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/9206086055399517578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/9206086055399517578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/05/79-today-i-want-to-celebrate-friends.html' title='#79 Today I Want To Celebrate Friends'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4385545197845578463.post-714636928840271509</id><published>2008-05-06T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T00:28:20.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#78 Living Anaestesia</title><content type='html'>Or a block on my consciousness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The less I hear, the less I'll misunderstand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gossip brings to mind man's failings and inability face the reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't hurt each other with careless remarks that are bound to be further distorted from their original meanings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of us are already casualties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop judging, start implementing what you say you've learnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be the hypocrite people believe you are;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day you try to disprove it, you strengthen that notion instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4385545197845578463-714636928840271509?l=the-zigzag.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/feeds/714636928840271509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4385545197845578463&amp;postID=714636928840271509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/714636928840271509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4385545197845578463/posts/default/714636928840271509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-zigzag.blogspot.com/2008/05/78-living-anaestesia.html' title='#78 Living Anaestesia'/><author><name>Windez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469556357306273872</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
