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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMAQnYyeSp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633</id><updated>2011-11-28T01:24:03.891Z</updated><title>My Life Story..</title><subtitle type="html">life is full of memories to cherish, these are mine..</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/kYeGy" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/kyegy" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QFSHo4fip7ImA9WhZTFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-4280135815181307858</id><published>2011-03-18T00:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-18T00:48:39.436Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-18T00:48:39.436Z</app:edited><title>a new life</title><content type="html">my most important person and my closest friends are all halfway around the world away from me..
so, i need to start living my life with no one but me in it..
for starters, i need to stop relying on others to do my work !!

need to do list :

- plan my own study plans..
- plan my own travel plans..
- plan my own life routines..

before this, i need to consider a lot of things before planning anything..
now, there's only me in my plans so, there's only me for me to consider..
it is a bit easier but i have to say, 
i dont mind being burdened by all those work if it means i wont be alone..

being alone : lonely : not happy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-4280135815181307858?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RLxxm89VEftKFW1Yy3In6YjCAzw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RLxxm89VEftKFW1Yy3In6YjCAzw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/xbw8lO3hWE0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4280135815181307858/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=4280135815181307858&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4280135815181307858?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4280135815181307858?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/xbw8lO3hWE0/new-life.html" title="a new life" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2011/03/new-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMAR3o9eSp7ImA9Wx9RFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-8858890218966505442</id><published>2010-12-17T09:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-17T09:17:26.461Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-17T09:17:26.461Z</app:edited><title>~Pain~</title><content type="html">how can a person's heart change so suddenly?
one minute its love and then its anger..
one minute its yearn and the other its despise..

i've given you everything a man can ask for..
trust, loyalty, love, friendship, company..
my heart is fully yours..
but why do you have to take it for granted?
why do you have to hurt it?

truly, if you really do love me..
you won't even try to hurt me..
even a little..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-8858890218966505442?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f9GAHt51TBjjMwp2khTfyVSH_v4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f9GAHt51TBjjMwp2khTfyVSH_v4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/dsWPba4tQgI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8858890218966505442/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=8858890218966505442&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8858890218966505442?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8858890218966505442?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/dsWPba4tQgI/pain.html" title="~Pain~" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/pain.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AMRXg6fyp7ImA9Wx5WEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-1007707294563846632</id><published>2010-09-24T01:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T01:56:24.617+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-24T01:56:24.617+01:00</app:edited><title>19th Story : The Beginning</title><content type="html">To start doing something is never an easy task..&lt;br /&gt;
especially when you are most comfortable doing the complete opposite..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last week is not a really good week..&lt;br /&gt;
A lot of things happened, &lt;br /&gt;
Things that I never wish to happen in a million years..&lt;br /&gt;
Things that broke my heart..&lt;br /&gt;
Things that makes me happy..&lt;br /&gt;
and things that give me a chance to create a whole new me..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to be a very hardworking girl..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to be a very smart girl..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to have a plan for everything..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to make decisions for my sake instead of others before..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to do everything to make sure I am not hurt..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to never let myself be swept off my feet by anything..&lt;br /&gt;
I think, I used to not put any hope or trust or hope on anybody but myself..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
but now,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am as lazy as a sloth.. or maybe lazier..&lt;br /&gt;
I am and feel like an idiot each day..&lt;br /&gt;
I have no plans for anything at all..&lt;br /&gt;
I make decisions to make others happy..&lt;br /&gt;
I do everything even if I am hurt by it..&lt;br /&gt;
I am easily swayed  by people..&lt;br /&gt;
and my biggest mistake ever : I trust and have hopes on others..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now, as I am beginning to restart my life,&lt;br /&gt;
I need to change myself as I believe,&lt;br /&gt;
I was much happier back in the days I used to be me..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;First step&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; : Make a plan for my daily life&lt;br /&gt;
~ having a schedule for study and play times is good enough..&lt;br /&gt; 
I am a student after all..&lt;br /&gt;
~ I am going to make sure I follow the schedule the best I can..&lt;br /&gt;
what is the use of it if I don't follow it, right ?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Second step&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; : Study like I am having the final exam tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;
~ I made a decision long ago to not be better than a certain someone, but now I think, I should be the best that I can..&lt;br /&gt;
~ Maybe then, I can get the long awaited 4.2 GPA my mother have been dreaming of for years..&lt;br /&gt;
~ the nerdy aisyah is back !!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Third step&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; : Enjoy my time with my friends to the fullest&lt;br /&gt;
~ with my friends around, even the most painful moment of my life just occurred I'll be just fine..&lt;br /&gt;
~ my friends are real life savers sometimes.. they'll listen to me even when they don't want to.. but that's all I really need..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fourth step&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; : I am only to do things that will make me happy..&lt;br /&gt;
~ I love smiling and I hate crying.. but most of all, I hate smiling when I actually feel like crying, which I actually do a lot nowadays..&lt;br /&gt;
~ I am gonna think through everything before doing anything so I won't be hurt, ever !
&lt;br /&gt;
That is all there is to the beginning of my new life.&lt;br /&gt;
I am girl that loves order.. I am a cancer after all..&lt;br /&gt;
So, my life beginning next week will be nothing but order..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
p/s : I just read this book.. &lt;a target="_blank"  href="http://www.amazon.com/Adventures-Sherlock-Holmes-ebook/dp/B000JQU1VS?ie=UTF8&amp;tag=myli0b7-20&amp;link_code=btl&amp;camp=213689&amp;creative=392969"&gt;The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=myli0b7-20&amp;l=btl&amp;camp=213689&amp;creative=392969&amp;o=1&amp;a=B000JQU1VS" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /&gt; If you are a fan of mysteries, this is a book to read..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-1007707294563846632?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wXer05TUOLFn-B0DFLqzswdh__s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wXer05TUOLFn-B0DFLqzswdh__s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/T3H0EUaQkqU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1007707294563846632/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=1007707294563846632&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1007707294563846632?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1007707294563846632?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/T3H0EUaQkqU/19th-story-beginning.html" title="19th Story : The Beginning" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/09/19th-story-beginning.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEBSHY7eSp7ImA9Wx5RGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-6465974879174444871</id><published>2010-08-27T21:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T22:30:59.801+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-27T22:30:59.801+01:00</app:edited><title>Memories ~</title><content type="html">I was never good with my memory on meeting people..&lt;br /&gt;I forget their faces and names easily even after meeting them more than once..&lt;br /&gt;but there are some people that I remember them fully after only meeting them once..&lt;br /&gt;and even before I totally know them,&lt;br /&gt;I just know they'll be a big part of my life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ meeting one..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a school day like any other day..&lt;br /&gt;I was in class the whole day, then, time for recess..&lt;br /&gt;I went out of the class, and there were two boys coming down from the stairs..&lt;br /&gt;suddenly, one of them said to me :&lt;br /&gt;" awk ni wan aisyah atiqah wan zainalam ke? "&lt;br /&gt;I have never talked to that boy before nor have I even seen him..&lt;br /&gt;and for him to ask me using my full name was something very interesting..&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember the way he was wearing his school uniform that day..&lt;br /&gt;very nerdy but with his own twist..&lt;br /&gt;till this day, I can picture everything that happen that day..&lt;br /&gt;he become one of the best person in my life...&lt;br /&gt;the one that usually regulates my mood for the day..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ meeting two..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have a crush on a guy at school..&lt;br /&gt;my class is on one end and his class on the other..&lt;br /&gt;but, I always took the long way around to go to the canteen so that I'll pass his class..&lt;br /&gt;one day, when i was passing by his class,&lt;br /&gt;there was a boy waiting in front of the class..&lt;br /&gt;He said to me : " nak cari ****** lg ke ? "&lt;br /&gt;even though he was wrong in the who department, &lt;br /&gt;I remember every part of him that day..&lt;br /&gt;starting from that day onwards, I started to notice him..&lt;br /&gt;and now, he is one of my oldest best friends..&lt;br /&gt;the one that always listens to my problems..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ meeting three..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night in a boarding school is always a very sad night..&lt;br /&gt;I have 2 others roommates and I don't even realize they were there.&lt;br /&gt;That night, after arranging my stuffs, &lt;br /&gt;I was going to lie down and get in touch with my emotions..&lt;br /&gt;then, I heard something coming from across my room..&lt;br /&gt;the sound of cries..&lt;br /&gt;as a believer of all ghost stories, I was a tad scared then,&lt;br /&gt;I realized that the cries came from one of the bed my roommate was on..&lt;br /&gt;I went to her and tried to console her as I know she's homesick..&lt;br /&gt;her cries only got worse, so, I went to the other bed next to her..&lt;br /&gt;and asked her to help me consoling the other girl..&lt;br /&gt;the girl turn to me and said sorry and that she is also crying..&lt;br /&gt;and there I was, in between two beds, consoling both of them..&lt;br /&gt;even today, I can remember the scenes of that day..&lt;br /&gt;they are both my best ever friends and roommates..&lt;br /&gt;Till these day, I still wish I am living i the same room as them..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ meeting four..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This occured on the first day I was in dublin..&lt;br /&gt;After eating with everyone, I wanted to go back to my room..&lt;br /&gt;Someone was supposed to come and pick me up but no one came..&lt;br /&gt;then, I met two girls walking around..&lt;br /&gt;I asked one of them where were they off to,&lt;br /&gt;and since they were going to the the same place as mine,&lt;br /&gt;I agreed to follow them..&lt;br /&gt;There was a girl who was so confident that she knows the way..&lt;br /&gt;overly confident in my opinion..&lt;br /&gt;but in the end, I was the one that found the way back..&lt;br /&gt;Even after several days not meeting her,&lt;br /&gt;I still remember her..&lt;br /&gt;and she's now one of my closest friend..&lt;br /&gt;We are even in the same house..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ meeting five..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very sure I met him a few times before..&lt;br /&gt;but I cannot recall his name or his face..&lt;br /&gt;so, I take that meeting as our first..&lt;br /&gt;oddly enough, it was on halloween night with me dressed as a witch..&lt;br /&gt;and him, as a hairy man..&lt;br /&gt;As weird as it is, that is the first memory I have of him..&lt;br /&gt;I am not whether he knows I was there..&lt;br /&gt;and now, he is one of my most important friend..&lt;br /&gt;the friend that always make me laugh even during my saddest moments..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are loads more memories of my first meetings with my best friends..&lt;br /&gt;but these are the most special of the all..&lt;br /&gt;I hope, even if I have some kind of dementia when I'm older, &lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget the meetings I had with them..&lt;br /&gt;because these are memories that are too precious for me to lose..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-6465974879174444871?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LVwcZKHOJf3-UA_AOiZ0ef29LMI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LVwcZKHOJf3-UA_AOiZ0ef29LMI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/vprvgrp6yKo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6465974879174444871/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=6465974879174444871&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/6465974879174444871?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/6465974879174444871?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/vprvgrp6yKo/memories.html" title="Memories ~" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/08/memories.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGQnkycCp7ImA9Wx5REEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-5663042211955468770</id><published>2010-08-17T20:32:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T21:57:03.798+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-17T21:57:03.798+01:00</app:edited><title>18th Story : The Failure</title><content type="html">I hate myself if I fail at anything at all..&lt;br /&gt;I will blame myself for every little details that contribute to that failure..&lt;br /&gt;and I will never stop blaming myself for it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a very good memory of the bad things that happen to me..&lt;br /&gt;I rarely remember the happy stuffs but I never forget something bad..&lt;br /&gt;So, every failure that happened to me for around the almost the past 15 years,&lt;br /&gt;are mostly in my head..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember how I failed to run away from kindergarten when I was 6..&lt;br /&gt;Even now, I still can't believe how stupid I was back then..&lt;br /&gt;The plan was perfect..&lt;br /&gt;When the teacher is going out through the gate to buy snacks in front of the kindergarten,&lt;br /&gt;I am going to go out and stop a taxi to go home..&lt;br /&gt;the mistake I made was,&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking out of the gate, &lt;br /&gt;I said bye loudly and wave to my teacher..&lt;br /&gt;Habits are scary..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are loads more failures I made because of my habits..&lt;br /&gt;and also because I don't have the necessary habits..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I really compare myself to others,&lt;br /&gt;my failures are not that much and not as important..&lt;br /&gt;Others have failures that led them to their death..&lt;br /&gt;Or make their lives a living hell..&lt;br /&gt;Mine is never that big..&lt;br /&gt;Most of my failures are trivial..&lt;br /&gt;but because I can remember most of them,&lt;br /&gt;I view myself as a failure..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-5663042211955468770?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vix8o3z4xalyY9NjYfVakU6IgIk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vix8o3z4xalyY9NjYfVakU6IgIk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/63xdiipg73s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5663042211955468770/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=5663042211955468770&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5663042211955468770?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5663042211955468770?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/63xdiipg73s/18th-story-failure.html" title="18th Story : The Failure" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/08/18th-story-failure.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8MR3s6eip7ImA9Wx5SGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-6724158445846912085</id><published>2010-08-16T16:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T16:51:26.512+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-16T16:51:26.512+01:00</app:edited><title>17th Story : The Move</title><content type="html">I think I am going to move to another house..&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why,&lt;br /&gt;but since I start living alone,&lt;br /&gt;I feel more relaxed and less lonely than usual..&lt;br /&gt;When there are people around me,&lt;br /&gt;but no one really cares I am around or not..&lt;br /&gt;or did not even realize I am there,&lt;br /&gt;I feel more lonely than when I am actually alone..&lt;br /&gt;No one will miss me much if I move anyway..&lt;br /&gt;I am not that essential in the house..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have an issue about sharing things..&lt;br /&gt;I have never ever care if anyone use my thing..&lt;br /&gt;or about any expenses..&lt;br /&gt;I'll share everything and pay everything without any care..&lt;br /&gt;but once others start caring and calculating things,&lt;br /&gt;I will start caring as well..&lt;br /&gt;I will start caring about every little thing..&lt;br /&gt;And I hate doing that because&lt;br /&gt;that is very uncomfortable for me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then, &lt;br /&gt;comes the money issue..&lt;br /&gt;This is not really anyone's fault..&lt;br /&gt;But still, I have no money and no one really cares even how many times I said it..&lt;br /&gt;I need to find a place less expensive than I have now..&lt;br /&gt;one which can at least make me able to pay my rent and bills,&lt;br /&gt;and I will still have some to spare to go for my travels..&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind not having any money to do anything&lt;br /&gt;but I have to have money to travel..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have to move..&lt;br /&gt;now, the only problem is, where to move in to ??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-6724158445846912085?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ex9f6TQWY-EB97EWSygoRFxOVGw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ex9f6TQWY-EB97EWSygoRFxOVGw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/5KWJwCxSiog" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6724158445846912085/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=6724158445846912085&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/6724158445846912085?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/6724158445846912085?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/5KWJwCxSiog/17th-story-move.html" title="17th Story : The Move" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/08/17th-story-move.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGRX89eSp7ImA9Wx5TEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-4009477579857850073</id><published>2010-07-25T02:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T02:27:04.161+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-25T02:27:04.161+01:00</app:edited><title>16th Story : The Praise</title><content type="html">To what extend can a person do to get a praise from someone ?&lt;br /&gt;Because I honestly do not have any idea on what else to do to get a praise from the one person that I want to hear it from..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just one praise will do..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- you cooking is great..&lt;br /&gt;- you are very kind..&lt;br /&gt;- you look wonderful..&lt;br /&gt;- you smell nice..&lt;br /&gt;- you are so smart&lt;br /&gt;- you make my day..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just simple words..&lt;br /&gt;I only wish to hear them once a month if once a week is that hard..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I have to put up with all this :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I can cook better than this..&lt;br /&gt;- you look fat, lose some weight..&lt;br /&gt;- your face is full of acne, do something about it..&lt;br /&gt;- you smell like my breath in the morning..&lt;br /&gt;- are you sure you have a head ?&lt;br /&gt;- why am I stuck with you all day ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried my nest to be the best I can be..&lt;br /&gt;but why is the one person I am waiting to praise me,&lt;br /&gt;do nothing but humiliate me, over and over again.. ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I really that bad ?&lt;br /&gt;Am I really that unworthy of a simple praise ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I am not supposed to feel like crying after wards,&lt;br /&gt;what am I supposed to feel ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-4009477579857850073?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ynFsMhCXFeFcYw1OQC_g7jqIDVo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ynFsMhCXFeFcYw1OQC_g7jqIDVo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/W6NTaLwNWKI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4009477579857850073/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=4009477579857850073&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4009477579857850073?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4009477579857850073?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/W6NTaLwNWKI/16th-story-praise.html" title="16th Story : The Praise" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/07/16th-story-praise.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcCSXw5fyp7ImA9WxBaGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-3407282872715335445</id><published>2010-03-30T04:42:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T05:07:48.227+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-30T05:07:48.227+01:00</app:edited><title>15th Story : The Habit</title><content type="html">I have a very bad habit..&lt;br /&gt;a habit of buying things I don't really need..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's just a simple list of things I've bought so far with its price..&lt;br /&gt;reasons I bought them &lt;br /&gt;and why I think its a waste of money now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;a home sauna&lt;/span&gt;  *45euro&lt;br /&gt;~ I believe this is good for the skin and it can help me lose weight&lt;br /&gt;~ I used it less than 10 times in a year bcoz I don't have time to set up the whole thing that took 30 minutes just to be used for 10 minutes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;a harp&lt;/span&gt;  *240euro&lt;br /&gt;~ I love musical instruments and I know I can find time to play it..&lt;br /&gt;~ Its a good thing harps don't rust if not, mine is already rusted.. playing it was fun but tuning a harp with 39 strings of 5 octaves needs a lot of work !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;dresses that do not fit me&lt;/span&gt;  *250euro+-&lt;br /&gt;~ I'll be slimmer by next month and I'll be able to wear them..&lt;br /&gt;~ I do not wish to humiliate my self esteem any further.. T_T  even after a year, they still won't fit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;make up sets&lt;/span&gt;  *100euro&lt;br /&gt;~ I'm a girl, of course I need make up for my every day life..&lt;br /&gt;~ the make up brush, the 70 colours eyeshadow set, the lipstick, the blusher, the concealer, the shimmer glow n the bronzer, has not even been opened..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;a masquerade mask&lt;/span&gt;  *20 euro&lt;br /&gt;~ its sweet, cute, glamourous and I was in venice, where mask are everywhere..&lt;br /&gt;~ when will I ever need to wear a mask ??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and those are just a tiny portion of things I've bought that I am now regretting..&lt;br /&gt;mostly because I am now in a state where I am desperately in need of money&lt;br /&gt;when will I ever stop with this habit of mine.. &lt;br /&gt;if I save that money I spent, maybe I can buy a house by now.. =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-3407282872715335445?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tCUfOMkzE5X4e-shn1Axiif4-Oc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tCUfOMkzE5X4e-shn1Axiif4-Oc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/aBEBdN-35GA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3407282872715335445/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=3407282872715335445&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/3407282872715335445?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/3407282872715335445?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/aBEBdN-35GA/15th-story-habit.html" title="15th Story : The Habit" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/03/15th-story-habit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEADQHo-eSp7ImA9WxBaFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-5305500964766973256</id><published>2010-03-25T04:52:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-03-25T04:52:51.451Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-25T04:52:51.451Z</app:edited><title>14th Story : The Plan</title><content type="html">Every girl has at least a plan on what to do in her life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I have a plan on what to do with everything in my life..&lt;br /&gt;I planned for things to do in my every days, the day 2 years from now and even the day when I have children which may or may not come..&lt;br /&gt;I even planned for a vacation that is supposed to be spontaneous n unplanned !&lt;br /&gt;and this plan of mine includes :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~what to do, &lt;br /&gt;~how to do it, &lt;br /&gt;~when to do it, &lt;br /&gt;~and whose doing it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, it is very tiring to plan everything..&lt;br /&gt;but it is even more tiring to not have anything to plan..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-5305500964766973256?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFtVanraKOxEZhhG7MJPwq8Uark/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFtVanraKOxEZhhG7MJPwq8Uark/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFtVanraKOxEZhhG7MJPwq8Uark/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nFtVanraKOxEZhhG7MJPwq8Uark/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/TmAgzcwMBoo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5305500964766973256/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=5305500964766973256&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5305500964766973256?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5305500964766973256?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/TmAgzcwMBoo/14th-story-plan.html" title="14th Story : The Plan" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/03/14th-story-plan.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYHQH4yfCp7ImA9WxBVEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-7750999944938333988</id><published>2010-02-14T22:10:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:55:31.094Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-14T22:55:31.094Z</app:edited><title>Memories ~</title><content type="html">Every person on earth must have celebrate Valentine's day once in their life..&lt;br /&gt;I mean, all of those who know what Valentine's day is..&lt;br /&gt;There's hundreds if not more stories have made and told about the love on Valentine's..&lt;br /&gt;all are full of romance and love..&lt;br /&gt;all are told with great passion and detail..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all those stories, here is mine..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this day, 14th Feb 2010.. &lt;br /&gt;I went out with a special someone..&lt;br /&gt;after preparing myself for around 2 hours, changing clothes a couple times,&lt;br /&gt;I manage to look decent enough for the day..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started with a movie, Valentine's Day..&lt;br /&gt;We weren't late but since people entered earlier than we do..&lt;br /&gt;We ended up sitting at the 3rd row from the front..&lt;br /&gt;I can still feel the pain now..&lt;br /&gt;But, even though the movie is not a movie I'll ever see again..&lt;br /&gt;It gave us a look into our own relationship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we went for dinner..&lt;br /&gt;Since Dublin is not really the best place to have a dinner date,&lt;br /&gt;we ended up eating at the place we usually have dinner..&lt;br /&gt;It was nothing special.. but I love the atmosphere..&lt;br /&gt;We didn't talk much but I enjoyed every minute..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The peak came after all that..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Near the restaurant, there was a giant Ferris wheel,&lt;br /&gt;that we managed to overlook for the whole time we were in Dublin..&lt;br /&gt;Curious as we are, we decided to have a look..&lt;br /&gt;We didn't ride the Ferris wheel ( Its freezing cold ! )&lt;br /&gt;but we just sat next to each other looking at the it going round and round..&lt;br /&gt;I realized then that I was very happy..&lt;br /&gt;Just by having someone sitting beside me..&lt;br /&gt;The view was spectacular and all is exciting..&lt;br /&gt;all because I have someone special beside me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, he told me to close my eyes..&lt;br /&gt;I was excited as I was not expecting anything..&lt;br /&gt;then, when he told me to open my eyes, this is what I saw :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/S3h-VrVPm-I/AAAAAAAAADU/n0Vjjng5zUM/s1600-h/DSC_0179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/S3h-VrVPm-I/AAAAAAAAADU/n0Vjjng5zUM/s320/DSC_0179.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438235460924054498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;~ Isn't this the cutest thing ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about anyone else but to me,&lt;br /&gt;the most precious gifts are gifts one made themselves..&lt;br /&gt;more precious than diamonds or other worldly possessions..&lt;br /&gt;I am so happy that I can't stop smiling even now..&lt;br /&gt;I wish in the years to come, we will still be as happy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-7750999944938333988?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phuP8vvSK3ZW3Im94iUS8plIPRI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phuP8vvSK3ZW3Im94iUS8plIPRI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phuP8vvSK3ZW3Im94iUS8plIPRI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phuP8vvSK3ZW3Im94iUS8plIPRI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/o-Sydx7NIv8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7750999944938333988/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=7750999944938333988&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7750999944938333988?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7750999944938333988?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/o-Sydx7NIv8/memories.html" title="Memories ~" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/S3h-VrVPm-I/AAAAAAAAADU/n0Vjjng5zUM/s72-c/DSC_0179.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/02/memories.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHQHs5cCp7ImA9WxBWGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-1476456532956135257</id><published>2010-02-12T00:53:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-02-12T01:13:51.528Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-12T01:13:51.528Z</app:edited><title>13th Story : The Reason</title><content type="html">I ask myself :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Why do people keep living when they know its hard ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep living when they know its tiring ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep living when they know its lonely ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep living when they know they'll die ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep wanting when they know they have no hope ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep wanting when they know they'll never be satisfied ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep wanting when they know they don't need it ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep wanting when they know its nothing ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep loving when they know they'll get hurt ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep loving when they know it'll make them cry ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep loving when they know its an illusion ?&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep loving when they know its hard ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only there's one book, or a souce to tell the reasons..&lt;br /&gt;Lifes of so many will be much better..&lt;br /&gt;Because these days, I feel tired of Living, Wanting and Loving..&lt;br /&gt;and I need reasons to continue..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being alive now seems so dull and lonely..&lt;br /&gt;~ &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;you are with someone but no one is with you..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being hopeful for something seems of no purpose..&lt;br /&gt;~ &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;you give your life to get but gain nothing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and being in love feels like drinking poison..&lt;br /&gt;~ &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;it takes away the thirst but kills you later on..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to sleep with a smile on my face at night..&lt;br /&gt;and not sigh right away when I wake up in the morning..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-1476456532956135257?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk3OGJnsauZgdll3Lb764OVDsUU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk3OGJnsauZgdll3Lb764OVDsUU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk3OGJnsauZgdll3Lb764OVDsUU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yk3OGJnsauZgdll3Lb764OVDsUU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/f22DmpvTo70" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1476456532956135257/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=1476456532956135257&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1476456532956135257?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1476456532956135257?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/f22DmpvTo70/13th-story-reason.html" title="13th Story : The Reason" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2010/02/13th-story-reason.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUFRnk8eCp7ImA9WxNaFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-8681509596544832480</id><published>2009-11-29T18:46:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-29T20:40:17.770Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-29T20:40:17.770Z</app:edited><title>12th Story : The Meal</title><content type="html">I love to cook..&lt;br /&gt;But I love it more seeing the finish meal..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cook when I feel disturbed by something..&lt;br /&gt;I cook when I am happy because of something..&lt;br /&gt;I cook when I am about to cry because of something..&lt;br /&gt;I cook when I feel the need to make something..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home, I was not allowed to even wash my dishes, what more to cook..&lt;br /&gt;because both my mum and my maid,&lt;br /&gt;consider me as a nuisance in the kitchen..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I can cook anything I want, anytime I want..&lt;br /&gt;and each time I am cooking, everything just fade away around me..&lt;br /&gt;at that time, its just me in the kitchen cooking..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here starts the list of all the meals so far :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbO5gCe_I/AAAAAAAAACo/EaxznWRNBTU/s1600/DSC_0124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbO5gCe_I/AAAAAAAAACo/EaxznWRNBTU/s320/DSC_0124.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409627151425240050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbOoLPiFI/AAAAAAAAACg/BMv4KsxEiRs/s1600/DSC_0147.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbOoLPiFI/AAAAAAAAACg/BMv4KsxEiRs/s320/DSC_0147.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409627146774612050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbOP7IL9I/AAAAAAAAACY/tEZNimApYaY/s1600/DSC_0120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbOP7IL9I/AAAAAAAAACY/tEZNimApYaY/s320/DSC_0120.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409627140264570834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbN3alD1I/AAAAAAAAACQ/wOkXtMJYXZU/s1600/DSC_0152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbN3alD1I/AAAAAAAAACQ/wOkXtMJYXZU/s320/DSC_0152.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409627133685600082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbNcYhnHI/AAAAAAAAACI/Si7q2PPXgKQ/s1600/DSC_0123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbNcYhnHI/AAAAAAAAACI/Si7q2PPXgKQ/s320/DSC_0123.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409627126429228146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are what I usually have for my dinner here..&lt;br /&gt;Its simple to make but delicious to taste.. &lt;br /&gt;to my taste at least..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just looking at them made me hungry + very very happy..&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to start cooking again tomorrow..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-8681509596544832480?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CpJ0A-zCI0WMJKU71FW8O6XyxfI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CpJ0A-zCI0WMJKU71FW8O6XyxfI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/SB_9tqQaktk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8681509596544832480/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=8681509596544832480&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8681509596544832480?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8681509596544832480?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/SB_9tqQaktk/12th-story-meal.html" title="12th Story : The Meal" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxLbO5gCe_I/AAAAAAAAACo/EaxznWRNBTU/s72-c/DSC_0124.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/12th-story-meal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cMSXw9cSp7ImA9WxNaFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-4753995142840800178</id><published>2009-11-29T02:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-29T03:24:48.269Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-29T03:24:48.269Z</app:edited><title>11th Story : The Words</title><content type="html">Can you say the words ' I Love You' easily ?&lt;br /&gt;How hard is it to actually say those words to someone ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you look at me,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are talking to me,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk to me,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are happy over something I've done,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you feel angry over something that happen to me,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are smiling to me,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you make me laugh,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you stop me from crying,&lt;br /&gt;~I want to say 'I Love You'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to say these words for so long..&lt;br /&gt;But why am I not saying anything ?&lt;br /&gt;When should I say these words ?&lt;br /&gt;What will happen after I say the words ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the times, I wonder..&lt;br /&gt;with me wanting to tell you 'I Love You' so much and so many times..&lt;br /&gt;Can you see how much I love you every time you look into my eyes ?&lt;br /&gt;Or, can you heart listen to mine ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxHpQXRTzfI/AAAAAAAAACA/hDglpgoDXmE/s1600/I_Love_You_HP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxHpQXRTzfI/AAAAAAAAACA/hDglpgoDXmE/s320/I_Love_You_HP.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409361094782471666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I am to say 'I Love You' to you now..&lt;br /&gt;Will you just let me with my feeling and leave or..&lt;br /&gt;Will you say 'I Love You' to me too ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-4753995142840800178?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hIXMiwWRIHkhuUAmaNToY4HeewM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hIXMiwWRIHkhuUAmaNToY4HeewM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hIXMiwWRIHkhuUAmaNToY4HeewM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hIXMiwWRIHkhuUAmaNToY4HeewM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/m7IFk78Kyu4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4753995142840800178/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=4753995142840800178&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4753995142840800178?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4753995142840800178?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/m7IFk78Kyu4/11th-story-words.html" title="11th Story : The Words" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SxHpQXRTzfI/AAAAAAAAACA/hDglpgoDXmE/s72-c/I_Love_You_HP.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/11th-story-words.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cAQH04fip7ImA9WxNbFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-4542702555650526498</id><published>2009-11-20T01:08:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-20T01:37:21.336Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-20T01:37:21.336Z</app:edited><title>10th Story : The Study</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwXypMCKNNI/AAAAAAAAABw/S_KUfV-QAOM/s1600/reading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwXypMCKNNI/AAAAAAAAABw/S_KUfV-QAOM/s320/reading.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405993717146989778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly hate studying for something that I am not interested in..&lt;br /&gt;What more to study something that I hate..&lt;br /&gt;But, right now that is what I am doing..&lt;br /&gt;I kept thinking why am I even burdening myself with such things..&lt;br /&gt;I can get a D at least even without studying at all..&lt;br /&gt;So, why am I trying so hard to get greater grades ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I get an A for it, &lt;br /&gt;I obviously will not be happy because I pushed myself so hard for it..&lt;br /&gt;and I will not be proud of it as well..&lt;br /&gt;I don't even like it in the first place..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times like this, I regret taking medicine..&lt;br /&gt;No matter how good I get at something or how bad I did,&lt;br /&gt;I never really care because I don't like studying for it..&lt;br /&gt;Its not like I hate medicine and want to take up something else..&lt;br /&gt;but because most of the things I am learning now..&lt;br /&gt;is of no importance to me in the future..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see any point in studying and memorising &lt;br /&gt;things that are too trivial or too detailed..&lt;br /&gt;but will not be handy in the future..&lt;br /&gt;Like memorising all the attachment of all the muscles in the body..&lt;br /&gt;or the different histological images of cells..&lt;br /&gt;If we are to go to doctors working in the hospital that isn't a lecturer..&lt;br /&gt;None of them even knows any of this anymore..&lt;br /&gt;But, as a student, we have to know for the sake of knowing for exams..&lt;br /&gt;and I hate that so much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But they can give me a case to study..&lt;br /&gt;and I can and will spend hours and even days of my time to solve it..&lt;br /&gt;because I know its realistic and will be useful to me..&lt;br /&gt;and not something I need to know to be able to write in essays..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be knowledgeable..&lt;br /&gt;and know a lot about everything..&lt;br /&gt;but, I hate doing it for the sake of exams..&lt;br /&gt;I want learn them because they are new knowledge..&lt;br /&gt;not something to learn that I'll forget once written on the exam papers..&lt;br /&gt;and that is mostly what I am doing now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate studying because of this..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-4542702555650526498?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_64HkWG4VWTiEdWi1wvW0ERLFEA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_64HkWG4VWTiEdWi1wvW0ERLFEA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/H3gHvJl7-xI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4542702555650526498/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=4542702555650526498&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4542702555650526498?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/4542702555650526498?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/H3gHvJl7-xI/10th-story-study.html" title="10th Story : The Study" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwXypMCKNNI/AAAAAAAAABw/S_KUfV-QAOM/s72-c/reading.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/10th-story-study.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMNQH47fyp7ImA9WxNbE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-7711855393601482740</id><published>2009-11-15T23:34:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-15T23:41:31.007Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-15T23:41:31.007Z</app:edited><title>My Personality ~</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwCRbiRySTI/AAAAAAAAABo/jl0sPDGbTBc/s1600-h/1122935165_uresimg080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwCRbiRySTI/AAAAAAAAABo/jl0sPDGbTBc/s320/1122935165_uresimg080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404479455088494898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The me, who is a cancer.. ~the crab..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sangat seronok didamping &lt;br /&gt;-Banyak berahsia dan sukar dimengerti terutamanya lelaki &lt;br /&gt;-Agak pendiam kecuali diransang &lt;br /&gt;-Ada harga dan maruah diri &lt;br /&gt;-Tak suka menyusahkan orang lain tapi tidak marah apabila disusahkan &lt;br /&gt;-Mudah dipujuk dan bercakap lurus &lt;br /&gt;-Sangat menjaga hati orang lain &lt;br /&gt;-Sangat peramah &lt;br /&gt;-Emosi sangat mendalam tapi mudah terluka hatinya &lt;br /&gt;-Berjiwa sentimental &lt;br /&gt;-Jarang berdendam &lt;br /&gt;-Mudah memaafkan tapi sukar melupakan &lt;br /&gt;-Tidak suka benda remeh-temeh &lt;br /&gt;-Membimbing cara fizikal dan mental &lt;br /&gt;-Sangat peka, caring dan mengasihi serta penyayang &lt;br /&gt;-Layanan yang serupa dengan semua orang &lt;br /&gt;-Tinggi daya simpati &lt;br /&gt;-Pemerhatian yang tajam &lt;br /&gt;-Suka menilai orang lain dengan pemerhatian &lt;br /&gt;-Mudah dan rajin belajar &lt;br /&gt;-Suka muhasabah diri &lt;br /&gt;-Suka mengenangkan peristiwa atau kawan lama &lt;br /&gt;-Suka mendiamkan diri &lt;br /&gt;-Suka duduk di rumah &lt;br /&gt;-Suka tunggu kawan tapi tak cari kawan &lt;br /&gt;-Tak agresif kecuali terpaksa &lt;br /&gt;-Lemah dari segi kesihatan perut &lt;br /&gt;-Mudah gemuk kawal tak kawal diet &lt;br /&gt;-Minta disayangi &lt;br /&gt;-Mudah terluka hati tapi lambat pulih &lt;br /&gt;-Terlalu mengambil berat &lt;br /&gt;-Rajin dalam membuat kerja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is mostly me..&lt;br /&gt;I don't like some of them..&lt;br /&gt;Some people don't like some of them as well..&lt;br /&gt;but this is me..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-7711855393601482740?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y6DRLuyDawBEncxAlWmXbg128ds/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y6DRLuyDawBEncxAlWmXbg128ds/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/ji5HSywMP1o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7711855393601482740/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=7711855393601482740&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7711855393601482740?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7711855393601482740?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/ji5HSywMP1o/my-personality.html" title="My Personality ~" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SwCRbiRySTI/AAAAAAAAABo/jl0sPDGbTBc/s72-c/1122935165_uresimg080.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-personality.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYNQnw9eip7ImA9WxNbE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-1173461238461882432</id><published>2009-11-15T21:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-15T22:13:13.262Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-15T22:13:13.262Z</app:edited><title>9th Story : The Song</title><content type="html">I always listen to different songs everyday..&lt;br /&gt;Each songs depeds on my mood..&lt;br /&gt;and I usually listens to the same song everytime..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am happy,&lt;br /&gt;I like to listen to cheerful songs..&lt;br /&gt;Song that will remind me of my happiness..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am sad,&lt;br /&gt;I like to listen to painful song..&lt;br /&gt;Songs that will remind me of my sadness..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am excited,&lt;br /&gt;I like to listen to jumpy songs..&lt;br /&gt;Song that will remind me of my excitement..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I am feeling down or feel like quitting,&lt;br /&gt;I like to listen to inspiring songs..&lt;br /&gt;Songs that will make me forget..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or when I am hurt,&lt;br /&gt;I like to listen to love songs..&lt;br /&gt;Songs that will make feel loved again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, there is one particular song that I always listen to..&lt;br /&gt;No matter what mood I am in..&lt;br /&gt;Because it sooths my mind..&lt;br /&gt;Because my parents said its their song..&lt;br /&gt;and I want it to be my song as well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZxEazBfPVFg&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZxEazBfPVFg&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-1173461238461882432?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tnE79CQDRy_h1MLxYw6ysRmQk3A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tnE79CQDRy_h1MLxYw6ysRmQk3A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/s_Hr_0DVAeY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1173461238461882432/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=1173461238461882432&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1173461238461882432?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/1173461238461882432?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/s_Hr_0DVAeY/9th-story-song.html" title="9th Story : The Song" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/9th-story-song.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMRHo5fyp7ImA9WxNbEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-7637919548229746334</id><published>2009-11-12T21:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-12T21:31:25.427Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-12T21:31:25.427Z</app:edited><title>Memories ~</title><content type="html">I always choose my friends over anything..&lt;br /&gt;To me, friends are most important..&lt;br /&gt;I’ll even jump off a building for a friend -hypothetically speaking..&lt;br /&gt;But, all that was years ago..&lt;br /&gt;Before my friends betrayed my friendship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be good friends with a girl at school..&lt;br /&gt;We practically do everything with each other..&lt;br /&gt;Eat together, Go to class together, and Go out together..&lt;br /&gt;And we can talk about almost anything with each other..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, she got a boyfriend..&lt;br /&gt;I was more then thrilled for her..&lt;br /&gt;We spent hours just talking about her dates and such..&lt;br /&gt;Since I own a phone at that time,&lt;br /&gt;Her boyfriend started calling me to talk to her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, her boyfriend called me and wishes to talk to me..&lt;br /&gt;Because they had a fight..&lt;br /&gt;I talked to him trying to mend their relationship again..&lt;br /&gt;It was brief enough and they made up the next day..&lt;br /&gt;But starting that day..&lt;br /&gt;He always called me twice a day..&lt;br /&gt;Once to talk to my friend..&lt;br /&gt;And the other to talk to me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being naïve as I was at that time..&lt;br /&gt;I thought he was just being friendly towards his girlfriend’s friend..&lt;br /&gt;But within a month, my friend started crying every night..&lt;br /&gt;Saying that her boyfriend has changed..&lt;br /&gt;That her boyfriend is no longer in love with her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a good friend that I was,&lt;br /&gt;I talked to her boyfriend and try to help them with their relationship..&lt;br /&gt;But then, the next day, I got slapped by my own best friend..&lt;br /&gt;Just because her boyfriend fell in love with me..&lt;br /&gt;Accusing me of stealing her boyfriend from her..&lt;br /&gt;Flirting with her boyfriend without her knowing..&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know nothing of the situation at that time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very deeply hurt..&lt;br /&gt;And honestly, even now, I am still hurt..&lt;br /&gt;I lost a very good friend of mine..&lt;br /&gt;Just because of a worthless guy..&lt;br /&gt;That I have never seen, just talked to on the phone..&lt;br /&gt;And I am even more hurt..&lt;br /&gt;Because a friend I’ve known for so long..&lt;br /&gt;Would think so lowly of me..&lt;br /&gt;And broke our friendship just because of a guy that came into our life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, friendship is priceless..&lt;br /&gt;There is no price to it..&lt;br /&gt;No price to have it..&lt;br /&gt;And no price to give up on it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, my best friend ended our friendship it so easily..&lt;br /&gt;Because of such trivial matter..&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess, my friendship with her has a price to it after all..&lt;br /&gt;And it has such a small amount to it..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-7637919548229746334?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WR5hZYJm_JYZDvnnPxg9w_z6QU4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WR5hZYJm_JYZDvnnPxg9w_z6QU4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/Pzo01bax97Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7637919548229746334/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=7637919548229746334&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7637919548229746334?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/7637919548229746334?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/Pzo01bax97Y/memories.html" title="Memories ~" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/memories.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QMRn87fSp7ImA9WxNbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-2134603685396897036</id><published>2009-11-12T19:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:49:47.105Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-12T19:49:47.105Z</app:edited><title>8th Story : The Envy</title><content type="html">Someone once said to me :&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Be grateful with whatever you have no matter how little..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  some others may won't have any no matter how hard they try..&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think I may never be truly grateful with what I have..&lt;br /&gt;Envy being one of the 7 deadly sins that's making me less grateful each day..&lt;br /&gt;I am full of envy..&lt;br /&gt;and I am envious of too many things to count..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I envy those with lots of friends..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have friends but not many will I call real friends..&lt;br /&gt;I don't have friends that will go to great lengths for me..&lt;br /&gt;Most of my friends won't even care if I am in bed sick for a week..&lt;br /&gt;Some of them won't even notice I am missing..&lt;br /&gt;and some of my friends..&lt;br /&gt;will not even think twice to end their friendship with me..&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is my fault for I am never a great friend myself..&lt;br /&gt;but, I still envy those with friends that will do anything for them..&lt;br /&gt;Those with friends that care and cherish their friendship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I envy those who has the ability to study hard constantly..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never studied hard for anything in my life..&lt;br /&gt;Be it for the finals, or a very important exams that can determine my future..&lt;br /&gt;I will only read and learn what I want to know and leave everything not of my interest..&lt;br /&gt;and even when I do study, it was never constant..&lt;br /&gt;I will only study when I want and what I want..&lt;br /&gt;That's why I envy those who can study all the time..&lt;br /&gt;Those that doesn't feel like their life is wasted by studying..&lt;br /&gt;and those who enjoy their gain of knowledge..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I envy those who believe in themselves..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have forgotten the last time I did something..&lt;br /&gt;and I actually believe that is the best that I can do..&lt;br /&gt;Even after doing all that I can do..&lt;br /&gt;Whatever I did, I always feel that there is something missing..&lt;br /&gt;and whatever I did, I never felt I was good enough..&lt;br /&gt;That's why I envy those who believe their abilities..&lt;br /&gt;Those that feels satisfied when they tried their best..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;I envy those who simple-minded..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I care about everything that one can think of..&lt;br /&gt;I have trouble sleeping at night because I have too much to think..&lt;br /&gt;I hate listening to music much because it interrupts my thoughts on things..&lt;br /&gt;I just can help to to think and make my head keeps working..&lt;br /&gt;and It makes me so very tired..&lt;br /&gt;That's why I envy those who are simple-minded..&lt;br /&gt;Those who care for only things that's matters to them..&lt;br /&gt;and those who can sleep soundly at night..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need someone to just hit my head a few times..&lt;br /&gt;and make me stop being envious..&lt;br /&gt;This is obviously making me less and less happy everyday..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as Frank Tyger said :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" You can't be envious and happy at the same time.. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because, envy is the art of seeing other people's blessings instead of your own..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can see how am I blessed, I can never be happy..&lt;br /&gt;and to be happy, I have to get rid of my envy..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-2134603685396897036?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIjehWxmJ-8T80z97GlKYhMJal0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gIjehWxmJ-8T80z97GlKYhMJal0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/_Cs9_7U8Q78" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2134603685396897036/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=2134603685396897036&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/2134603685396897036?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/2134603685396897036?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/_Cs9_7U8Q78/8th-story-envy_12.html" title="8th Story : The Envy" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/8th-story-envy_12.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QGSXs7cCp7ImA9WxNbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-5010920311429268294</id><published>2009-11-05T06:09:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:48:48.508Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-12T19:48:48.508Z</app:edited><title>7th Story : The Torment</title><content type="html">There are times when I feel that nothing is right in my life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feeling sleepy after sleeping..&lt;br /&gt;being hungry after eating..&lt;br /&gt;feeling tired after resting..&lt;br /&gt;feeling bored after doing something fun..&lt;br /&gt;or..&lt;br /&gt;still hoping when the hope is gone..&lt;br /&gt;still waiting when there is nothing to wait for..&lt;br /&gt;still dreaming when I know its impossible..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I feel that I need to do something about everything..&lt;br /&gt;but I don't know where to start..&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes after doing everything I can,&lt;br /&gt;no outcomes is worth all the efforts I have put in..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living a life filled with such dissatisfaction is a torment..&lt;br /&gt;A life filled with misery..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wished for a lot of things in my life..&lt;br /&gt;but one wish that I never stop wishing for is..&lt;br /&gt;for my mind to be at peace..&lt;br /&gt;but that wish will never come true..&lt;br /&gt;not until I stop tormenting myself..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-5010920311429268294?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/os0s57eT-yF37URm2_R7zsd3QBI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/os0s57eT-yF37URm2_R7zsd3QBI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/FaNZf-Jeeok" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5010920311429268294/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=5010920311429268294&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5010920311429268294?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5010920311429268294?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/FaNZf-Jeeok/7th-story-torment.html" title="7th Story : The Torment" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/11/7th-story-torment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUHR3kyfip7ImA9WxNVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-5252141481728037675</id><published>2009-10-31T02:45:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T04:27:16.796Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-31T04:27:16.796Z</app:edited><title>6th Story : The Trust</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/Suu6d27O0hI/AAAAAAAAABg/vgnOQujXGJo/s1600-h/trust.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/Suu6d27O0hI/AAAAAAAAABg/vgnOQujXGJo/s320/trust.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398613600456593938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indquote_link"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A friend said to me : " I'll tell u when I really trust you and I don't trust people that easily. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What he said has kept me thinking very hard since then..&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't he trust me ?&lt;br /&gt;Did I do something that I cannot have his trust ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, I began to pounder..&lt;br /&gt;Have anyone ever trusted me and have I ever trusted anybody before ?&lt;br /&gt;Are there anyone who trust people easily ?&lt;br /&gt;Because I can't remember the last time I trusted anybody and was trusted by somebody..&lt;br /&gt;It must be a very hard and a burdening thing to be done..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, to trust somebody is..&lt;br /&gt;to entrust them with your deepest secret..&lt;br /&gt;to have faith that they will never hurt you..&lt;br /&gt;to know that they will always be there for you..&lt;br /&gt;to share your worst memories..&lt;br /&gt;to have faith that a friend will never lead you astray..&lt;br /&gt;to know that you can entrust them with your own life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, my whole life, I never have someone that I think I trust..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never..&lt;br /&gt;tell my deepest secret to anyone..&lt;br /&gt;think that people in my life will never hurt me..&lt;br /&gt;dream that anyone will always be there for me..&lt;br /&gt;share my worst memories with anyone..&lt;br /&gt;think that I will not be astrayed..&lt;br /&gt;known anyone that I can give my life to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even how close I am to anyone..&lt;br /&gt;be it my family, my best friend, my closest teachers..&lt;br /&gt;I have never truly and honestly trusted them..&lt;br /&gt;I kept everything to myself..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that all this time..&lt;br /&gt;I have always have a guard on..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~Never to be too close to someone..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Never to be too personal to someone..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Never to be too caring to someone..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Never to be too loving to someone..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Never to be much of anything to someone..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~Never to trust anyone..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, to never trust someone means,&lt;br /&gt;To never be hurt so much by someone,&lt;br /&gt;That I may even consider dying as an option to forget the pain..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank Crane once said :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indquote_link"&gt;~ You may be deceived if you trust too much,&lt;br /&gt;but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, is it possible for someone to trust the me that have never trusted anybody ?&lt;br /&gt;What should I do to have this trust in my heart ?&lt;br /&gt;To trust someone and to earn someones' trust..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can trust be developed with time ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so..&lt;br /&gt;Coz sometimes, we can trust a stranger, whom we knew for less than a day,&lt;br /&gt;more than our own family, whom we knew our whole life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can trust be developed with virtue ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so..&lt;br /&gt;Coz sometimes, even how nice we are to a person, we cannot gain their trust..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can trust be developed with a relationship ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think so..&lt;br /&gt;Coz even two persons with blood ties, an unbroken bond may never trust each other,&lt;br /&gt;what more of two persons with a fragile relation as friendship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can trust be developed with love ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so..&lt;br /&gt;Coz even when people say love is the strongest thing on earth,&lt;br /&gt;It cannot make trust each other even when they are in love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, how do we come to trust others and be trusted ?&lt;br /&gt;I really want to know what it feels to be trusted and to trust someone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indquote_link"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Here is a story about trust that I think have a very deep meaning to it :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl and her father were crossing a bridge.&lt;br /&gt;Then the father said,&lt;br /&gt;'Dear, do hold my hand so you won't fall into the river.'&lt;br /&gt;The girl replied,&lt;br /&gt;'No, Dad. You hold my hand.'&lt;br /&gt;'What's the difference?', asked the puzzled father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'There's a big difference,' replied the little girl.&lt;br /&gt;'If I hold your hand and I am to fall,&lt;br /&gt;I may let go of your hand.&lt;br /&gt;But if you hold my hand, I am sure that no matter what happens,&lt;br /&gt;you will never let my hand go.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ranjith Kumar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="indquote_link"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-5252141481728037675?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3NBCqKMNxoiyB6m2_mxTjTnFTw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3NBCqKMNxoiyB6m2_mxTjTnFTw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/-QLYnAOS-14" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5252141481728037675/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=5252141481728037675&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5252141481728037675?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5252141481728037675?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/-QLYnAOS-14/6th-story-trust.html" title="6th Story : The Trust" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/Suu6d27O0hI/AAAAAAAAABg/vgnOQujXGJo/s72-c/trust.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/6th-story-trust.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUFRHo6fip7ImA9WxNVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-5782883690251278631</id><published>2009-10-27T04:35:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T04:36:55.416Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-27T04:36:55.416Z</app:edited><title>5th Story : The Past</title><content type="html">What will you do when your past feelings start haunting you ?&lt;br /&gt;What will you do when someone you used to loved appears in your life again ?&lt;br /&gt;What will you do if you suddenly realize you never stop loving that person in the first place ?&lt;br /&gt;What will you do when our heart just cannot stop thinking of the past ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone..&lt;br /&gt;I never hope to meet..&lt;br /&gt;I never hope to see..&lt;br /&gt;I never hope to talk to..&lt;br /&gt;I never hope to know..&lt;br /&gt;and I never hope to remember..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appears in my life again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I do to get rid of all this unnecessary feelings..&lt;br /&gt;What should I do to make me stop remembering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/LU6DCYh6dC/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/LU6DCYh6dC/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox"&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;amp;ek=LU6DCYh6dC" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;amp;ek=LU6DCYh6dC" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;amp;ek=LU6DCYh6dC" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;amp;ek=LU6DCYh6dC" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/LU6DCYh6dC/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/artists/son_by_four/music/KF_U-PvT/son-by-4-purest-of-pain-a-puro-dolor/"&gt;Purest of Pain (A Puro Dolor) - Son By 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;the only song that fits what I am feeling now..&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/1126710934778020633-5782883690251278631?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3QAoFdqauweQLuYEc_2eFAKFdY8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3QAoFdqauweQLuYEc_2eFAKFdY8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/XoWou-1awHc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5782883690251278631/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=5782883690251278631&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5782883690251278631?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/5782883690251278631?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/XoWou-1awHc/5th-story-past_27.html" title="5th Story : The Past" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/5th-story-past_27.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMCQ389eSp7ImA9WxNVEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-343530973341909086</id><published>2009-10-21T03:28:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T01:24:22.161+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-23T01:24:22.161+01:00</app:edited><title>4th Story : The Smile</title><content type="html">Do you know what makes your heart smiles ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me..&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, something so simple can make my heart smiles happily..&lt;br /&gt;But my heart never smile that easily..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can be smiling ever so broadly and seems overwhelmingly happy when..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm in a party, chatting with people..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm with my family watching TV..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gossiping with my friends..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm eating a heart full of my favourite dishes..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm on a shopping spree with my BFF..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the times when..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My friends give me presents..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My date went well..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents praise me for being good..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My efforts are worth while..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when my results are good..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my heart is not smiling..&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think my heart is even crying because of my pretense..&lt;br /&gt;I always want my heart smile..&lt;br /&gt;but I can't seem to make my heart smile even at my happiest moments..&lt;br /&gt;It is hard for my heart to smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is really not that hard because..&lt;br /&gt;My heart can smile when..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I see the sky early in the morning and at dawn..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear the sound of night..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I smell the fresh scent of grass after the rain..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see my parents' faces when they are happy..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quarrel and make up with my siblings..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am cooking..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see my friends eating their heart out happily..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when, I can just stand in the rain and let all my worries be washed away..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, most of all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;My heart smiles its best when I manage to make the ones I love happy..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;and just by seeing others being happy because of me..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a simple story about the simplest thing that makes my heart smiles..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, I was very frustrated over something I heard..&lt;br /&gt;I tried everything I can to rid of the feelings..&lt;br /&gt;But nothing seems to work..&lt;br /&gt;Then, suddenly..&lt;br /&gt;A person came to me with no idea of what is going on with me&lt;br /&gt;and just said 'hye' with the most wonderful smile on his face..&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, my worries and frustration were gone..&lt;br /&gt;and my heart started smiling again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All because of a simple SMILE..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-343530973341909086?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UhSHGXjRqATgv2hoT5vuYHY4Hck/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UhSHGXjRqATgv2hoT5vuYHY4Hck/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/OGPp4URjxCw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/343530973341909086/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=343530973341909086&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/343530973341909086?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/343530973341909086?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/OGPp4URjxCw/4th-story-smile.html" title="4th Story : The Smile" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/4th-story-smile.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08GR3Yzeyp7ImA9WxNWGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-2879369513624762317</id><published>2009-10-17T02:25:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T02:30:26.883+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T02:30:26.883+01:00</app:edited><title>3rd Story : The Wait</title><content type="html">Being with someone is never easy..&lt;br /&gt;After being close to a person for more than 5 years,&lt;br /&gt;Certain expectations will emerge..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will expect him to know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what kind of flowers do I like..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; - what kind of cloths do I wear..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what am I fond of..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what am I afraid of..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what makes me happy..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what makes me sad..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- what makes me cry..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will expect that person to show..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- that I am needed in his life..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- that I am a part of his life..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- that I am important..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- that I mean something..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- that he cares about me..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know how does it feel to be needed by someone..&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel what its like to be a part of someones life..&lt;br /&gt;I want to know I am important for someone..&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel that I bring a meaning to someone..&lt;br /&gt;I want to know that someone cares for me..&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to notice and miss me when I am gone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too much tears have been flowing just because of my expectations..&lt;br /&gt;My heart has been torn apart too many times to count..&lt;br /&gt;I feel so insignificant, worthless and trivial..&lt;br /&gt;and worst of all, I feel so alone even when I have him by my side..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after 5 years,&lt;br /&gt;he still doesn't know what I feel..&lt;br /&gt;what I want in life..&lt;br /&gt;what I need from him..&lt;br /&gt;and he still can't show what he feels towards me..&lt;br /&gt;what he wants from me..&lt;br /&gt;what he needs from me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I wait for him for another 5 years ?&lt;br /&gt;Because honestly, I don't think my heart is that strong anymore..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-2879369513624762317?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t79wOjUtv-aqXkIqdSX2G2H9kZQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/t79wOjUtv-aqXkIqdSX2G2H9kZQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/pYJIc0ujsfc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2879369513624762317/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=2879369513624762317&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/2879369513624762317?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/2879369513624762317?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/pYJIc0ujsfc/3rd-story-wait.html" title="3rd Story : The Wait" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/3rd-story-wait.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcBRno9eip7ImA9WxNXFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-8148644023488914713</id><published>2009-10-01T03:39:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T00:14:17.462+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-05T00:14:17.462+01:00</app:edited><title>2nd Story : The Choice</title><content type="html">In my life, there are always choices to be made whether I want it or not..&lt;br /&gt;and most of the time, the decisions made change my life forever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is the best choice ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To pursue a dream that will make your life better in the future but be unhappy or a dream that will make you happy but with all the troubles in the world ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;choice&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;a dream that will make my life better in the future.. I'm unhappy with the road I'm taking but I'm living my life and hoping that, that better future will come true..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To go after the guy that you love but give you nothing in return or go after the guy that loves you and will give you all the happiness ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;choice&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;the guy that loves me with all his heart.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; deep down, I know that in my heart, there's someone else now, in the future, with all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; love he gave me, I hope I'll come to love him as much as he loves me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To please all those around me or make myself happy ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;choice&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;Making all those around me happy even how much it will hurt me.. I believe, one day, there will be a day that I'll be happy when I make others happy.. I'm still waiting..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made different choices everyday on different issues..&lt;br /&gt;I even made choices for others that I know is best for them..&lt;br /&gt;But the choices I made for myself, I never felt like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; are ever best for me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I always ask myself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just let loose and do what ever I feel like doing ?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just ignore what will people say about me ?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just wear what I want to wear and not think of all the staring ?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just say what I want without thinking of how people will feel about it ?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just stop lying  to myself about what I am ?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just be myself ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never be happy until I stop asking myself all this..&lt;br /&gt;Because each time any of these question pops inside my head,&lt;br /&gt;Tears starts pouring even without me noticing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long can I live a life with such regret in my heart for making these choices ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-8148644023488914713?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TgSwuD6p_ro7qPCgIwoCrPVUJMU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TgSwuD6p_ro7qPCgIwoCrPVUJMU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~4/Gc0ilF_R0-g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8148644023488914713/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1126710934778020633&amp;postID=8148644023488914713&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8148644023488914713?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1126710934778020633/posts/default/8148644023488914713?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kYeGy/~3/Gc0ilF_R0-g/choice.html" title="2nd Story : The Choice" /><author><name>ashz_ami</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13743651657787087526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tB7AMbovbn4/SsAGLfUMPzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OuIccfY9Vhg/S220/My+luv.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com/2009/10/choice.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUADSX07cCp7ImA9WxNXEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1126710934778020633.post-8898258675858099297</id><published>2009-09-28T01:08:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T01:29:38.308+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-28T01:29:38.308+01:00</app:edited><title>1st Story : The Heartbreak</title><content type="html">There is a guy.. and I truly love him…&lt;br /&gt;But he cant even see me even when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; right in front of him…&lt;br /&gt;I gave him all the love I have but He gave me all the hatred that he got..&lt;br /&gt;I love him wit my all but he has no space for me in his heart, not anymore…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; walking around, I want to see nobody… especially him…&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so much when I see him but is ignored totally..&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so much when I saw him smiling but not to me…&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so much when I see him laughing but not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bcoz&lt;/span&gt; of me…&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; any of his smiles n laughter anymore..&lt;br /&gt;I yearn to see him smile at me just one last time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember each moment we are together…&lt;br /&gt;When I can feel that he loves me…&lt;br /&gt;When I know that he wants me.. needs me in his life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; the same prayer every night.. The next time  I wake up from my sleep,&lt;br /&gt;please let me forget that I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; ever known him…&lt;br /&gt;please let me forget every memories we had…&lt;br /&gt;please let me forget every word he said…&lt;br /&gt;please let me forget every movement he made…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life would be much much easier if that prayer comes true..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Coz&lt;/span&gt; even without things that will make me remember him, he is still everywhere..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I did forget him… I enjoyed myself but I felt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; missing in me…&lt;br /&gt;Then, I found the missing piece before I went to sleep : Him…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even I pray each day that I’ll forget him, I know somewhere in my heart I can’t do so…&lt;br /&gt;I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; made him a promise that whatever happens, I’ll never regret knowing him…&lt;br /&gt;That’s the only promise that I’ll never break for knowing him is the best thing that has ever happen to me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has forgotten our memories…&lt;br /&gt;Soon, he’ll forget that he even known me..&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to keep remembering him.. and be haunted by memories with him forever…&lt;br /&gt;I’ll remember all the good things and get rid of the bad things…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what my heart said to me…&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be happy by forgetting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;But I’ll be happy by picking what I want to remember…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1126710934778020633-8898258675858099297?l=aisyahmlstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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