<?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-2209443751006773043</id><updated>2012-02-06T18:02:40.794+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Think You Know Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2509063356978940971</id><published>2012-02-06T18:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T18:02:40.807+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tell me I'm the dumbest person to be sitting down here doing up the Valentine's Day gift for you but yet being punished by your harsh words. Tears streaming down my face.... why are you so hard to me? Can't you see even when I'm mad, I will always be soft to you, quickly and eventually? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No, you can't see that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2509063356978940971?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2509063356978940971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2012/02/tell-me-im-dumbest-person-to-be-sitting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2509063356978940971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2509063356978940971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2012/02/tell-me-im-dumbest-person-to-be-sitting.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-9220220037782333239</id><published>2012-01-03T20:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T07:15:01.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've been thinking a lot lately... like a lot. Some days, I feel sad. Some days, secretly glad. I'm sad when she doesn't love me the way I wish she would (to take me more seriously at times). Sad because she always make fun of me, it's not funny and yet I have to let it be because I think this is her way of loving me. Sad because my relationship with my mum has been very strained (for the past few years) and recently. Sad because when people (friends) said nasty things to me. Sad because of the dreams I have at night. Secretly glad because when put in an unfavourable position, I will think of nice things people/family/she would do for me. Glad when she would cut my food into pieces for me, always giving me some of her share, helping me to wear my sweater etc. Glad for moments when she is more serious and tells me I belong to her or when she loves me and never want to lose me. I sound totally like a hopeless girl hoping to live in a fantasy right now. I dunno if this is a form of consolation for me. And I know this sounds contradictory with what I said earlier on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;R has been contacting me recently, especially since she is or has head back to Singapore. I wouldn't mind meeting her - as a friend- though we have some sort of complication before. I am just afraid somehow feelings might be rekindled, her towards me. And I who don't know how to reject people well enough, might just mess things up. Anyway, I think I will be meeting her up.... don't like to burn bridges, just to maintain the friendship.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Also wondering if I should tell her... afraid and knowing that she ight be crazy and push me to others (yet again...) Being pushed to others, by her, whether jokingly or not, always makes me sad. But does she know how I feel or would she treat it like a joke for her or for us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A call from her, just in time to soothe me a little. Sometimes, no&lt;/span&gt;, most times, she is easily jealous and gets overly possessive. I guess I like it when she is possessive (and jealous) yet trust me with whoever I am with at that moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This post feels messy because I am feeling and thinking strangely and a lot, lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have been told that I've lost some weight lately. Secretly, I am glad. Difference? Dun feel or see any changes though. Positive reinforcement could sometimes lead to drastic measures. If you get what I mean....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-9220220037782333239?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/9220220037782333239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-been-thinking-lot-lately.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/9220220037782333239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/9220220037782333239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-been-thinking-lot-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-947685444620107684</id><published>2011-11-22T17:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T17:46:28.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I never knew I could feel so much pain, and yet be so in love with the person causing it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-947685444620107684?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/947685444620107684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-never-knew-i-could-feel-so-much-pain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/947685444620107684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/947685444620107684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-never-knew-i-could-feel-so-much-pain.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5128954758822316309</id><published>2011-11-22T05:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T05:46:50.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Things got a little bit better at work. Thank god for the holidays. I just need to stay away from work and the principal for awhile in order for me to re charge and be ok with everything again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I am hurt that you gave up so easily on me/us. I know I might sound like I wanted this to end for the better of us but you didn't try to fight for us much. Words is cheap. Fuck all the things that you said to me. I tried to make you see how much I am willing to do for you, at your beck and call...but would you do the same for me? Looks like not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But you know what, I miss you terribly. I dun have the strength to stay away from you anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I wish I am a stronger person and would get over things quickly... But I just feel so much pain to know that we won't be seeing each another anymore. So much pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5128954758822316309?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5128954758822316309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/things-got-little-bit-better-at-work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5128954758822316309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5128954758822316309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/things-got-little-bit-better-at-work.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2282432081575316388</id><published>2011-11-14T10:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T10:33:33.775+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Motivation, zero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I have no more heart for my current job and have been very much delayed of the new job I have been waiting for. Last week, I was told I was given 80% chance for the new job and now, it feels like I am left with 20% chance. Why make promises when you can't fulfill them? Thursday till now...is this a sign of rejection? So why can't I get rejected straight? I will know perhaps, for the final time later. I cross my fingers, please, to whoever up there, please let me leave my current place and join the new school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2282432081575316388?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2282432081575316388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/motivation-zero.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2282432081575316388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2282432081575316388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/motivation-zero.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3442986542078438178</id><published>2011-11-13T17:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T17:10:08.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sunday afternoon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thoughts running all over my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Job (I wish I could take this fucking issue out of my head).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Another girl drama or soon to be drama. Must stop leading others on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Desire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Jealousy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Envy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Nothing is permanent. Especially people. Don't have your hopes high, friends become strangers, lovers become friends. And people leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I need to get back to training. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3442986542078438178?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3442986542078438178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/sunday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3442986542078438178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3442986542078438178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/11/sunday.html' title='Sunday.'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3666609978940359759</id><published>2011-10-26T07:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T07:58:29.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I can't imagine there is such an evil parent and child alive out to get me the whole of this year. Once again, threatening to report me and a fellow teacher to MOE, even asking for our full names. Seriously, why are you so wicked? Why try to sow discord between other children/parents and me? Why try to brainwash others? Best part, there is no protection against us. Useless principal, I finally see.... In pre-schools cases, the principal usually shield the teachers and block away the parents but this principal of ours....is scared shitless. No form of comfort, no form of defence. Perhaps, it's time I leave this school. Hopefully, I would jump over to a new school after the interview on Thursday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Perhaps, I need to force myself to get out of my comfort zone and face new challenges in a different place. Easier said than done, but I guess I got to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ever felt too alone? After this shit incident, I was lying on my bed from the whole afternoon to the next morning with a terrible migraine and when darkness falls, I felt so alone and scared suddenly. The silence and the darkness is eating me up. For once, I am afraid of the dark, wishing there was someone beside me. Will you walk together with me in times of hardship and obstacles? I guess this would be a good test to see how we stand when I am faced with a crisis...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3666609978940359759?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3666609978940359759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-cant-imagine-there-is-such-evil.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3666609978940359759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3666609978940359759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-cant-imagine-there-is-such-evil.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-925296216952215570</id><published>2011-10-15T16:12:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T10:06:20.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This post is for you, once again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Am I shocked? No. Am I worried? Very much so. If you were to ask me why, I can only say I just do not have a good feeling about this. Not that I do not trust men, I just do not trust married men. Look at this kind of situation, how many of them usually have a happy ending? One of them is surely to get hurt, especially if emotions are involved. Based on personal experience with taken and married men (though not intimately), an outsider will always be an outsider. He will not sacrifice the stability, security and love he has for an outsider, unless the outsider is able to give him more and better benefits but this will be a never ending road because there are always people who are better and thus, the needs is insatiable. Even if all the parties are open, jealousy, envy, love, like, lust, wanting will surely to occur and even more so on a deeper level as time goes by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If one is single and just dating/seeing new people, fine by me. But when there is a status or something black and white to secure something so tightly, I just hope you would be careful. Yes, you might say never try, never know but at the same time, I do not want you to regret it and even if you might say you brought this upon yourself, the damage has been already done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just ask yourself this, what is it do you exactly want ultimately, for now? To be single, have fun and happy? No problem with that at all, just know what you're playing with and protect yourself. If you want to get settled down and still have fun, please have fun with a single. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Go with the flow, yes, but always think about what could have happen. Do you see any long term benefits or will there be a progression at the end of the road? (With regards to his case) I know for now I can't make you change your mind about the upcoming trip or about the r/s you have with him currently. I am just telling you what I feel of this matter. As much as I don't condone this "r/s", I will still be there for you and be at your back. Perhaps you might say I worry a little too much but this is me. Don't wish to see someone who holds a special place in my heart getting hurt (though not now) I guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: Nobody reads this blog btw. It's that private, it's just my little own diary which is dying soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Till we meet again, stay happy. Miss ya :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-925296216952215570?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/925296216952215570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-post-is-for-you-once-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/925296216952215570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/925296216952215570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-post-is-for-you-once-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-6934670462296644694</id><published>2011-09-29T18:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T20:36:39.494+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So once again, I'm sitting down bleeding. And I am all over the place. I looked back at my life. Childhood till adulthood. When was I truly happy and satisfied? Family, the core, is dysfunctional. Love life hasn't always be good, nothing quality about it. Friends, come and go, which is normal. And there is you, and there is work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno how come you can emotionally mindfuck me and make it seems like I'm at fault. I dunno how come you can treat me like shit. I dunno how come you get really pissed and upset when I was just being playful with you. I dunno how come you need to feel assured when all I am was being faithful to you. I dunno how come I can be so obliging and give in to you and not get back any of this in return when asked (which I dun even ask much) for. Is it so much to love me? I really dun think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been the whole day and I couldn't stop tearing, except when I'm asleep. And I believe nobody, and not even you can understand why this is happening. I dun wish to cry so much, I feel like a fucking baby but these tears just couldn't stop and I cannot help feeling so much pain in me. Look how much water I've wasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, complaints after complaints from parents this year about me, even threatening me to MOE. And it's not fucking funny to land in&lt;br /&gt;the situation with MOE. I feel endangered and really have to observe my every move. I decided to let go, and just eat the humble pie and go through this shit. K2 graduation concert, fuck you all. Stupid unreasonable parents who dun bloody appreciate my effort I've put in, so let chaos begin. No way I am going to handle K2 anymore. One and a half more month to go, and goodbye you fuckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With issues like this, I need time to heal again. I want to be able to walk away from you. I want to find that strength. But right now, I just feel so broken inside. And when I seek for you, you couldn't give me the support and love I was looking for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not going through depression. But I do feel depressed.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This too, shall pass?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-6934670462296644694?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/6934670462296644694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-once-again-im-sitting-down-bleeding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6934670462296644694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6934670462296644694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-once-again-im-sitting-down-bleeding.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2675610699258566196</id><published>2011-09-26T20:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T20:05:32.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My thoughts are hard to write out, or even share for that matter. In my head, it all makes sense, but in my mouth, words refuse to form.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2675610699258566196?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2675610699258566196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-thoughts-are-hard-to-write-out-or.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2675610699258566196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2675610699258566196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-thoughts-are-hard-to-write-out-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7676657614127374275</id><published>2011-09-19T20:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T20:33:50.491+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My life, why is it always be overly controlled by Mum? After a tough day of work, I came back with my good old Mum telling me how ugly I've look. Ever since I go to the gym, I look horrible. The tan on me is ugly etc. I should get a better job. What kinda disgusting relationship I might had with G? (even though I always deny about it) Mean words, pulling me down. Why? The power of words. From the people I love so dear. Always happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Where is my self-worth?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7676657614127374275?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7676657614127374275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-life-why-is-it-always-be-overly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7676657614127374275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7676657614127374275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-life-why-is-it-always-be-overly.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8188574351513785146</id><published>2011-09-15T19:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T19:46:36.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I still remember after since that night, for the weeks after, I would just sit there and look at you...not lovingly, but with hurt, doubt and questions. Do you actually love me or am I just a safe companion? Do you know that you are hurting me each time you said something unpleasant, even if it's meant as a joke? And you tell those jokes everyday. Why don't we just stop whatever we are having now? And no, I dun think I am being overly sensitive because as far as I know, couples won't do that to each other. They do not test each other limits, they do not make each other feel jittery or be on their toes on the time...I may not have much experience in relationships but that does not mean I do not know anything about love. These are what I wanted to ask, wanted to say but I didn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;M said something that quite made a lot of sense just a few days back. It is one thing to hurt someone unintentionally and another on purpose. She knows you do not like to hear those words yet she just went on and on. And she knows she is hurting you. Come to think of it, yes, I would never hurt her with words or hurt her like how she did to me. So why...? Manipulated? Puppet? A want for attention? Or it's just her being her? Must I withdraw myself or cause unnecessary suspicion/tension in order for her to treasure me? Is there a need for such things in the first place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Things have been moderately stable for now but for how long, I do not know. All I know it is terribly upsetting to go through a major "quarrel" with her. The hurt, the pain, the tears, the lack of oxygen, the clench in the heart, the pain, the hurt.... I do not wish to go through that again. I cannot have her beside me and hurting me while I just hurt and bleed over there. It's too painful. And if this scenario do happen again, I only hope I have the courage to call it over and quits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But I know, it is going to hurt all the same, or even more. But I know by the time it's over, I might be in a happier place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I just hope we can last, as long as we could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8188574351513785146?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8188574351513785146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-still-remember-after-since-that-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8188574351513785146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8188574351513785146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-still-remember-after-since-that-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-6283676752777838384</id><published>2011-09-03T17:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T07:05:31.552+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This post is dedicated to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To whom it may concern, yes you, my dear BFF, this is for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It has been around a year plus since I've known you. Being the sentimental, sensitive and the one with extremely good memory (not sure if it's a good or bad thing), I can still recall quite clearly how we "met" each other. It all started from a simple message in Facebook with you querying about the training place and time to Sms-es. I was surprised by the amount of thought you put in your SMS-es. It wasn't just a ask-get a reply-thanks and bye- message. And from then, things weren't the same anymore. Through these SMS-es, I was eager to meet you and having a few failed meet ups (yes I was disappointed, strangely back then), you appeared one fine day out of nowhere at the training facility. Was I surprised? Yes, but I manage to pluck out my courage to come up to you and offer a friendly handshake. This was also the period I realise I wasn't "normal", this hasn't happen to me before, this was something new but I wasn't freaked out. I just come to accept it and accept how I felt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I would spare you the lengthy details but I look forward to seeing you for every training session or whenever I have the chance to even though you might not feel the same way (hurhur!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From Starbucks to Indian food to Clark Quay to Sushi Tei to J.Co to Soup Spoon to more Starbucks to SMS-es to more hangouts in future, I enjoyed every minute with you. I like how we are so comfortable (I hope) in each other's presence. I like how you are always so sensitive and thoughtful in your gestures. I like the fact how you don't judge me; and the same for me to you. I like the fact for most of the time, we share the same sentiments and the same frequency. I thank you for listening patiently to my woes and sorrows, I thank you for reminding me that I shouldn't shortchange myself and that I deserve better happiness. I thank you for sharing with me the other side of you. I thank you for trusting and confiding in me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So if you must know, my dear BFF, you are for keep, to keep. I hope you will be happy always. And if you are ever down and confused, I just want you to know I (and I believe many others too) will always be there for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Come back soon, I miss you already!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-6283676752777838384?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/6283676752777838384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-post-is-dedicated-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6283676752777838384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6283676752777838384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-post-is-dedicated-to-you.html' title='This post is dedicated to you.'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7905294145101058353</id><published>2011-09-02T09:39:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T11:12:38.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After a short hiatus, I'm finally back. The place where I can freely express myself. Reason why I've been missing is I was seeing/dating someone new. Can I say this is my first proper "relationship?" even though we are not together? I am happy because it's not like an everyday thing that you find mutual love. For the first time ever, I have someone taking so much initiative to tell me how much she likes me, miss me and love me. Someone who shows that she cares for me, someone who actually loves me back when I love someone. What do I love about her? Perhaps all these traits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But there is a downside to it too...On and off, I feel insecure and shaky, knowing you had a history of bad track record with girls, scandals and relationships. Thus I do not want to know about your past, I just get so affected... yet,  you have to hurt me so much the other night and a few other nights... At that moment, I swear there is no girl as dumb as me. Bawling, crying uncontrollably for hours while watching you talking about your past, the girls you loved, the last girl whom you loved the most, the things you did...while I just sat there, listened and wept. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate myself for being so sensitive and such a baby. Fuck it, I should probably kick myself in the ass and be stronger already. But whenever I'm with you, I just turn into this giving and obliging girl because I do not want to lose you and I know you're always the more dominant character.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I dunno what I should do. I just do not want to lose you. But yet, I have to remind myself that I only deserve the best. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Puppet. Gap. Solitude. Too much love. So much hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can still remember that night, vividly. Your back facing me, sleeping, while I just sat there and cried. I wish you would come over to me, hold me and console me even though I probably wouldn't calm down. But you didn't. What did I do to deserve this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7905294145101058353?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7905294145101058353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7905294145101058353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7905294145101058353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back.'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-9220801231541753995</id><published>2011-07-10T16:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T16:18:21.225+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insatiable</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes, it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is that what we are? Feelings, just feelings...you said. Will this last? All I know is both you and I, are insatiable for each other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-9220801231541753995?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/9220801231541753995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/insatiable.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/9220801231541753995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/9220801231541753995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/insatiable.html' title='Insatiable'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7905431343844600586</id><published>2011-07-06T19:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T19:36:06.752+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So now, I'm sitting down here, awaiting a text or a call from you for the whole day. Sadly, none. Hoping every text and call is from you... I must get prepared that maybe one day this will happen, the people-come-and-go-syndrome. If this ever happens to us, I know I will be going through a series of down and about again which I absolutely dread. I need to remind myself I'm not sort of suitors or attention and that it is you who can make break my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On the other hand, I am looking forward to something else. It's nearing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I told you I was stupid. I still am. Not your silly girl. But your stupid girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Miss your face, miss your voice, miss your hug, miss that night, just miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; I wonder if you feel the same. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7905431343844600586?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7905431343844600586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/waiting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7905431343844600586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7905431343844600586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8022617751906908675</id><published>2011-07-04T12:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T13:20:13.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I cannot remember being so open and comfortable. Damn, you are so fucking cute/sexy. Leaves me wanting more from you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hot damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8022617751906908675?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8022617751906908675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-never-remember-being-so-open-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8022617751906908675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8022617751906908675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-never-remember-being-so-open-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5880429106757747737</id><published>2011-06-26T10:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T10:27:18.021+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You filled up my mind alot. It's not the good kind. It's the crazy kind. Reason being because I dunno if you can be trusted. For getting me hooked and then lying to me, I dun like that. I appreciate honesty alot and so far, I've been nothing but honest. You give me panic attacks, you made me uneasy when you dun reply me or couldn't meet up, it's not because I am a possessive person, it's because I know you're dating someone else behind my back. And me, being so stupid, allow myself to might have fell for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Something makes me want you alot. I know you feel the same too. But none of us is daring to make the move, none of us want to fall. We have this whole great wall of China in between us and it really is frustrating. You're shady. And I am crazy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I need to smart up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I think somewhere in the depth of my mind, I know you are not good for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Stupid crazy magnetism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5880429106757747737?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5880429106757747737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/you-filled-up-my-mind-alot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5880429106757747737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5880429106757747737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/you-filled-up-my-mind-alot.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8733710831639210719</id><published>2011-06-20T20:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T20:42:00.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I believe having someone of similar communication standards with oneself is important. It saves a lot of misunderstanding...be it friends/special someone/significant others etc.  And education and language does play a very important role in this case. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8733710831639210719?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8733710831639210719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-believe-having-someone-of-similar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8733710831639210719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8733710831639210719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-believe-having-someone-of-similar.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8958154677483810825</id><published>2011-06-19T20:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T20:30:03.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grumpy Frumpy Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Today is a grumpy frumpy Sunday for me because....my phone mother freaking drowned for me and I'm have a sleep debt and feeling ravenous but there is no good food to satisfy me. Not a good combi if you ask. It's time to get a new water bottle and perhaps a new phone? Blah. I like my phone, I hate to change phones, I hold sentimental value to it. Insular me, heh. And holidays are coming to an end soon. Heading back to to tomorrow.... I dun like. Overspent this month, shoot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm tired and stuck with work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, Happy Father's Day. I would have been a so much better daughter if you were still around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8958154677483810825?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8958154677483810825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/grumpy-frumpy-sunday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8958154677483810825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8958154677483810825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/grumpy-frumpy-sunday.html' title='Grumpy Frumpy Sunday'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5326081659954852771</id><published>2011-06-17T08:40:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T09:35:16.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skeptical</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I say it one too many times that these people from a certain platform never fails to prove me wrong. And once again, I'm right. All that bullshit about having trying to figure each other and whether this will work into something more can head themselves to the rubbish bin now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;So it seems that I look like the one that will stray but ho and behold, it seems like you already have a Plan B. With loopholes too. Clearly, if you have the intention of stepping on more than 1 boat, then please state it right at the beginning (just like I did, only that I said I will give this a try and would/promise and continue to remain single for now). I am so okay with you telling me the truth. It's only fair and it makes things so much easier to proceed on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Having to find out from "I'm not even sure if she is even your girlfriend but it looks like she is all over you, screenshots of all your statuses which seemingly meant for me but hey it's actually for her-or so she assumed", so girl-friend, you are smart to have a Plan B but I doubt you ever even seen her before. Which makes me conclude, you're probably desperate to settle down since well, it happened to oh, yours truly before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;And having to post all the lovey dovey misses and loves on your FB statuses which probably now I get it because it's so ambiguous and could be meant for anyone, only that I checked back the date you messaged me telling me I've been missed but wow, your "most probably never seen before in reality girlfriend" thought it was for her! Or hey, maybe it was meant for the 2 of us or even more. So you know what, here's to you on my FB status. (since you just love to post emo FB stautus after you're always unhappy with me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I thank God and myself for staying single and not having to force myself to commit into a relationship with someone who wants to settle down so badly when 2 people barely even knew each other well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There.... I do sound like a bitch. But only because you made me to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5326081659954852771?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5326081659954852771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/skeptical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5326081659954852771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5326081659954852771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/skeptical.html' title='Skeptical'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2687010879778129015</id><published>2011-06-15T11:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T11:41:23.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I was 3/4 asleep last night when somehow I dunno why....this thought came to me. If someone is unable to give me what I want and others could, is it only right that I should receive from them? I mean, if they are willing and enthusiastic while the other doesn't seem or appear so....why not? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2687010879778129015?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2687010879778129015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-was-34-asleep-last-night-when-somehow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2687010879778129015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2687010879778129015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-was-34-asleep-last-night-when-somehow.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-6124378276779648856</id><published>2011-06-11T20:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T20:49:03.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;I look at the harm I inflicted on  myself. I am seeing the consequences of the harm being inflicted. Do I like what I see? No. I think I love myself enough but why do I find myself constantly still stuck in this battle? Part of me embrace myself and part of me hate it so much. Tonight feels like a.... I wish I was prettier. Life would be so much easier for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fuck it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-6124378276779648856?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/6124378276779648856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-look-at-harm-i-inflicted-on-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6124378276779648856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6124378276779648856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-look-at-harm-i-inflicted-on-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-1413206265853342284</id><published>2011-06-11T20:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T20:14:38.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If the doctor is not going to give me the medicine I want, again, I swear I'm going to be nasty. Okay, maybe not.... I'm so broke this month. So sad. Doesn't help if I feel I'm looking uglier each day. Urgh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-1413206265853342284?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/1413206265853342284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/if-doctor-is-not-going-to-give-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/1413206265853342284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/1413206265853342284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/if-doctor-is-not-going-to-give-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-6687607879945295702</id><published>2011-06-09T23:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T23:38:32.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Today, I came across a new word while reading about my horoscope, no, make it 2. Romantic friendship. Nothing more, it says. I'm not an extremely avid fan or follower of horoscope but I do believe in it most of the time. Afterall, I think I could relate very well with the traitmarks of an Aquarian-minus the creative trait. Part of me kinda like how it sounds and make its sense. I think it is a safe zone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And I'm so hungry I ate a Snicker bar....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-6687607879945295702?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/6687607879945295702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/today-i-came-across-new-word-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6687607879945295702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6687607879945295702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/today-i-came-across-new-word-while.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3177261958847018744</id><published>2011-06-08T10:27:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T10:51:15.871+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So it's obvious that I'm a biased person. A very biased person, a very biased teacher. Just look at the same faces of the kids I put in Facebook. But hey, I'm only human. M was telling me about how certain people (might have) thought of a certain person's physique and immediately but not defensively, I try to justify the person's er...physique? Self-awareness is important and I know I was being biased. This reminded me when a once close friend of mine told me that I was justifying all his wrongs. Hmm... Anyway, emotions comes in stages. And I can say I am slowly getting used to it. As much as it sounds really nasty of me to say this, but a part of me feels that...I think you're not as great as what I made you out to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But, you are only human. Oh, there, a conflict of biasness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3177261958847018744?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3177261958847018744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/so-its-obvious-that-im-biased-person.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3177261958847018744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3177261958847018744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/so-its-obvious-that-im-biased-person.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2287817716977355803</id><published>2011-06-01T08:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T09:19:12.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A proper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;....but perhaps messy post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And this is the strong minded me (of current like now now, June 1st, 8:42am) talking. Managed to push the weak minded part of me away, if only for awhile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So when did I ever land myself into such a complicated situation. I didn't use to be this complicated when I was younger, the complication only increases when I hit the legal age of being an adult. Whoever says being an adult is all that great?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So last check, I have to deal with just about a few complicated issues here and there. Right now, I am just going with the flow even though I fear that one day, I know I might have to face the situation and the people and that is when things are going to get really messy. But for now, call me selfish, but my happiness means the most to me. If I am not happy or ok myself, how do I feel truly happy around you? I will not deal with people who are clingy, overly emotional and sensitive. That is for sure. I need my life, if I was a mistake (as quoted), let me be a mistake forever. I really cannot stand the fact whenever I open my Facebook page, I see people (just about 2) commenting statuses that are related to me almost ALL THE TIME. What the hell? I do understand Facebook/Twitter/or whatever social media you can get your hands on serves as a good platform to express your thoughts and feelings but ALL THE TIME about me? And mainly emo emo stuff about me? Comeon, seriously....and it's funny because these people/or person are all older than me. Can I say please grow up? Your life doesn't revolve only one person though I know how much that one person can make or kill your day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;With that said.... I need someone to kick some sense into my head for being shitty emo as well. So right now as I'm typing this, I am feeling strength. And reminding myself that this happy emo me is happily single and should probably revert back to my single ways, no, not sleeping around but doing things singles should be doing! :) Or what I was doing all this time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Easier said that done. Go with the flow then. I am whatever you made up of me, perhaps more than you could ever think of. I shall let you interpret my words, actions and thoughts yourself. Whether they mean true or not, you decide yourself. I will stop being too truthful for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Be happy, no dramas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2287817716977355803?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2287817716977355803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/proper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2287817716977355803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2287817716977355803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/06/proper.html' title='A proper'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-374727780686359332</id><published>2011-05-30T17:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T07:31:09.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The exact same person is able to create a myriad of emotions in me. Danger signs? I dreamt of someone last night...and it wasn't exactly a good dream. I woke up thinking (or missing?) another. Where will this go? I just have to remind myself again, happiness which I can control, lies in my own hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last checked, the dream I had last night came true. Freaky or what. How do deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-374727780686359332?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/374727780686359332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/exact-same-person-is-able-to-create.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/374727780686359332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/374727780686359332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/exact-same-person-is-able-to-create.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-491141116391296003</id><published>2011-05-28T09:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T09:20:34.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I will surppress and deny whatever I am feeling, as long as nobody gets hurt. Keep it simple. This will just be a passe. And I should really, probably, change the mindset that I had almost made up my mind to believe to be what is true, or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-491141116391296003?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/491141116391296003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-will-surppress-and-deny-whatever-i-am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/491141116391296003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/491141116391296003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-will-surppress-and-deny-whatever-i-am.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2895790817054684570</id><published>2011-05-24T17:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T17:11:01.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;There are times, I am sick and tired. I dun need to be there for people who are not worth my time. When they don't even spend the same amount of time and effort for me. And I dun need  to come home which demands so much of me. I am sorry I can't be the smart or rich one in the family, but there do not need to be name callings or pulling me down. Fuck. I just want freedom and go back to a peaceful place where I can call home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2895790817054684570?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2895790817054684570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/there-are-times-i-am-sick-and-tired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2895790817054684570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2895790817054684570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/there-are-times-i-am-sick-and-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5014582411522411971</id><published>2011-05-05T21:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T21:58:06.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This past week has been rather hectic. Meet up and catch up with new and old people. And finally, together with work/abit of training, it left me exhausted. I learn, I must learn to take care of myself before interacting with people. Because I know, nobody would if I dun. Of course, there are sacrifices to be made. And sometimes I question and doubt myself, are these sacrifices worth it? I still do it anyway...Let's just look at the positive side. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger with experience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I just need to be happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That's really all that matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5014582411522411971?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5014582411522411971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-past-week-has-been-rather-hectic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5014582411522411971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5014582411522411971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-past-week-has-been-rather-hectic.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-1231947993171384163</id><published>2011-04-23T22:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T17:18:36.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't help but to feel so terrible. And I thought I will not be sad. I let anger get in the way. And sadness comes seeping in after. And I can't put a finger on exactly why I'm feeling this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-1231947993171384163?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/1231947993171384163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-cant-help-but-to-feel-so-terrible.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/1231947993171384163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/1231947993171384163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-cant-help-but-to-feel-so-terrible.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5886155227372287638</id><published>2011-04-19T19:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T19:33:01.182+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Blame it on my wild heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5886155227372287638?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5886155227372287638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/blame-it-on-my-wild-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5886155227372287638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5886155227372287638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/blame-it-on-my-wild-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8872656519790906434</id><published>2011-04-13T22:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T22:58:30.682+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The hunter becomes the hunted. The victim becomes the prey. And all vice versa. Now I've a taste of both roles. And both roles, sucks. One thing for sure, I dun need drama and I dun and will not change for others. Emo people scares me now. Can't deal very well with emo and clingy people perhaps. Liking people's supposed to make them feel good about themselves and not the other way round. If that person makes you feel less worth if yourself, he/she probably is not worth it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But then again, it's not exactly the case....and I lost my train of thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8872656519790906434?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8872656519790906434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/hunter-becomes-hunted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8872656519790906434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8872656519790906434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/hunter-becomes-hunted.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2609411595294959983</id><published>2011-04-10T09:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T10:11:32.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Perhaps the like is not deep enough. I dun feel too much. I feel there are certain differences that...I dun think it can be settled. I realise that I can't change myself to others' liking. I can't be whiny, demanding or "posessive."  I can't be the little girl who always needs a shoulder to lie on. I see myself  as strong (in the inside) though I'm always a happy emo girl but truth  is, I think I really am. I get freak out when someone uses such strong words to express their passion when the feeling isn't exactly all the same. Talk about having different taste. Damn, I will just be who I am. But I will try to appreciate.  What happens when a tornado meets a volcano? I'm afraid of that scenario when it happens. I wish things would stay the way it is and not go any deeper. I dun think there is a safe escape route, too late. The escape route wouldn't be safe anymore, it will cause unnecessary consequences. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Going to meet my bestie later and I'm happy. Like 2 old ladies talking about life and laughing about silly stuff.  Simple moments. I love my bestie :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2609411595294959983?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2609411595294959983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/perhaps-like-is-not-deep-enough.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2609411595294959983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2609411595294959983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/perhaps-like-is-not-deep-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8478874777416564087</id><published>2011-04-10T09:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T09:30:57.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every sport has its beauty.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Every sport has it beauty. Why can't some people see that? Be it CrossFit, weightlifting, bodybuilding, water polo, cheerleading etc. Must one put down others to think their sport is the best? Why so critical? What silly gay jokes, what lousy form and technique remarks, what no goal comments...what...nonsense. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I choose to brush it off though I know what a person of you. It is not how you treat me, it is how you treat or say of others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8478874777416564087?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8478874777416564087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/every-sport-has-its-beauty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8478874777416564087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8478874777416564087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/04/every-sport-has-its-beauty.html' title='Every sport has its beauty.'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8656090216191846473</id><published>2011-03-15T14:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T14:23:44.832+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Show me the right platform</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Where exactly is the right platform? Urgh.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8656090216191846473?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8656090216191846473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/03/show-me-right-platform.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8656090216191846473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8656090216191846473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/03/show-me-right-platform.html' title='Show me the right platform'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3124408907192565660</id><published>2011-03-08T15:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T20:52:34.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girlfriends (just friends) will always rock my socks. Or maybe because I'm biased, sometimes. Friends, SO, weigh the priority and maintain a healthy balance. Gives me the chills to see when one loses his/her identify and is almost dependent on their SO, so much so that they "cannot live without them." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="search"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Make him/her your everything and if everything should fail, you will be left with nothing. When that happens, I wonder whether I would laugh and be evil or I would feel sorry for the party. Yeah, I'm not that nice, sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short-lived but great meet up with WQ, the first time we ever exercised together after 7 years! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I can't believe how I was so damn  unfit and lazy for almost 20 years of my life. I think I need to  exercise more and make healthier food choices :( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Random note, I (we) was openly talking about some guy we knew and that some guy appeared right infront of us, in the packed bus. I hope he didn't hear what I got to say. But I'm surprised he's still around in SG. No surprises anymore that I always get into this kind of situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1 week holidays, I can't wait. But first, sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3124408907192565660?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3124408907192565660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/03/girlfriends-just-friends-will-always.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3124408907192565660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3124408907192565660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/03/girlfriends-just-friends-will-always.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5841699405432846738</id><published>2011-02-19T23:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T23:16:22.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Would never expect this shit to happen. The support doesn't work. No matter how much people who stood by me trust me (and I thank them for it), it doesn't work. Fuck this family, you screw me. I hate all of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5841699405432846738?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5841699405432846738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/would-never-expect-this-shit-to-happen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5841699405432846738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5841699405432846738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/would-never-expect-this-shit-to-happen.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5724642817041154121</id><published>2011-02-17T18:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T18:48:26.394+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When I thought I'm starting to feel better, some thing must happen again. Where is the respect for teachers these days? After so much effort spent on these children, after so much time spent with them, you dun get a word of thanks but instead was stabbed somewhere in the back. Parents these days, need to wake up and stop spoiling their kids. Why, I should have known. All it takes is just one to destroy everything, my day, my trust, my name, my reputation. My stance is shaky. Insecure is the word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5724642817041154121?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5724642817041154121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-i-thought-im-starting-to-feel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5724642817041154121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5724642817041154121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-i-thought-im-starting-to-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3875111198279272882</id><published>2011-02-15T18:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T19:16:39.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;A little quote for Steph,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"For not needing a power suit to be in control. For not feeling guilty when you asked him/her to do the dishes. For having the courage to say 'I don't know' or give up. For knowing you don't have to look the most beautiful to be the most attractive. For women who've earned it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="visibility: visible; font-family: arial;" id="search"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; M.A.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One of the best things made known to me on Valentine's day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It was a rude awakening, I almost couldn't take it. It was heart-breaking and I could feel my eyes wet with tears, thank god for shades. Is this what they call....delusional? Or biased? Or just perhaps seeing what I want or hoping to see. Do I just give too much credit? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I value friendship more than relationship (though not always the case) but what happens when the friendship you held the longest time fails you? I just can't take it and can't let go, all at the same time. You have no idea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dear mom, stop stressing me. It's more than enough to drive me up the wall. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3875111198279272882?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3875111198279272882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/little-quote-for-steph-for-not-needing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3875111198279272882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3875111198279272882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/little-quote-for-steph-for-not-needing.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2564720652076246204</id><published>2011-02-12T23:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T23:53:30.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Too much angst, too much negative emotions in me. For everything. It has been on my mind for some time now. Deletion, pure deletion. Or just leave it and let it be. I can't decide, yet.&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/2209443751006773043-2564720652076246204?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2564720652076246204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/too-much-angst-too-much-negative.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2564720652076246204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2564720652076246204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/too-much-angst-too-much-negative.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-366142076852211205</id><published>2011-02-12T10:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T11:09:27.441+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tired and still drained by work demands. Training just made a closure to my day. To knock me out totally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rainy weathers. Once again, no. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel like going through a series of catharsis and restart. I wish those flash backs could once and for all, be gone. Because it makes me feel dumb and it's an unpleasant to have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It feels like a closure, an unspoken closure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-366142076852211205?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/366142076852211205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/tired-and-still-drained-by-work-demands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/366142076852211205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/366142076852211205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/tired-and-still-drained-by-work-demands.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5011537152791848730</id><published>2011-02-05T20:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T20:46:32.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;I know I do not exactly write about happy stuff so here goes...some random jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mummy: I had a dream about you last night. You told me you like a man who is 17 yrs your senior. He does not have a stable job and your friend told me the reason he likes you is because you have $$$ and a house. I told you to consider wisely because with no money comes unhappiness and if you marry him the next time, it might end up in a divorce. But you told me it's too late, if you do not marry him, he will do extreme things. Would you ever marry someone 17 yrs your senior and have no $$$? So, is this true? What's your version?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ..... No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mum has all sort of weird and negative strange dreams about her precious daughter all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids' parents: Miss Tham, when are you going to show us your boyfriend? *very much repeated question*&lt;br /&gt;Me: I dun have a boyfriend... *gives all sort of (real &amp;amp; valid) reasons*&lt;br /&gt;Kids' parents: You dun lie lah! *rebutts back with their reasons* WE ARE GETTING VERY WORRIED FOR YOU, YOU KNOW.&lt;br /&gt;Me:..... You help me find one okay.&lt;br /&gt;Kids' parents: OKAY. *starts recommending and sourcing out*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mummy: Do you want my Timbuk2 bag anot?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok!&lt;br /&gt;Mummy: If you want, you better start throwing all the bags in your room *starts nagging about how messy my room is which I dun deny*&lt;br /&gt;Me: ?! Is that a threat/bribe?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tita Glo: Miss Tham, why you have so many bruises on your leg and everywhere one?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Training, exercising...it's ok, I dun mind :)&lt;br /&gt;Tita Glo: Dun do already lah! Why you like to carry the heavy things then do the what, pull up? Like man leh! Dun do lah, no wonder cannot find boyfriend!&lt;br /&gt;Me: .... T_T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear mom who thinks we are disconnected for coming 4 years already (due to me being at the gym most of e time) and who never supported me in what I do requested to see me in action during training. Well, I strongly objected because I know after seeing me, she will resist it even more... Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is flying so fast, it's difficult trying to strike a balance in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5011537152791848730?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5011537152791848730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/random-jokes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5011537152791848730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5011537152791848730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/random-jokes.html' title='Random jokes'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-488714659055044411</id><published>2011-02-02T14:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T14:42:22.022+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thank you to all hose who made the effort to wish me via sms/calls/in person/facebook (Worm and close friends think it is insincere but well it's the effort I guess-gone are the days of birthday cards lol). Thanks for the gifts too. Appreciate it truly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the rain. I felt insecure around the days on my birthday. Yes, the rain surely played a part. Never like the rain, always leaves me insecure. Remembered forcing M to travel with me for gym from Clementi because it was pouring heavily. Also perhaps, I think I am faced with quarter life crisis. So old already yet achieve so little in life. No status, no money no honey no bunny nobody love me hahaha. Did I just said that? ._.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's the year of rabbits, shall await to hear what the Feng Shui Master got to say about rabbits. Hmm, steamboat tonight. Clams, food, soup. Yum. Must CrossFit it out soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-488714659055044411?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/488714659055044411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/birthday-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/488714659055044411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/488714659055044411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/02/birthday-2011.html' title='Birthday 2011'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8510052948380184871</id><published>2011-01-26T23:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T23:18:39.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I meet idiots and assholes everyday. At work, outside work and just everywhere. Perhaps my tolerance towards people is running low. Still, I am not one to push with. It is indeed, very frustrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But what is more upsetting is getting disappointed/hurt/lied to/betrayed/go against/insert negative words by people who hold a meaning to your heart. One's actions, one's words reflects one's attitude. It's pointless to put in substantial effort, to be sensitive, to mind and matter but only to realise that it is nothing but one sided. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Bottom line. Times like what I just mentioned above, I just feel like deleting them memories away. Just to be at a place I know they love me more than I love them. I should start paying attention to those people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I will not settle for anything less. I will always remember what someone said to me. "Love yourself before seeking out for love."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8510052948380184871?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8510052948380184871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-meet-idiots-and-assholes-everyday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8510052948380184871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8510052948380184871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-meet-idiots-and-assholes-everyday.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-6757716328683528479</id><published>2011-01-24T19:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T19:23:53.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I did it again. But I didn't know it would land me ill. Despite all the harm she puts you through, you hang on to her because you feel like she is all you have. Mundaneness, morbidity and negativity. Dun go all too well together. I need better luck. Or I just need to be happy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-6757716328683528479?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/6757716328683528479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-did-it-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6757716328683528479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/6757716328683528479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-did-it-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-5003454644202829950</id><published>2011-01-22T00:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T19:11:58.059+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A lie. What a big lie. To think I/we have all been fooled. And just because I/we don't say, doesn't mean we dunno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Talks with M. When you like someone (be it romantic or not), their words are God's words. Everything they say makes perfect sense and it seems all so right that we feel obliged to live those words. When negativity happens, when the exact same person go against their words, I can only say bullshit. And f you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-5003454644202829950?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/5003454644202829950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/lie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5003454644202829950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/5003454644202829950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/lie.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-444074352050274889</id><published>2011-01-20T21:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T21:38:05.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You know something isn't right when 2 people who used to have so much things to say each other and now not speaking (much). Changes? Get used to it? Perhaps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Random.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-444074352050274889?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/444074352050274889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/you-know-something-isnt-right-when-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/444074352050274889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/444074352050274889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/you-know-something-isnt-right-when-2.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-2743096385843126986</id><published>2011-01-15T16:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T16:51:39.767+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even I surprise myself with the things I do, sometimes. Was I being a bitch? Too much endorphins? Whatever did I do that for? Security? To expose? Create awareness? Perhaps all of the above. But the thing is, I dun think I regretted what I did. All I know is I dun want anymore of such encounters. It always leaves me feeling sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-2743096385843126986?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/2743096385843126986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/even-i-surprise-myself-with-things-i-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2743096385843126986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/2743096385843126986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/even-i-surprise-myself-with-things-i-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7837909497095542472</id><published>2011-01-11T20:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T21:09:10.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I think there is something missing. Yes, there is something missing. I think I know what is missing. Am I being too...fussy, "ambitious?" But I just want the best for myself. Don't we all? Well, at least it will stay the way it is, even though it could always be something more. Well, let's see how things go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hate this stupid wonky knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7837909497095542472?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7837909497095542472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-think-there-is-something-missing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7837909497095542472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7837909497095542472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-think-there-is-something-missing.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8296825739851165744</id><published>2011-01-10T22:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T16:17:14.462+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At the rate work goes, it's no wunder I'm popping panadols everyday trying to keep all the pain and discomfort away. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dun test it, you barely make it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You even barely know me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I choose to stay that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think of my old kids everyday...everytime. The love towards to a child is so much different from a romantic/friendship love. It is always giving, requires much sacrifice and never selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disgusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8296825739851165744?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8296825739851165744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/at-rate-work-goes-its-no-wunder-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8296825739851165744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8296825739851165744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/at-rate-work-goes-its-no-wunder-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-4532897390883384059</id><published>2011-01-02T19:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T19:08:40.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Replacement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Nobody should be a replacement for another. Nobody. With replacement comes comparison. With comparison comes unhappiness, jealousy and ingenuity. It's back to school and life resumes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-4532897390883384059?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/4532897390883384059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/replacement.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/4532897390883384059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/4532897390883384059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/replacement.html' title='Replacement'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7617392325340477232</id><published>2011-01-01T17:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T17:43:52.059+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Reality is beginning to sink in. That all my fears and worries is beginning to come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My pioneer kids had left me, they are gone. Out of sight, out of mind, these kids and parents are going to forget about me. I will have difficulty in loving my 18 new K1s and forging new rapport with them (and perhaps their parents). I am going to take Art/Craft this year. I might (not) be granted a pay raise and that spells more major and imperative decisions to be made- something I dun want and feel like facing. And the last one, only I know myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For a moment, I realise that it was me being dumb again. I must had forgotten what the fortune teller told my mum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7617392325340477232?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7617392325340477232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7617392325340477232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7617392325340477232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2011/01/reality.html' title='Reality'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8457215461320530683</id><published>2010-12-31T11:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T11:25:37.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last entry 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;I do wonder sometimes what do you speak of me behind my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never make someone your everything. Because when they're gone, you'll be left with nothing. More importantly, never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option. Easier said than done, though. And somehow, it always happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="visibility: visible;font-family:arial;" id="main" &gt;&lt;span style="visibility: visible;" id="search"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8457215461320530683?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8457215461320530683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/last-entry-2010.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8457215461320530683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8457215461320530683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/last-entry-2010.html' title='Last entry 2010'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-4530640693760069640</id><published>2010-12-26T20:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T20:37:55.668+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I quote a statement out of Chu Wen's blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.blogher.com/warped-beauty-standards-and-embracing-buff"&gt;Warped Beauty Standards&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; - I also blame males for making females think that skinny is pretty, and that being muscular is fugly." Good on you Chu Wen, considering you're a guy yourself. Good read below. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.blogher.com/warped-beauty-standards-and-embracing-buff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.blogher.com/warped-beauty-standards and-embracing-buff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I cannot disagree with them any further. Weight-lifting, CrossFitting will not make women big and bulky as we do not have enough testosterone to produce big and bulky muscles. It will only make you "toned", lean and muscular-fit looking, alongside with a healthy diet. Click on the link below as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.blogher.com/why-do-i-need-lift-weights-benefits-lifting-weights-women"&gt;http://www.blogher.com/why-do-i-need-lift-weights-benefits-lifting-weights-women&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Christmas this year was special. A good start with CrossFit and a good ending. It is sort of my first time "celebrating" it. Honestly, I cannot remember how I celebrated Christmas or not, in the past years. I only remember one occasion. It was many years back. I was 10 or 11. I was in a church with Mum and when 12'o clock stuck, everyone was shaking hands and hugging one another, wishing each other a Merry Christmas, me included. I was still young then, but I already felt a whole of fakeness. This year was the same, when 12am came, we were hugging, shaking hands and kissing, wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Only difference this time is, it felt real and I felt loved. I am loved. Nevermind if it's not a big affair, I dun have to be like the others. I may be a Christian by name but not my faith, and one day I may regret (saying) it. What matters to me is I felt loved and I hope I was giving back the same love I received. Feeling loved is one of the best feeling I ever experienced and I do hope it's the same for many out there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just 30 minutes ago, Mum who came back from Taiwan's "Ai" concert said to me. "All those girls are so tall, skinny and fair. All of them are so pretty and half the size of you." I dunno what to feel. All I had in my mind then was CrossFit. To train harder, either to be muscular/lean/fit, or to be skinny. Because beauty means one thing in this superficial world- acceptance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-4530640693760069640?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/4530640693760069640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-quote-statement-out-of-chu-wens-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/4530640693760069640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/4530640693760069640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-quote-statement-out-of-chu-wens-blog.html' title='Christmas 2010'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7744771446550204735</id><published>2010-12-21T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T14:38:50.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;"Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of everyday. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" class="sqq" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Such powerful words which hold so much meaning. I believe I did, and say many things I wanted to. And albeit the consequences or results might be not what I hoped for, at least I know I gave it a try. And while at times I do regret certain things I said or done, nonetheless, I will take it as a learning experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've been coming across "death" lately. In books, in shows- murder, execution, beheading, hanged, drawn and quartered (half of the time I'm covering my eyes). Violence lies everywhere. So much so I begin to dream about death. Close shave with death of myself, and almost deaths-should be, of others. Awful. While "encountering with deaths", it makes me feel uneasy, sad and almost insecure about my future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;4 days of non-stop CrossFitting, let's see if I could hit all 4. Just hate the to &amp;amp; fro travelling part. Perseverance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span jsid="text"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7744771446550204735?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7744771446550204735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7744771446550204735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7744771446550204735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8820393492713124778</id><published>2010-12-19T17:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T11:45:03.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When negativity happens, it turns so sour because it is a thin line between love and hate when you have such passion and intensity for human beings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8820393492713124778?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8820393492713124778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/when-negativity-happens-it-turns-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8820393492713124778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8820393492713124778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/when-negativity-happens-it-turns-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3919377821521696269</id><published>2010-12-17T23:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T23:48:24.618+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because its not everyday you find someone you love and trust enough with  your confessions without fear of them thinking any different of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So where were you? And where are you? Once again, screw today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I think I'm PMS-ing. I dun even know what I'm talking anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All I know is I'm unhappy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3919377821521696269?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3919377821521696269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-its-not-everyday-you-find.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3919377821521696269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3919377821521696269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-its-not-everyday-you-find.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3285075391853322992</id><published>2010-12-12T18:26:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T19:31:29.642+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Infidelity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The 2 main reasons that lead to divorce these days. (based on research) Money. Infidelity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money...will always be an issue unless both or at least one party is really from a well to do family and/or earning big bucks. It's all about controlling your expenses, the wants (fitting in) vs the needs and being honest and planning out with your partner. Who will be in charge of what, what is needed to be shared, taking turns or going dutch etc. Looking for more affordable ways to spend time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Infidelity. Different kinds. Sexual? Emotional? Harmless flirting? Infidelity in my opinion, is bound to occur at some point or another. But it is to which extend. When one is in a relationship or married, sexual infidelity is something I would (hope) not ever commit. Perhaps it's just me and my "certain traditional" beliefs. Or perhaps I might have fallen too deeply in love with the significant other to notice others around me ( to the point of being a fool).  Sexual infidelity is something I cannot tolerate in a relationship or if I'm married. You just dun love me (enough) to be able to commit acts of it I believe. Even if you are single (and I'm fond of you) and you tell me you have thoughts of others, I will appreciate your honesty but my interest somehow will just die off slowly. Hurt I might be, but this is how it will roll. However, I guess it's always easy to commit the other acts of infidelity, emotional and harmless flirting, former being worse than the latter of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm still single of course, so I guess it's ok for me to be.... nah, I'm just kidding. Really, I am. I will not go that far and even if I do, I will stop it, in time. Grounded. Thank god for I know how to keep myself grounded from time to time. And always have good people around me to keep my feet on the ground too. Complications, is something I want to stay afar from it. Far far away from it. There is a difference between cheap thrills and dangerous thrills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it innate in human to conduct acts of infidelity? Insatiable needs? Cheap thrills? Fun? Temptations? Benefits? All of these?&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/2209443751006773043-3285075391853322992?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3285075391853322992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/infidelity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3285075391853322992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3285075391853322992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/infidelity.html' title='Infidelity'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7983134450706378891</id><published>2010-12-02T23:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T23:54:04.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwCykGDEp7M"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwCykGDEp7M&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Looking at your name, looking at your IC number today. I felt... regretful, always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7983134450706378891?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7983134450706378891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7983134450706378891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7983134450706378891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/12/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8920851672597412485</id><published>2010-11-26T23:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T23:35:43.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Once you have done it before, you can do it again. Which is why I'm deleting alot of my old posts, again. No, it's not that I have the good feeling of starting afresh and anew. Quite the contrary in reality. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes my vibes scares me. I strongly believe I have very good vibes (aka sensitive) about others or even events/things/situations, most of the time at least. And I'm sure it sounds psychotic enough. But for the past year and a half and especially recently, I have been seeing and bumping into people I do not feel like seeing or not supposed to see or even supposed to see? I wonder if they know. But one thing for sure, it's awkward for me, even sad sometimes and yet it amazes me. Why, must it always happen to me? Am I force to "face the reality?" Is someone up there trying to lead me to whatever it is supposed to lead me to, or trying to tell me something?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's frustrating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Very very frustrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8920851672597412485?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8920851672597412485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/once-you-have-done-it-once-and-before.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8920851672597412485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8920851672597412485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/once-you-have-done-it-once-and-before.html' title=''/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-741310502122994183</id><published>2010-11-21T22:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T23:21:33.380+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Muscle soreness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.nwcrossfit.com/index.php/component/myblog/delayed-onset-muscle-soreness.html"&gt;http://www.nwcrossfit.com/index.php/component/myblog/delayed-onset-muscle-soreness.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Love them muscle soreness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-741310502122994183?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/741310502122994183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/741310502122994183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/741310502122994183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/httpwww.html' title='Muscle soreness'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-8077519493146184245</id><published>2010-11-15T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T19:16:03.507+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-8077519493146184245?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/8077519493146184245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/words.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8077519493146184245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/8077519493146184245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-369603064395058765</id><published>2010-11-12T20:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T23:39:36.313+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like PTC because...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I like PTC (Parent-Teacher Conference) because it allows to me see a wider view from the perspectives of parents. Even though I am young and not a parent (yet, forever, maybe), in some situations I could empathise with them, in some, I could only understand (get it and sometimes dun get it), in some I sympathise. But one thing that never fails to amaze me would be the love from these parents. Be it rich or poor families that I've seen and come across, their love for their children runs deep. Well off families would spent lots of money on/for their children. Be it presents, toys, IT stuff, gadgets, books, media etc. At the same time, despite some of them being busy and caught up with work and other commitments, they still try to spend as much time with their kids possible. Those who are not that well off would still spent alot on their children but usually have a more traditional view on parenthood. Either which, kids nowdays are lucky or "spoilt."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So anyway... here's some highlights from today's PTC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parent 1 has 3 intelligent kids. 2 I've taught before or is still teaching. She is getting skinnier each time I see her. Family (note: especially husband) is not supportive. She basically have to do everything and gets uptight about everything because her husband just sit there and doesn't do anything and wonders why she is panicky and worried. Even when he "promise" to share duties with her, it is not carried out. NATO. I dun like this. In fact, I get worried and angry for her (I told her that too). When something goes wrong, the wife takes the blame since the husband doesn't do anything at all. Even when the wife is sick, he still waits for her and perform the duties that she normally does. One really shouldn't take things got granted.I feel...mad. *Humanitarian vibes approaching*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parent 2 whom I can tell, really put in alot of effort in/for her child. The amount of toys, books, CD, extra curriculum/classes and MONEY. This child has a good childhood. Hopefully, she will look back and see the amount of effort her mother has put in for her. Whoa, mind blowing. But good thing, the child isn't all exactly spoilt and is good at her studies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parent 3 who is of minority culture. I need more parents like this, who can see the importance of early childhood education and that the base and foundation is extremely crucial. Needless to say, her son is a genius, all thanks to the efforts of the family. Home school partnership, parental involvement. I cannot emphasize enough how imperative it is. I can only spent that amount of time with them kids, ultimately, alot of teaching and learning have to be done at home, I can only try my best to improve their holistic development or enable them to be better disciplined children. So good on you Mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parent 3 who is totally the opposite of Parent 2. Parent 3 who thinks that kids should just play and should not be stressed so much. Well, very sad to say, they do not see the importance of foundation and the problems it will present later when they are at Primary school. It would be too late for regrets then. For this type of parents, I will just have to tell wot I need to - what is expected of children at this level. I will not try to convince them too hard because I know they will not change the point of view no matter wot. Rather, I will just try my best to understand and see where they are coming from (though sometimes it's really tough.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parent 4 who think their child is really good in everything. Everything that can be done at home somehow just doesn't tally what the child can't do in school. Hmm... But again, I can see that all parents want to be proud of their own child. However, they could be in denial...maybe, depends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Enough of talking today. My mouth's feeling all dry after speaking for 5 hours straight. Easy to drift off half-way too. Nonetheless, overall, I have good and supportive parents. For that, I'm happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-369603064395058765?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/369603064395058765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-like-ptc-because.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/369603064395058765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/369603064395058765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-like-ptc-because.html' title='I like PTC because...'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-7725077471317891358</id><published>2010-10-13T23:04:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T23:13:32.985+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;It's time to clean up this place a little.&lt;br /&gt;Every now and then, it's time to start anew.&lt;br /&gt;Deleting the past and the old (entries).&lt;br /&gt;It's time to get back to what I once loved. To read, to write and to be able to freely express (note: vent).&lt;br /&gt;For now, it will not be set private, for now.&lt;br /&gt;Welcome back Steph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-7725077471317891358?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/7725077471317891358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/10/hello-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7725077471317891358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/7725077471317891358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/10/hello-again.html' title='Hello again.'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2209443751006773043.post-3410047757140755569</id><published>2010-02-11T21:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T22:57:34.417+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My life as a bulimic and anorexic...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/S3QF9f9R_-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/1Gts09gKDAo/s1600-h/skinny+day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/S3QF9f9R_-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/1Gts09gKDAo/s320/skinny+day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436977204251721698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It has been 3 years to date. And it could be forever. One could never recover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think we are sick in the mind (speak for myself at least)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBvPQ9WKCe0"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBvPQ9WKCe0&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynsJp3Che0M&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynsJp3Che0M&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgeRGdU5IyE&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgeRGdU5IyE&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2209443751006773043-3410047757140755569?l=stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/feeds/3410047757140755569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-life-as-bulimic-and-once-anorexic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3410047757140755569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2209443751006773043/posts/default/3410047757140755569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephparker-paradise.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-life-as-bulimic-and-once-anorexic.html' title='My life as a bulimic and anorexic...'/><author><name>Steph Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12317665913744540894</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/Sqx2bQE-bAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/0rQJ4xp0mdU/S220/Photo+95.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjV7fWqYzmk/S3QF9f9R_-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/1Gts09gKDAo/s72-c/skinny+day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
