<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-3195626745841407057</id><updated>2024-10-05T10:09:13.075+08:00</updated><category term="emo"/><title type='text'>Everyone has a story</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default?alt=atom'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3195626745841407057.post-5214883013782776082</id><published>2014-02-28T10:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2014-02-28T10:33:26.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phat Culture</title><content type='html'>I don&#39;t like to write about things like work and other serious stuff in my blog. :)&lt;br /&gt;
Most of the time, I find myself sticking to writing about mushy things ... random things that I don&#39;t talk about much in real life.&lt;br /&gt;
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But today, I&#39;d like to blog about something very close to my heart :) and something I try very hard not to talk about too much in real life, for various personal reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
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Lately, I guess I&#39;ve been thinking about Phat Culture a lot.&lt;br /&gt;
How it has grown.&lt;br /&gt;
How it has impacted me as a person.&lt;br /&gt;
How it has changed May and I. (&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;for the better? ... or worse?&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;
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I can&#39;t help it, but a part of me feels that my life has become &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;entwined&lt;/span&gt; with what started off as a small risk and part-time hobby... All the small sacrifices that I (and May) have made over the past year, all the obstacles we&#39;ve had to go through, and how we evolved along with the biz. We&#39;ve never been that fashion-conscious prior to this ... but now, my daily reads are NyMag and Fashionising ... waa-aaay different from what I used to read. &lt;img src=&quot;http://www.xanga.com/images/happy.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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So at some point or other, the big question the comes:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Are all these (supposedly) small changes &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;worth it&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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I no longer spend so much time writing random stories, nor do I blog much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
I no longer read as much as I used to ... so many books I collected from quaint lil&#39; bookstores are sitting on my shelf, collecting dust.&lt;br /&gt;
Whatever happened to my random weekend trips? And photography?&lt;br /&gt;
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I did not have faith that May and I would be able to make it through unscathed and unaffected ... =( when there is money involved, a lot of things are put at risk - especially ego, pride and friendship.&lt;br /&gt;
I was afraid that the same way our friendship blossomed through Phat Culture ... it would be the same way it&#39;d fall. We are &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;so different&lt;/span&gt; ... how could two people as different as she and I actually have an ongoing healthy partnership? o_O&lt;br /&gt;
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... then I remind myself, gently, that all these things do not matter when you both love the same thing. :) That hard work always pays off. Failure only happens when you begin to doubt yourself ... and when you start losing faith.&lt;br /&gt;
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If there is one good thing that I&#39;ve learned from Phat Culture - it&#39;ll have to be humility. Pride always comes before a fall ... and we&#39;ve had to learn it the hard way. &lt;img src=&quot;http://www.xanga.com/images/sad.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In whatever that you pursue ... it&#39;s always important to keep a humble heart :) and never forget your roots - who you &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; are. &lt;img src=&quot;http://www.xanga.com/images/happy.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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The purpose of this post?&lt;br /&gt;
... To remind myself to never give up.&lt;br /&gt;
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There will be really shitty times ... times that makes you feel worthless, drained out and you&#39;ll feel like it isn&#39;t worth the pain, time and effort.&lt;br /&gt;
But if you really believe in it ... and if you really work for it, it will be worth it. &lt;img src=&quot;http://www.xanga.com/images/laughing.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c2ClztFqsgXAuIPh6rj-vjQb_VucG66uWCrnvNIGED1fjFugb0RSJS0EsL2vY6dbqFQouv95prWQaNt3yFl9kjnsDEO1U2yU3eBl8tJf4JtDit-E5VBpa3BmtCkDmvW5E1xa0XNZ6Jr1/s1600-h/10.jpg&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c2ClztFqsgXAuIPh6rj-vjQb_VucG66uWCrnvNIGED1fjFugb0RSJS0EsL2vY6dbqFQouv95prWQaNt3yFl9kjnsDEO1U2yU3eBl8tJf4JtDit-E5VBpa3BmtCkDmvW5E1xa0XNZ6Jr1/s400/10.jpg&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330527837328651858&quot; style=&quot;cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;We&#39;ll be fine, yea?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OF6DlGacu9MbLfsPfzpuxBZUx9gC0f-9F0MlCPAzFp7yXKZmtAD7WwO8yFbKGrwZ7a4Uwa7GKNL-g33I39bN-GlKZCq3JkHoNBW_595h0_wf3IApN2LGZwdnmo0cPiy54nrNO0iDs9Zk/s1600-h/33.jpg&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OF6DlGacu9MbLfsPfzpuxBZUx9gC0f-9F0MlCPAzFp7yXKZmtAD7WwO8yFbKGrwZ7a4Uwa7GKNL-g33I39bN-GlKZCq3JkHoNBW_595h0_wf3IApN2LGZwdnmo0cPiy54nrNO0iDs9Zk/s400/33.jpg&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330527843099460706&quot; style=&quot;cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 253px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/5214883013782776082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2014/02/phat-culture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/5214883013782776082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/5214883013782776082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2014/02/phat-culture.html' title='Phat Culture'/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3c2ClztFqsgXAuIPh6rj-vjQb_VucG66uWCrnvNIGED1fjFugb0RSJS0EsL2vY6dbqFQouv95prWQaNt3yFl9kjnsDEO1U2yU3eBl8tJf4JtDit-E5VBpa3BmtCkDmvW5E1xa0XNZ6Jr1/s72-c/10.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3195626745841407057.post-5778363293355315651</id><published>2010-02-11T03:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T23:27:37.828+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are some things&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/5778363293355315651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2010/02/there-are-some-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/5778363293355315651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/5778363293355315651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2010/02/there-are-some-things.html' title=''/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3195626745841407057.post-8362910011002949457</id><published>2009-12-13T01:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T23:27:37.840+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="emo"/><title type='text'>You Make My Dreams Come True</title><content type='html'>It was that night - not &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;too &lt;/span&gt;long ago, but yet feels like an entire lifetime away, that I finally truly believed that could &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;someday&lt;/span&gt; find love. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve always been stupidly settling for &#39;second best&#39; ... what I &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; could grow to become love. People whom I cared for, but didn&#39;t make my heart flutter.&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m not talking about your usual butterflies-in-your-tummy ...&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m speaking of the burst of hope that flutters in your tummy and makes your whole body tingle. When you &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; in that moment, that you&#39;re in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been searching for it ... but in all my quests, I never found it. :( As time flew by, I began to think that maybe ... maybe it just wasn&#39;t for me. Maybe what I felt with all these guys were IT ... I just didn&#39;t see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... all it took was one person to make me believe that I could find love. Someday. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&quot;Hey, the world is ending!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;he joked. &quot;What would be the perfect way to spend your final days?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&#39;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;Getting to know you,&#39; I almost blurted out. Almost.&lt;br /&gt;My breathe caught in my throat and I thought &#39;okay ... thank God I didn&#39;t say that&#39;. I stole a glance at him and I thought &#39;his eyes are smiling ... I&#39;m not swooning over them or anything, but wow. He is happy, inside out. He is beautiful, inside and out.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this person&#39;s eyes, soul and engaging spirit ...&lt;br /&gt;I knew there and then that I was capable of love. :p Unlike what I&#39;ve always thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;It was in your dark eyes that I found my ability to laugh at every nonsensical again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don&#39;t want to go into details, but no, there is no happy ending here. (story of my life, har har)&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m just &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; happy and I feel &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; blessed to have an experience as precious as this. :) I&#39;m so glad it wasn&#39;t sexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I wouldn&#39;t want to keep in close contact with you ... because you&#39;ll always be &#39;too perfect&#39; to me. You&#39;d be the epitome of the &#39;happy ending&#39; I never had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I&#39;m happy to have met you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday I&#39;ll get over this ... it&#39;s become strangely repetitive for me, how I manage to &#39;jump&#39; out of things and heal pretty fast,&lt;br /&gt;but you know ... just know that once upon a time, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;you made my dreams come true&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;img src=&quot;http://www.xanga.com/images/pleased.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height=&quot;344&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/tgVNgYXFi_Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;allowFullScreen&quot; value=&quot;true&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;allowscriptaccess&quot; value=&quot;always&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/tgVNgYXFi_Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; allowscriptaccess=&quot;always&quot; allowfullscreen=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;344&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/8362910011002949457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-make-my-dreams-come-true.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/8362910011002949457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/8362910011002949457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-make-my-dreams-come-true.html' title='You Make My Dreams Come True'/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3195626745841407057.post-3476428188746119661</id><published>2009-12-10T00:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T23:27:37.818+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I believe that there are many defining moments in life that shake us so hard, we&#39;re involuntarily (or voluntarily?) &lt;i&gt;shaped&lt;/i&gt; by these moments. These moments stun us into a resigned submission of Fate, or alternatively, push us to rebel, survive and strive to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I have had many such moments in my life. I barely think about them anymore, though a conversation with May led me to think about them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One such moment was when I was in Form 1, during a carnival that my school held.&lt;br /&gt;Let me digress a lil&#39;. When I was 13, I had no self-confidence, and my self-esteem was bare ... I&#39;d hardly spoken to a boy before, and though I rarely thought about it, I *knew* I was quite bad-looking. You&#39;d think that it wouldn&#39;t matter at such a young age ... but trust me, high school was a time when if people thought you were a freak, they&#39;d find a way to let you know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, digression over. The school carnival. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My high school was an all-girls school (No, not many of us has had a lesbian experience) and the carnival was a fund-raiser, or so I recall ...&lt;br /&gt;our school hall was transformed into a &#39;disco&#39; - a fact I wasn&#39;t aware of. All my friends wanted to go in, and I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; didn&#39;t want to ... partially because I was dressed in our school&#39;s baggy sports tee and horrendous blue track pants, and also &#39;cause the idea was very scary, foreign and nauseating for someone like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went in anyway,&lt;br /&gt;and to the 13-year-old me, I felt like I was a lost wanderer in space who&#39;d just landed on some unknown planet with freaky creatures that were swaying really close to each other. There were girls dancing on the stage, and a really popular girl from another class was dancing in between two guys from La Salle, the all-boys school that was our supposed &quot;brother&quot; school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt really weird to see all these random boys come up to my friends and ask them to dance (though they probably don&#39;t remember this by now, haha) ... and all this, I observed from the back of the hall, as I nervously clutched my bag with wide eyes. I remember feeling very lost, and I remember thinking &#39;&lt;i&gt;someone like me REALLY doesn&#39;t belong here&lt;/i&gt;&#39; ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, my friends grew prettier, and the number of boys that tried to court them grew (with some trying to get to know them through befriending me, wtf), I was still chubby, reserved and I could barely talk to a guy without stammering. I had the most God-awful hair ever, and I remember walking past a bunch of &#39;cool&#39; girls, who laughed and sneered at me, hissing &#39;&lt;i&gt;grow up, girl&lt;/i&gt;&#39; into my ear as I walked past them. :/&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/3476428188746119661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-believe-that-there-are-many-defining.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/3476428188746119661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/3476428188746119661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-believe-that-there-are-many-defining.html' title=''/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3195626745841407057.post-2447763701002367409</id><published>2009-10-27T01:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T23:27:37.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Timing, Fate and Chance</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been thinking about timing, fate and chance a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A conversation with Veen made me remember a lot of things ...&lt;br /&gt;and in turn, realized how sad I&#39;ve been, as much as I&#39;ve been trying to deny it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know,&lt;br /&gt;I believe that sometimes in life ... you get just &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; chance with a particular person. A second chance is rare, and almost never happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long time ago, he and I took a late-night drive out to town together. In the car, we talked about many things.&lt;br /&gt;Life.&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;Money ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him about his decision to work overseas ... asides from obvious monetary reasons. Why leave? Isn&#39;t he happy here?&lt;br /&gt;And he looked at me and said &#39;I have no reasons to stay here. Nobody to stay for.&#39;, his eyes probing into mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell him to stay for me. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn&#39;t ...&lt;br /&gt;how could I?&lt;br /&gt;Whether or not it was important to him ... I was young, I was broke, and I was unemployed. Maybe it couldn&#39;t matter less to him or the world ... but it mattered to &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I&#39;ve realized that maybe ...  just maybe - that night was &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;. That night was my &quot;chance&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I&#39;m older, more mature (... a bit), with a business and all that jazz ... I&#39;ve already missed my chance. I can&#39;t turn back time. We&#39;re beyond that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid, stupid, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;stupid&lt;/span&gt; me.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/feeds/2447763701002367409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/10/timing-fate-and-chance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/2447763701002367409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3195626745841407057/posts/default/2447763701002367409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suemefordreaming.blogspot.com/2009/10/timing-fate-and-chance.html' title='Timing, Fate and Chance'/><author><name>Phat Culture</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16266606002228945865</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mK6Eee2zoA_JD2bcuK0mrTYTYeSJZBwdQJlnavAenGrte8JR3JFJYn6XLIrJK2bmwP41FOQWBXyWJECdjolzuXQC5UUtPoVAybGwYKOlXWCb2Di404c4TVlrdUj32GI/s220/buttonxa7.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>