<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864</id><updated>2011-10-02T08:09:21.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>171</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1128302072265686164</id><published>2011-06-15T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T04:17:38.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;"If I Die Young"&lt;br /&gt;The Band Perry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I die young, bury me in satin&lt;br /&gt;Lay me down on a, bed of roses&lt;br /&gt;Sink me in the river, at dawn&lt;br /&gt;Send me away with the words of a love song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh, uh oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother&lt;br /&gt;She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and&lt;br /&gt;Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no&lt;br /&gt;Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sharp knife of a short life, well&lt;br /&gt;I've had, just enough time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I die young, bury me in satin&lt;br /&gt;Lay me down on a, bed of roses&lt;br /&gt;Sink me in the river, at dawn&lt;br /&gt;Send me away with the words of a love song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sharp knife of a short life, well&lt;br /&gt;I've had, just enough time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom&lt;br /&gt;I'm as green as the ring on my little, cold finger, I've&lt;br /&gt;Never known the lovin' of a man&lt;br /&gt;But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there's a&lt;br /&gt;Boy here in town who says he'll love me forever,&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought forever could be severed by&lt;br /&gt;The sharp knife of a short life, well,&lt;br /&gt;I've had, just enough time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls&lt;br /&gt;What I never did is done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar&lt;br /&gt;They're worth so much more after I'm a goner&lt;br /&gt;And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'&lt;br /&gt;Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I die young, bury me in satin&lt;br /&gt;Lay me down on a, bed of roses&lt;br /&gt;Sink me in the river, at dawn&lt;br /&gt;Send me away with the words of a love song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh (uh, oh)&lt;br /&gt;The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)&lt;br /&gt;Go with peace and love&lt;br /&gt;Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket&lt;br /&gt;Save them for a time when you're really gonna need them, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sharp knife of a short life, well&lt;br /&gt;I've had, just enough time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1128302072265686164?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1128302072265686164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1128302072265686164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1128302072265686164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1128302072265686164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/06/if-i-die-young-band-perry-if-i-die.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-855404426973495047</id><published>2011-05-22T04:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T04:27:53.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Tongue-tied speechless&lt;br /&gt;it's all tangled up inside&lt;br /&gt;trapped within my mind&lt;br /&gt;i'll stumble and freak out&lt;br /&gt;bound to hit the wall&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure to trip and fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a twisted web of words&lt;br /&gt;i'll try to make it work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you gotta read beteen the line&lt;br /&gt;As i'm pouring out my soul&lt;br /&gt;look into my eyes and you'll know&lt;br /&gt;'coz words can't describe&lt;br /&gt;what i'm feeling deep inside&lt;br /&gt;i gotta hope you feel the spark&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiet silence&lt;br /&gt;tryin' to find a way&lt;br /&gt;the things i'll never say&lt;br /&gt;i'll try to slow down&lt;br /&gt;and speak up&lt;br /&gt;but words would never help&lt;br /&gt;i'm a victim of myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a twisted web of words&lt;br /&gt;i'll try to make it work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you gotta read beteen the line&lt;br /&gt;As i'm pouring out my soul&lt;br /&gt;[. From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/a/aaliah-micheala-lyrics/letter-to-your-heart-lyrics.html .]&lt;br /&gt;look into my eyes and you'll know&lt;br /&gt;'coz words can't describe&lt;br /&gt;what i'm feeling deep inside&lt;br /&gt;i gotta hope you feel the spark&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fell the beating in my chest&lt;br /&gt;hoping you can hear the rest&lt;br /&gt;of what my heart is shouting to the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you gotta read beteen the line&lt;br /&gt;As i'm pouring out my soul&lt;br /&gt;look into my eyes and you'll know&lt;br /&gt;'coz words can't describe&lt;br /&gt;what i'm feeling deep inside&lt;br /&gt;i gotta hope you feel the spark&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;in my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;(can't write this down)&lt;br /&gt;(can't write it down)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooh ooh&lt;br /&gt;this is my letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;letter to your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-855404426973495047?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/855404426973495047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=855404426973495047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/855404426973495047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/855404426973495047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/05/tongue-tied-speechless-its-all-tangled.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2183744125808162724</id><published>2011-05-20T00:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T00:56:49.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some people just irritate the shit out of me.&lt;br /&gt;It is not because I get angry over the slightest things nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;It’s not because I’m super stressed over things.&lt;br /&gt;And no it’s not because I am very, very sick and my health is really bad.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it’s because some people are just so sensitive. Please sense my sarcasm here.&lt;br /&gt;I feel damn fucked up and messed up and isn’t it mean that what people say or do makes someone feel that way?&lt;br /&gt;I would never do anything that would make someone feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;But isn’t it weird that I call them my friends?&lt;br /&gt;No matter how sweet they can be, and friendly they can be, that is just mean. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2183744125808162724?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2183744125808162724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2183744125808162724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2183744125808162724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2183744125808162724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/05/some-people-just-irritate-shit-out-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1751780181073096180</id><published>2011-05-01T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T05:42:20.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663300;"&gt;Fucking irritated.&lt;br /&gt;By everyone.&lt;br /&gt;By people who scold for no reason.&lt;br /&gt;By people who bitch for no reason.&lt;br /&gt;By people who give you unconditional love only to disappear.&lt;br /&gt;By people who don’t give a damn about how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;By people who hurt you though they love you.&lt;br /&gt;It’s just plain oh so fucking annoying, okay?&lt;br /&gt;I’m not a piece of tool to vent your anger on.&lt;br /&gt;Nor am I an object to be kicked around.&lt;br /&gt;And I certainly don’t think I am fool.&lt;br /&gt;So just fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;What hurts the most is they’re family.&lt;br /&gt;You are family.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you understand the meaning of being sensitive? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1751780181073096180?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1751780181073096180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1751780181073096180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1751780181073096180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1751780181073096180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/05/fucking-irritated.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-46337708873972682</id><published>2011-04-24T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T00:14:49.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;I’m not sure how to describe this feeling. The overwhelming urge to keep smiling. The constant movement of butterflies in my stomach. The depressing thoughts of depression that are building up in my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;I wonder if he noticed my shy smile when he hugged me goodbye. He hugged me, for the first time. It felt so warm and everything around me went out of focus. I just wanted to stay there, locked in his embrace and tell him that I wanted much more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;It felt surreal, like I was dreaming. The whole day I mean. I couldn’t help but stare at his long lashes, crooked nose, and his hand on mine when he taught me how to fly a kite. Oh, I miss him so much already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m too young to fall in love, I know. But I’m not in love. I just have a huge, the size of a gazillion elephants, crush on a too tall, too skinny Indian guy who looks like a cockroach, apparently, and has no idea how much this random girl in his life likes him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;How I wish he could just read my mind. Or maybe, if I was a hot chick, he would have already asked me out. Maybe, just maybe. Let’s just hope and pray he’s not that naive or shallow minded. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;Should I just tell him I like him? What if he stops talking to me after that? I’d rather lose a crush than a friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;Oh well. Shit happens, life goes on and then, you die. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-46337708873972682?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/46337708873972682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=46337708873972682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/46337708873972682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/46337708873972682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-not-sure-how-to-describe-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1973024890713142881</id><published>2011-03-23T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T04:38:34.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Dads Poem.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering those no longer with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hair was up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow.&lt;br /&gt;Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home.&lt;br /&gt;Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say.&lt;br /&gt;What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone.&lt;br /&gt;And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all.&lt;br /&gt;About a dad she never sees a dad who never calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet.&lt;br /&gt;Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one the teacher called a student from the class.&lt;br /&gt;To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare.&lt;br /&gt;Each of them was searching, a man who wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's her daddy at?" she heard a boy call out.&lt;br /&gt;"She probably doesn't have one," another student dared to shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say,&lt;br /&gt;"Looks like another&lt;br /&gt;deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her Mom.&lt;br /&gt;And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on.&lt;br /&gt;And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak.&lt;br /&gt;And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away.&lt;br /&gt;But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day.&lt;br /&gt;And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know.&lt;br /&gt;All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved to tell me stories.&lt;br /&gt;He taught me to ride my bike.&lt;br /&gt;He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone.&lt;br /&gt;And though you cannot see him.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not standing here alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart&lt;br /&gt;I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears.&lt;br /&gt;Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life.&lt;br /&gt;Doing what was best for her, doing what was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star.&lt;br /&gt;And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far.&lt;br /&gt;You see he was a policeman and died just this past year.&lt;br /&gt;When airplanes hit the towers and taught Americans to fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away."&lt;br /&gt;And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day.&lt;br /&gt;And to her mothers amazement, she witnessed with surprise.&lt;br /&gt;A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side.&lt;br /&gt;"I know you're with me Daddy," to the silence she called out.&lt;br /&gt;And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been&lt;br /&gt;closed.&lt;br /&gt;But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining&lt;br /&gt;star.&lt;br /&gt;And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate&lt;br /&gt;them,&lt;br /&gt;a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1973024890713142881?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1973024890713142881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1973024890713142881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1973024890713142881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1973024890713142881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/03/dads-poem.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5303299070564382166</id><published>2011-03-21T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T22:33:25.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That’s it. This is it. I am not going to let a crush take over my life.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so miserable, like there is no purpose in life. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;All I do is sit around, whining and complaining about why my life has to be so unfair.&lt;br /&gt;And the only reason for this is him. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because he doesn’t know.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t know that I miss him so much.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t know that I think of him every day.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t know that I force myself not to text him all the time.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn’t know that I really want to tell him how I feel towards him but hold back my words for fear of rejection. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He doesn’t know that I feel horrible and terrible because I know he doesn’t notice.&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part is that he doesn’t know that he is making me fall for him deeper and deeper by his actions and words. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By the way he talks.&lt;br /&gt;By the way he looks at me, maintains an eye connection before looking away.&lt;br /&gt;And though he looks like a Somalia kid who has malnutrition and talks like as if he rules the world, I still do like him and I don’t have the slightest idea why. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And it is annoying and disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so ashamed that I can’t even control a crush. A huge crush.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so helpless.&lt;br /&gt;I’m not stalking him or am obsessed over him but I just can’t help but grin when anyone mentions him. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it wrong? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh just shut up Kanages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5303299070564382166?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5303299070564382166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5303299070564382166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5303299070564382166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5303299070564382166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/03/thats-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1882806738032733058</id><published>2011-03-06T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T05:25:23.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663300;"&gt;‎'When you lose someone you love, you gain an angel that you know.'&lt;br /&gt;In less than three hours, it'd be 9 months since I last saw you or heard your voice. But your presence has always been here with me Appa, and though I'm so angry that you are not going to watch Bala and I on stage, I still love you and I miss you so much. So much, that sometimes, I just cant handle it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1882806738032733058?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1882806738032733058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1882806738032733058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1882806738032733058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1882806738032733058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/03/when-you-lose-someone-you-love-you-gain.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2559416662826187815</id><published>2011-03-06T04:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T05:19:33.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;Well well well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been too long. And way too many things have been happening in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, I have been diagnosed with hypothyroidism.&lt;br /&gt;Hypothyroidism is a condition in which the thyroid gland does not make enough thyroid hormone.The thyroid gland is located in the front of the neck just below the voice box (larynx). It releases hormones that control metabolism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early symptoms:&lt;br /&gt;• Being more sensitive to cold&lt;br /&gt;• Constipation&lt;br /&gt;• Depression&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;• Fatigue or feeling slowed down&lt;br /&gt;• Heavier menstrual periods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;• Joint or muscle pain&lt;br /&gt;• Paleness or dry skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;• Thin, brittle hair or fingernails&lt;br /&gt;• Weakness&lt;br /&gt;• Weight gain (unintentional)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The symptoms in &lt;strong&gt;bold&lt;/strong&gt; are what I have been going through since the start of the year. I have to take medication and it is tiring, to keep up with everything. I’m not anywhere near the danger zone but I need to go for a blood test every three months. That is like 4 times a year, for as long as I live. It is so irritating because I never asked for it. And I don’t think I deserve it at all. I mean, all I want is for people to be happy and safe and God decides to make me fall sick? That’s sickening but I choose to think of it as a challenge. After all, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? I don’t care, seriously. As long as I don’t die before achieving all the things I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, &lt;strong&gt;Peterpan Revamped&lt;/strong&gt; is this week! Woohooooo! I can’t wait for Thursday to arrive and rock the stage with awesome people. I’m going to miss them, really. And I’m so joining AFT. I’ve gone through too much of madness with them to stop and be sane for even a moment. I’m just so sad that Appa won’t be here to watch both me and Bala perform on one big stage. And I’m so proud of Bala. Though he can be such a pesky little brat most of the time, he has learnt to grow up. Atleast a little. Oh and isn’t awesome that both my best friends can’t make it? Oh well, I still love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, this guy I had a tiny winy (Who am I kidding?)&lt;strong&gt; crush&lt;/strong&gt; on, he is dating this girl who is very nice and sweet. As much as I wish I was her, I wish them luck. I’m not saying this because I want him to be happy, that would be so ridiculous. I’m saying this because it would have happened if it was meant to be. But no, it didn’t. So let’s just hope and pray that God has something better for me. So Dear God, you better have something good planned for me. If not…&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I miss Appa and I &lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/strong&gt; my family a lot. So much that I would die for them. Serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There is nothing in life more painful than losing a loved one,&lt;br /&gt;the love is there forever though,&lt;br /&gt;we never really lose them only from the physical plane,&lt;br /&gt;because where love exists there can be no loss.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥Kanages&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2559416662826187815?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2559416662826187815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2559416662826187815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2559416662826187815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2559416662826187815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/03/well-well-well.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4238701720461005415</id><published>2011-01-27T06:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T06:09:47.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#660000;"&gt;Alone.&lt;br /&gt;I have never felt more alone in my life than now.&lt;br /&gt;I feel weird, like the whole world’s turning its back on me.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;But I know a lot of people love me and they’ll do anything for me.&lt;br /&gt;It will all pass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4238701720461005415?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4238701720461005415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4238701720461005415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4238701720461005415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4238701720461005415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/01/alone.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6464823048420304319</id><published>2011-01-22T09:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T09:55:58.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#660000;"&gt;A guy out there was meant to be the love of your life, your best friend, your soul mate, the one you can tell your dreams to. He'll smile at you, but he'll never laugh at your heart. He'll brush the hair out of your eyes. Send you flowers when you least expect it. He'll stare at you during the movies, even though he paid $8 to see it. He'll call to say goodnight or just cause he is thinking of you. He'll look in your eyes and tell you, you're the most beautiful girl in the world, and for the first time in your life, you'll believe it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#660000;"&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6464823048420304319?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6464823048420304319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6464823048420304319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6464823048420304319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6464823048420304319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/01/guy-out-there-was-meant-to-be-love-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7634156473757903076</id><published>2011-01-04T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T17:40:27.861-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny pick up lines. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;A song from your lips is an aria from heaven.&lt;br /&gt;Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?&lt;br /&gt;Are you a parking&lt;br /&gt;ticket? (What?) You got fine written all over you.&lt;br /&gt;Are you tamale?&lt;br /&gt;'Cause&lt;br /&gt;you're hot.&lt;br /&gt;As she's leaving....Hey aren't you forgetting&lt;br /&gt;something? She:&lt;br /&gt;What? Me!&lt;br /&gt;Baby did you fart, 'cause you blow me away!&lt;br /&gt;Baby, if you were&lt;br /&gt;words on a page, you'd be what they call fine print&lt;br /&gt;Baby, somebody better&lt;br /&gt;call God, because he's missing an angel!&lt;br /&gt;Baby,&lt;br /&gt;you must be a broom, because&lt;br /&gt;you just swept me off my feet.&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you're&lt;br /&gt;so sweet, you put Hershey's out&lt;br /&gt;of business.&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you're the next&lt;br /&gt;contestant in the game of love.&lt;br /&gt;Can I&lt;br /&gt;get your picture to prove to all&lt;br /&gt;my friends that angels really do exist?&lt;br /&gt;Can&lt;br /&gt;I have directions? ["To&lt;br /&gt;where?"] To your heart.&lt;br /&gt;Champaign can be tickly, and&lt;br /&gt;so can I.&lt;br /&gt;(Close hand with nothing inside and give it to her) It's my breath&lt;br /&gt;from&lt;br /&gt;when you took it away (open palm while saying this).&lt;br /&gt;Coffee? Tea? Me?&lt;br /&gt;Damn, if being sexy was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!&lt;br /&gt;Did the sun&lt;br /&gt;come out or did you just smile at me?&lt;br /&gt;Did you have Campbell's soup&lt;br /&gt;today?&lt;br /&gt;Because you're looking' mmm... mmm... good!&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in&lt;br /&gt;love at first&lt;br /&gt;sight, or should I walk by again?&lt;br /&gt;My name is ____.&lt;br /&gt;Remember it, because&lt;br /&gt;you’ll be screaming it later.&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear the&lt;br /&gt;latest health report? You&lt;br /&gt;need to up your daily intake of vitamin ‘me’.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t walk into that building&lt;br /&gt;— the sprinklers might go off!&lt;br /&gt;You’ve&lt;br /&gt;been a bad girl. Go to my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7634156473757903076?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7634156473757903076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7634156473757903076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7634156473757903076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7634156473757903076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/01/funny-pick-up-lines.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6563931288046404505</id><published>2011-01-01T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T06:27:56.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Harry Potter&lt;br /&gt;Quotes!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The two men appeared out&lt;br /&gt;of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they&lt;br /&gt;stood quite still, wands pointing at each other's chests: then, recognizing each&lt;br /&gt;other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and set off, side by side,&lt;br /&gt;in the same direction.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where your treasure is,&lt;br /&gt;there will your heart be also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU&lt;br /&gt;BITCH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We did it, we bashed them,&lt;br /&gt;wee Potter's the one, and Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To the well-organized&lt;br /&gt;mind, death is but the next great adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It does not do to dwell on&lt;br /&gt;dreams and forget to live. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The truth is a beautiful&lt;br /&gt;and terrible thing, and should &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;therefore be treated with caution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It takes a great deal of&lt;br /&gt;bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As much money and life as&lt;br /&gt;you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the&lt;br /&gt;trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are&lt;br /&gt;worst for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There is no good or evil:&lt;br /&gt;only power and those too weak to seek it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ah, music. A magic beyond&lt;br /&gt;all we do here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fear of a name increases&lt;br /&gt;fear of the thing itself.&lt;br /&gt;There are some things you can't share without&lt;br /&gt;ending up liking each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hearing voices no one else&lt;br /&gt;can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is our choices...that&lt;br /&gt;show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Never trust anything that&lt;br /&gt;can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The best of us must&lt;br /&gt;sometimes eat our words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The dementors affect you&lt;br /&gt;worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that others don't&lt;br /&gt;have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You can exist without your&lt;br /&gt;soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll&lt;br /&gt;have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no....anything. There's no chance at&lt;br /&gt;all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The consequences of our&lt;br /&gt;actions are so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very&lt;br /&gt;difficult business indeed. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6563931288046404505?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6563931288046404505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6563931288046404505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6563931288046404505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6563931288046404505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2011/01/harry-potter-quotes-two-men-appeared.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2207961769876849240</id><published>2010-12-31T09:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T09:32:36.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;01012011.&lt;br /&gt;My first post for the year 2011.&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to sing and dance on stage this year.&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to learn classical music this year.&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to lose weight this year.&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to love and laugh like crazy and live like there’s no tomorrow this year.&lt;br /&gt;I’m not going to regret this year. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2207961769876849240?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2207961769876849240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2207961769876849240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2207961769876849240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2207961769876849240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/12/01012011.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-20759083583980286</id><published>2010-12-29T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T04:23:31.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;My last blog post for the year 2011. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;January&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my O level results on the eleventh. It was a tough time, making decisions that would change my life. But I did, and that was the best decision in my life.&lt;br /&gt;It was my first step to teaching. I’ll never forget my first students. A naughty bunch of lower primary kids who never failed to make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;I also went for an external drama audition, and that is another decision I’ll never regret taking.&lt;br /&gt;I also started going on Omegle, a decision I regret, even now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;February&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I got selected to be TigerLily. One of the major achievements in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Helped out my mom in the canteen. Though I never really got paid, I grew closer to my mom and sharing her workload made me realise how hard she works.&lt;br /&gt;I took another tuition assignment and it was the start of another conflict between my mom and dad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;March&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It was confirmed, I was going to Singapore Polytechnic’s School of Communication, Arts and Social Sciences. I was going to pursue the course of my dreams. I was thrilled, still am.&lt;br /&gt;This was the time I became immersed in singing. I was also supposed to enter a singing competition but decided against it. I wanted to be more experienced in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started school and have been loving it ever since. I found a new part in me and also realised that it was the real part of me. Which didn’t hide, or conceal itself. And I loved it. I found the sweetest friends who I would never want to lose.&lt;br /&gt;Life was good and as usual, my dad had to come and spoil things for me. He got arrested for not paying his traffic summons and fines. It was embarrassing. My mom betrayed me by pawning the only jewellery she had for him, to bail him out. I hated him to the core.&lt;br /&gt;Jai also came into my life once again. He’s a lost cause and I don’t want to talk about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;May&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May whizzed past with midterm tests and confusing lectures. After a long time, I had the will and strength to focus and stress over school, rather than anything serious. I liked that feeling, to be free of major responsibilities and to finally act my age. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;June&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I turned sweet 17.&lt;br /&gt;I got roses from three lovely people. I realised that people love me. And I mean something to them.&lt;br /&gt;We went on a family trip to Batam. It was a miracle my dad could make it. I had a lot of fun, a lot of happy memories. My dad was finally closer to us. He had finally seen that family is important. I started to love him again. We went Clarke Quay as well. It was fun, especially with three handsome Caucasians checking me out. I’ll never forget those drunken men.&lt;br /&gt;I also joined CASS Idol, another lost cause. I was so excited for it. I wanted to show people I was talented too, so badly.&lt;br /&gt;It was also the time I wanted a boyfriend so badly and when I found myself a crush, once again, another lost cause. I have no idea why I even fell for him. Maybe it was because he was such a good flirt; I have always been a sucker for flirts. Maybe because he always complimented me. Maybe because I was crazy over his brown eyes. Anyways, I’m so over him. Okay, I’m lying. But I’ll never stand a chance with him, not after what he did.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, Michael Jackson died. And dad actually cried. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;July&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It started off fine. I was really excited for the CASS Idol auditions. I was finally going to do what I wanted to do.&lt;br /&gt;And then 07th of July came and my world came crashing. My dad died, just like that. It feels like just yesterday that I had gotten him Seven up and we had talked about football, talking is something we rarely did but the next day, he was gone and it has been 6 moths already. Can you even believe it? I still cannot. Everything has slipped by in a haze since then. I’m not sure when I’ll stop missing him. but I did learn one thing. I have the sweetest friends you can ever find on earth. That includes my primary and secondary school mates. My poly friends. And the people from Arteen Furteens. I felt so loved and I appreciate all your love.&lt;br /&gt;The month went by with people dropping in, crying with us, and I learnt that no matter how much you grow to hate a person, if you had once loved him, you’ll always love him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;August&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;He’s one month death anniversary came on his birthday. It was nightmarish.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t that bad but it was bad alright?&lt;br /&gt;And we had community chest. I still can’t believe we won. I was so happy. The best thing to happen to me in ages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;September&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two important dates.&lt;br /&gt;15th: Parents’ 26th Wedding anniversary. My mom stoned the whole day. My sis had to get her roses to make her cry. Traumatising, it was.&lt;br /&gt;21st: Bala’s 12th Birthday. We had a mini celebration. We just couldn’t make him forsake his last year as a child for my dad’s death. He’s just a child.&lt;br /&gt;I also had communication problems with my sister. They were bad but we came over it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;October&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took up another tuition assignment.&lt;br /&gt;Got straight B’s for exams.&lt;br /&gt;Started a brand new semester.&lt;br /&gt;Fell in love on the last day of the month. Crazy as it may sound; I was head over heels over that guy. He does know that I exist but I bet he doesn’t have such feelings for me whatsoever. That’s alright, I’m fine now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;November&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Deepavali was a disaster. I cried the whole day, really.&lt;br /&gt;Bala got his PSLE results, they weren’t spectacular but he did his best. After everything that he had to go through, I feel so proud of him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;December&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Important dates:&lt;br /&gt;9th: Akka’s 25th Birthday. I tried my very best to make her happy, and she was, thank god for that. Her friends did an awesome job.&lt;br /&gt;13th and 14th: VPDP Filming. Had loads of fun and even got screamed at. I had a really good time with my team.&lt;br /&gt;15th-18th: Phuket! I’m in love with that place. No school, no work, no financial problems, no lack of handsome men. I’m migrate to Phuket, anytime now.&lt;br /&gt;25th: Christmas! It was weird without dad. But I overcame all feelings and enjoyed myself. Watched Gulliver’s Travel and that is one of the many reasons I want to travel all around the world. To find mythical creatures like myself.&lt;br /&gt;I could smile without effort after months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, 2010 has been a good lesson for me. It made me treasure life, love more and hate less.&lt;br /&gt;It also taught me that life can be an insensitive bitch but Karma would never let you down.&lt;br /&gt;I learnt to differentiate the evil fox from the harmless, loving people who actually do care.&lt;br /&gt;In short, I love you all and have a fantastic 2011! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-20759083583980286?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/20759083583980286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=20759083583980286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/20759083583980286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/20759083583980286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-last-blog-post-for-year-2011.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7391912353706248444</id><published>2010-12-05T03:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T03:34:05.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;“Acting is a question of absorbing other people's personalities and adding some of your own experience”.&lt;br /&gt;-Jean-Paul Sartre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;So each and every one of our character needs to have an essence of ourselves. It is not merely acting that role but becoming it. It is not only about Peterpan, a musical. It is about us. It is not about being part of a production but owning it. And I feel that we all have been doing this role perfectly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;Time sure flies. In a month, it’ll be a year since I got to know all of you. Since something exciting started happening in my life. Since I gained an extra large family. My life feels more complete with this musical. Peterpan has been an exciting journey in my life. Working with extremely talented and sweet people has taught me a lot and I feel gifted to have gained such awesome friends. I always feel a sense of pride and thrill when I mention you guys at home or at school or when I explain to my tuition kid’s mom that I can’t go for tuition on Saturdays because I have rehearsals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;We have come this far guys. Only a little bit more and we can start talking about out next production. ;) And during days where you feel lazy to come for rehearsals or you think you have a valid reason to skip, think about the reason as to why you joined this musical in the first place and what you are getting out of it. I joined this musical to fulfil my passion of acting but I have gotten much more than that. I have the opportunity to act with even more gifted people who have the same love as me for acting. Who can make me laugh and smile all day long. Who can just make my day for no apparent reason. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;I know that we are going to do an awesome job next March. I just know it and I can’t wait for that day to come. (: And I’m sure we’ll make it through because this is after all, what we love.&lt;br /&gt;And I love you guys so much. Each and every one of you. We may not hang out much or talk to one another much but I still love you guys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;♥Your most awesomest Tiger Lily aka Kanages &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7391912353706248444?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7391912353706248444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7391912353706248444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7391912353706248444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7391912353706248444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/12/acting-is-question-of-absorbing-other.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7089048769069099856</id><published>2010-12-01T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T17:04:00.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You were born to make people laugh.&lt;br /&gt;You love to be the center of attention and you aren't afraid to look a little silly doing it. People generally like you because you're so fun and adventurous. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7089048769069099856?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7089048769069099856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7089048769069099856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7089048769069099856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7089048769069099856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-were-born-to-make-people-laugh.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-675817590881029738</id><published>2010-11-29T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T16:47:22.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;What kind of guy will fall for you??&lt;br /&gt;Kanageswari got The Thoughtfully Cute guy.&lt;br /&gt;The guy that when you get home from work will have made dinner because you had to work today, or brings you flowers on wednesday just because he wanted to make the rest of the week better. He's the guy who when you wake up will be watching you sleep because you were just too beautiful to wake. This guy is a keeper keep him close and never let him go, you will be glad for him when your in labor and he looks at you all sweaty, makeup running while your cursing him and says look at her she so beautiful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;I want I want I want! ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-675817590881029738?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/675817590881029738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=675817590881029738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/675817590881029738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/675817590881029738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-kind-of-guy-will-fall-for-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6592069755934860499</id><published>2010-11-27T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T23:14:48.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Enchanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;By: Taylor Swift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Here I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles&lt;br /&gt;Same old tired, lonely place&lt;br /&gt;Walls of insincerity&lt;br /&gt;Shifiting eyes and vancancy vanished when I saw your face&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes whispered "have we met?"&lt;br /&gt;Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me&lt;br /&gt;The playful conversation starts&lt;br /&gt;Counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy&lt;br /&gt;And it was enchanting to meet you&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This night is sparkling, don't you let it go&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend forever wondering if you knew&lt;br /&gt;I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lingering question kept me up&lt;br /&gt;2am, who do you love?&lt;br /&gt;I wonder till I'm wide awake&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door&lt;br /&gt;I'd open up and you would say,&lt;br /&gt;It was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;All I know is I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This night is sparkling, don't you let it go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend forever wondering if you knew&lt;br /&gt;This night is flawless, don't you let it go&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend forever wondering if you knew&lt;br /&gt;I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me praying that this was the very first page&lt;br /&gt;Not where the story line ends&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again&lt;br /&gt;These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon&lt;br /&gt;I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;Please don't be in love with someone else&lt;br /&gt;Please don't have somebody waiting on you&lt;br /&gt;Please don't be in love with someone else&lt;br /&gt;Please don't have somebody waiting on you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This night is sparkling, don't you let it go&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend forever wondering if you knew&lt;br /&gt;This night is flawless, don't you let it go&lt;br /&gt;I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend forever wondering if you knew&lt;br /&gt;I was enchanted to meet you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't be in love with someone else&lt;br /&gt;Please don't have somebody waiting on you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6592069755934860499?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6592069755934860499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6592069755934860499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6592069755934860499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6592069755934860499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/enchanted-by-taylor-swift-here-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1682831170129580078</id><published>2010-11-26T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T01:24:40.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Out of all the faults in the world, you have to find fault in that? In something I wouldn’t do? I said I was sorry and is it my fault that you take everything so seriously? You have changed a lot and I miss you though I see you every single day. Maybe I'm the one at fault but still. Why must it always be you or him? Why can’t it be me for once?&lt;br /&gt;You know, I could be out with my friends, spending money and all. Or go clubbing secretly. Get a boy friend, get pregnant. Sniff glue, do drugs. I could all of that but I don’t because I don’t want to fucking disappoint you. To think I actually pleaded with them to understand you better. But no, I’m the bad guy here. You’re the one who is the victim, whom everyone pities. Same goes for him. And me? I am just the one who has to go to school, come back home, go for tuition, do fucking housework. No one fucking cares about me. I feel like I’m adopted or something.&lt;br /&gt;I’m just so sick and tired of all this crap. I never get respected at all. It’s like I have no feeling, like I’m a robot. It is fucking irritating. I just want to run away. You never think about all the time I had cried for you. No, you just take into offence what I said. Which I didn’t even mean. It was supposed to be a joke damn it. If it’s so fucking difficult, then I’ll just keep my mouth shut for good. I just don’t fucking understand. Don’t I look like I have feelings? Like I feel anger too? No, you see it as arguing. And you keep saying you’re older. So? What significance does it hold? You know I love you and I do respect you so what’s the fucking problem.&lt;br /&gt;You know I wouldn’t ne this pissed if it was even her. Because you’re closer. So how can you get offended like that? You know I didn’t mean it. Seriously, I just feel like fucking dying. You all will be better off without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1682831170129580078?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1682831170129580078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1682831170129580078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1682831170129580078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1682831170129580078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/out-of-all-faults-in-world-you-have-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8805633344729245542</id><published>2010-11-23T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T06:17:01.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;When you're gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;By: Avril Lavigne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;I always needed time on my own&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd need you there when I cry&lt;br /&gt;And the days feel like years when I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;And the bed where you lie is made up on your side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt this way before&lt;br /&gt;Everything that I do reminds me of you&lt;br /&gt;And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor&lt;br /&gt;And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were made for each other&lt;br /&gt;Out here forever&lt;br /&gt;I know we were, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I ever wanted was for you to know&lt;br /&gt;Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;All the words I need to hear will always get me through&lt;br /&gt;The day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Listening to this song made me realise what my mother feels. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8805633344729245542?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8805633344729245542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8805633344729245542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8805633344729245542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8805633344729245542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-youre-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9038112968554979659</id><published>2010-11-09T22:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T22:10:37.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I saw Joanne blogging and now I’m tempted to blog as well.&lt;br /&gt;I want to talk Miss Trudy. She is so absolutely sweet.&lt;br /&gt;I think she has become closer to us and only because she has done her homework.&lt;br /&gt;I mean I’m sure it was hard for her to get along with us at first but she tried.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of complaining like some people.&lt;br /&gt;I ♥ MISS TRUDY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9038112968554979659?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9038112968554979659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9038112968554979659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9038112968554979659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9038112968554979659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-saw-joanne-blogging-and-now-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5135370436160482729</id><published>2010-11-04T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T06:17:01.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;This is depressing.&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be the first Deepavali without my dad.&lt;br /&gt;I still cannot believe he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;I know everyone is talking about moving on but seriously, you have no idea how difficult it is.&lt;br /&gt;I have come to the point where I cant even cry anymore because the pain is too much, I feel numb.&lt;br /&gt;I feel this silly, sick sensation in the pit of my stomach and it slowly and painfully moves up to my heart and then my throat and it chokes me and paralyses me until I feel like screaming. It shakes me so much that I just feel like collapsing.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad.&lt;br /&gt;Why, seriously,why?&lt;br /&gt;Why did he have to go?&lt;br /&gt;Why did he have to go now? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5135370436160482729?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5135370436160482729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5135370436160482729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5135370436160482729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5135370436160482729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-is-depressing.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2950188913382708088</id><published>2010-11-04T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T05:39:16.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000066;"&gt;You know there’s something wrong with you when: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;1. You cry because you are down with flu.&lt;br /&gt;2. You like a Facebook status because he liked it too.&lt;br /&gt;3. You feel like shouting ‘shut the fuck up’ to almost every living person in the world.&lt;br /&gt;4. You keep rolling your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;5. You want to eat like a pig and yet, you feel like puking your guts out at the sight of food.&lt;br /&gt;6. You forget that your father is dead.&lt;br /&gt;7. You sleep like a log for hours but still feel so stiff and tired.&lt;br /&gt;8. You find Criminal Minds boring.&lt;br /&gt;9. You refuse to believe that you have loads of assignments and revision piling up.&lt;br /&gt;10. You miss your best friends though you talked to both of them just two days ago.&lt;br /&gt;11. You just want to dig a hole right where you’re standing and bury yourself for the rest of eternity. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000066;"&gt;In short, you just feel like crap. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2950188913382708088?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2950188913382708088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2950188913382708088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2950188913382708088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2950188913382708088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-know-theres-something-wrong-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1492631852483321218</id><published>2010-11-02T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T06:01:33.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;Okay, I’m way over that ‘I-met-him-on-Saturday-and-cannot-forget-him’ phase.&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t had any contact with him since Sunday and I am feeling fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;Actually I do feel a little agitated and bitchy because I am not getting what I want, unlike some people who get everything they want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;But I have other things on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Other major things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;1. Like my dad.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him, a lot. I was thinking about the time my sis called me at school to rush down to the hospital and I started crying so badly. Why did he have to die? It changes a lot of things. Big, big changes that choke till you cry for help. I don’t know how the others at home are coping but I’m coping fine, even though I get mini grief attacks that just collapses my world for a few hours before I get distracted with school and money matters. He is gone, forever, and I think this time I started filling up his empty spaces that are never going to have his presence. I don’t know how to start but I guess time will tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. And some selfish, self-centred, ‘I don’t care how you feel’ kind of people.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, such people are what I call family. Like in criminal minds, my mom, sister, brother and myself are the Vics (victims) and my other relatives are the unsubs. Victimology is that we are vulnerable, easy to control, say yes to everything kind of Vics. We just nod our heads and then complain and bitch about unsubs once they leave. Our unsubs, on the other hand, are mean, selfish who apparently love us but can still outcast us just because a loved one of ours died. Even though they define themselves as victims, and still claim that they are grieving over my dad’s death, they can have all the fun in the world but we, the Vics, must be confined to our house and schools just because they think we have to. Because apparently, my dad will feel sad if we are happy without him. He’ll be so affected that we shouldn’t even take an holiday. Seriously people, we cry almost every single day because we have lost the head of the family and all you can do is make up silly folk tales and ruin our days even more? You don’t have to share our misery. The least you could do is shut the fuck up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. And the fact that I’m losing interesting in school. I need to find motivation a soon as possible. I have a feeling this might be because of some really irritating tutors I have but I’m sure it’ll pass. I’m sure I’ll get used to them like I did to Mr Lee Tee Jong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Firework&lt;br /&gt;I seriously want to learn how to sing Katy Perry’s Firework. At least half of it. It is so sweet of her to come up with such a sweet song. It made me respect her as a singer and not only the one who tries to manipulate Elmo. And I want to sing it other people, in a way to reach out to them. Not everyone can be so thick skinned like me and I’m sure they need things like this to keep them going. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;Yup, that’s about it but it is serious and major right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;You know, I just realised that some things in life, just cannot be expected. It is the specialty in it. It keeps you waiting and waiting and when it finally happens, you don’t even need it after all. Like my father’s death. It is funny that way. It is so unpredictable. And bitchy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're original, cannot be replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1492631852483321218?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1492631852483321218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1492631852483321218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1492631852483321218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1492631852483321218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/11/okay-im-way-over-that-i-met-him-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1908421612759869742</id><published>2010-10-31T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T02:40:23.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;If you really love me, don't try and change me. - Jennifer Love Hewitt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him but I cannot show it, want him but he cannot know it, need him but I know it'll never be, if only he needed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because he knows the worst thing about me, and its okay. -Meet Joe Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a curious thought, but it's only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them. -Agatha Christie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had that person that you can't seem to stop thinking about...and you don't know why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man of your dreams could be standing right in front of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1908421612759869742?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1908421612759869742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1908421612759869742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1908421612759869742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1908421612759869742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/if-you-really-love-me-dont-try-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-224133322983801335</id><published>2010-10-31T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T01:49:37.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;After a long time, I think I’m crushing on someone.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I know, I’ve only seen him once and that we only spent time together for like, ten hours and I have no freaking idea if I am going to see him again but, I think I like him.&lt;br /&gt;The way he talks, he keeps me thinking.&lt;br /&gt;I know it is almost impossible for a guy to fall for me or even check me out just like that but it is only almost impossible.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think he is soooo handsome or drop dead gorgeous but he is cute.&lt;br /&gt;And he makes me smile, even though there is no reason for me to be doing so.&lt;br /&gt;And out of all the guys whom I had met yesterday, he is the only one who has stayed etched on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I went to sleep thinking about him and I woke up thinking about him.&lt;br /&gt;I seriously do not want to have a crush on a guy whom I’m not going to talk to again but I just can’t help it.&lt;br /&gt;It has been a long time since I felt this way and it feels good.&lt;br /&gt;I feel good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-224133322983801335?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/224133322983801335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=224133322983801335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/224133322983801335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/224133322983801335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/after-long-time-i-think-im-crushing-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6466034755718979254</id><published>2010-10-29T03:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T03:31:01.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;SERIOUSLY!!!&lt;br /&gt;What the hell is wrong with blogwalkers?&lt;br /&gt;They’re so so irritating.&lt;br /&gt;Do I look as if I care about some lame diploma programme or how to prevent hair fall?&lt;br /&gt;They are so stupid and irrelevant.&lt;br /&gt;Just check out this comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Mike: i hope u can continue to write about this topic. really nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My previous post was about my dead dad!&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, don’t they have anything else to do?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe they get paid to do this shit.&lt;br /&gt;Just piss off, losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6466034755718979254?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6466034755718979254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6466034755718979254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6466034755718979254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6466034755718979254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/seriously-what-hell-is-wrong-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4297769567639462685</id><published>2010-10-21T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T06:10:28.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss my dad.&lt;br /&gt;A lot and a lot.&lt;br /&gt;With Deepavali just around the corner, I feel so weird.&lt;br /&gt;Like I want to die.&lt;br /&gt;I can’t even cry anymore.&lt;br /&gt;All my tears have dried up.&lt;br /&gt;It just hurts, a lot.&lt;br /&gt;I really wish that he’ll come back.&lt;br /&gt;It will make things so much nicer.&lt;br /&gt;So much easier.&lt;br /&gt;But he isn’t going to come back, is he?&lt;br /&gt;He really did cheat all of us.&lt;br /&gt;I want to cry out loud.&lt;br /&gt;Scream.&lt;br /&gt;Break things.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so helpless.&lt;br /&gt;Can someone help me?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone hug me and tell me that everything will be okay and hold me there in your arms like my dad used to when I was younger?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone nag at me all the time and irritate me till I cry like he used to do almost every single day?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone make me hate you by doing all the bad things in the world?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone laugh with me so much that my stomach aches a lot?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone make me eat so much and then complain about me not trying to lose weight?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone be my dad?&lt;br /&gt;Can someone bring me my dad?&lt;br /&gt;Please.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll do anything.&lt;br /&gt;Anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;Please.&lt;br /&gt;I want my dad.&lt;br /&gt;Ask him to make me stop crying.&lt;br /&gt;Like he always does.&lt;br /&gt;Ask him to come back.&lt;br /&gt;Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4297769567639462685?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4297769567639462685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4297769567639462685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4297769567639462685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4297769567639462685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-miss-my-dad.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6139897926011151049</id><published>2010-10-18T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T06:36:38.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;"My Immortal" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;By:Evanescence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired of being here&lt;br /&gt;Suppressed by all my childish fears&lt;br /&gt;And if you have to leave&lt;br /&gt;I wish that you would just leave&lt;br /&gt;'Cause your presence still lingers here&lt;br /&gt;And it won't leave me alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These wounds won't seem to heal&lt;br /&gt;This pain is just too real&lt;br /&gt;There's just too much that time cannot erase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears&lt;br /&gt;When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears&lt;br /&gt;And I held your hand through all of these years&lt;br /&gt;But you still have&lt;br /&gt;All of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You used to captivate me&lt;br /&gt;By your resonating light&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm bound by the life you left behind&lt;br /&gt;Your face it haunts&lt;br /&gt;My once pleasant dreams&lt;br /&gt;Your voice it chased away&lt;br /&gt;All the sanity in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These wounds won't seem to heal&lt;br /&gt;This pain is just too real&lt;br /&gt;There's just too much that time cannot erase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone&lt;br /&gt;But though you're still with me&lt;br /&gt;I've been alone all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6139897926011151049?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6139897926011151049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6139897926011151049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6139897926011151049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6139897926011151049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-immortal-byevanescence-im-so-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8247135146937601671</id><published>2010-10-17T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T23:37:22.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Anyways, ask him to fuck off la.&lt;br /&gt;He's apparently depressed and is suicidal.&lt;br /&gt;And is that a reason for me to show up naked at his door?&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;All he wants to do is get under my clothes.&lt;br /&gt;He never liked me. Even as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;I bet he saw me like some sex object.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder if he sees his mom like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Yeah he fought with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8247135146937601671?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8247135146937601671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8247135146937601671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8247135146937601671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8247135146937601671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/anyways-ask-him-to-fuck-off-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2887578170609594509</id><published>2010-10-17T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T22:38:54.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;ATTENTION ALL BLOGWALKERS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;WALK ALL YOU WANT ON MY BLOG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;BUT DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ANY FOOTSTEPS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;PS: All I meant was please do not leave messages on my tagboard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2887578170609594509?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2887578170609594509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2887578170609594509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2887578170609594509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2887578170609594509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/10/attention-all-blogwalkers-walk-all-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7900046157290261668</id><published>2010-09-26T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T04:25:15.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For the past week, when I wake up in the morning, there’s only one thought running through my mind. Is Appa back? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know it is going to be almost three months since I last saw him but after sleepless nights trying to convince myself that he is gone, all I can think about now is; when will he be back? Why isn’t he back yet? What’s taking him so long? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The first month was easier, people trying to console us, trying to sympathise with us and remembering their good old times with him. Those gestures helped me remember that he was dead. That I don’t have a dad anymore. That I am grieving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, the only thing that reminds me that he is gone forever is his photo hung in our living room. Nothing else. It’s like he’s still here, laughing with us as always. And I always find myself including him in our conversation like he’s at work. And then everyone stares at me and then I bite my tongue, realising that he’s no more. He is no more. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I know how it really feels to miss a person. You just sit there, talking about how he did this and said that and then you start tearing in silence because it hurts. Somewhere in your heart, there’s this abyss and it gives you a nagging feeling that you cannot get rid of. And you just want to shut it all out. Nothing matters and the only thing that does is the fact that he’s gone. Forever. Never am I going to see him again. Not today, not tomorrow. Not for my birthday. Not for my graduation. Not for my wedding. Not when I need him. Never. And there’s nothing you can do but cry and cry because that’s the only thing that seems to be the solution. Yes, all you do is cry. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all I do is cry. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can’t bear to look at his photos anymore. It just reminds me the awful truth. I can never take photos with him again. He’s never going to tease me for taking so many photos. I miss his voice. I miss the feel of his legs. I miss his taxi. I miss scolding him. I miss calling him Appa. Who am I going to call Appa now? I have no Appa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is my father? Doesn’t he know that I miss him and that I have forgiven him for everything and that I love him so much? Where the fuck is he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7900046157290261668?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7900046157290261668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7900046157290261668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7900046157290261668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7900046157290261668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/for-past-week-when-i-wake-up-in-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5822115058840971438</id><published>2010-09-20T02:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T02:34:57.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#333300;"&gt;My Sixth Sense: Clairsentient&lt;br /&gt;Feeling is your sixth sense. Called clairsentient (clear feeling), your inner voice is one that touches on your empathetic nature. What does this mean? Well, you're probably the most emotional of your friends and you are very in touch with the feelings of others. As a clairsentient, you often know something is wrong because you experience an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach (or the opposite for good things). It might be that your friend has had a bad day--but hasn't told anyone--and somehow you just know what's going on. Often this type of intuitive knowledge cannot be explained. We bet you've got a bunch of friends, and who wouldn't want a friend that just knows without being told especially on those bad days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5822115058840971438?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5822115058840971438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5822115058840971438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5822115058840971438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5822115058840971438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-sixth-sense-clairsentient-feeling-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9054211992350300600</id><published>2010-09-15T04:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T04:50:01.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;By: Nicole Nordeman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;We rode into town the other day&lt;br /&gt;Just me and my daddy&lt;br /&gt;He said I'd finally reached that age&lt;br /&gt;And I could ride next to him on a horse&lt;br /&gt;That of course was not quite as wide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We heard a crowd of people shouting&lt;br /&gt;And so we stopped to find out why&lt;br /&gt;And there was that man that my dad said he loved&lt;br /&gt;But today there was fear in his eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said daddy why are they screaming&lt;br /&gt;Why are the faces of some of them beaming?&lt;br /&gt;Why is he dressed in that bright purple robe?&lt;br /&gt;I'll bet that crown hurts him more then he shows&lt;br /&gt;Daddy please can't you do something?&lt;br /&gt;He looks as though he's gonna cry&lt;br /&gt;You said he was stronger then all of those guys&lt;br /&gt;Daddy please tell me why?&lt;br /&gt;Why does everyone want him to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day the sky grew cloudy&lt;br /&gt;And daddy said I should go inside&lt;br /&gt;Somehow he knew things would get stormy&lt;br /&gt;Boy was he right&lt;br /&gt;But I could not keep from wondering&lt;br /&gt;If there was something he had to hide&lt;br /&gt;So after he left I had to find out&lt;br /&gt;I was not afraid of getting lost&lt;br /&gt;So I followed the crowds&lt;br /&gt;To a hill where I knew men had been killed&lt;br /&gt;And I heard a voice come from the cross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it said father why are they screaming?&lt;br /&gt;Why are the faces of some of them beaming?&lt;br /&gt;Why are they casting their lots for my clothes?&lt;br /&gt;This crown of thorns hurts me more then it shows&lt;br /&gt;Father please can't you do something?&lt;br /&gt;I know that you must hear my cry's&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could handle a cross of this size&lt;br /&gt;Father remind me why?&lt;br /&gt;Why does everyone want me to die?&lt;br /&gt;When will I understand why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My precious son&lt;br /&gt;I hear them screaming&lt;br /&gt;I'm watching the face of the enemy beaming&lt;br /&gt;But soon I will clothe you in robes of my own&lt;br /&gt;Jesus this hurts me much more then you know&lt;br /&gt;But this dark hour&lt;br /&gt;I must do nothing&lt;br /&gt;Though I've heard your unbearable cries&lt;br /&gt;The power in your blood&lt;br /&gt;Destroys all of the lies&lt;br /&gt;Soon you'll see past their unmerciful lies&lt;br /&gt;Look there below&lt;br /&gt;See the child&lt;br /&gt;Trembling by her father's side&lt;br /&gt;Now I can tell you why&lt;br /&gt;She is why you must die &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9054211992350300600?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9054211992350300600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9054211992350300600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9054211992350300600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9054211992350300600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-by-nicole-nordeman-we-rode-into.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9061620442465263256</id><published>2010-09-15T03:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T03:40:18.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333300;"&gt;As I said on facebook, today is my parents’ 26th wedding anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;Though we were talking about it last night, I forgot all about it today till I went to my mom’s canteen and said that if my dad were here, we could have gone to celebrate at our favourite seafood place.&lt;br /&gt;I blanked out for a second before realising what she meant.&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad, like there’s this nagging feeling tugging at my conscious.&lt;br /&gt;Mom didn’t say anything else or show her sadness but hey, I came from inside her, it was so evident that she was upset.&lt;br /&gt;And I couldn’t blame her, because I’m sure never once in her life would she have imagined that such a thing would happen to her.&lt;br /&gt;Well I definitely didn’t.&lt;br /&gt;My sis got her rose and when I gave it to her, she cried so much.&lt;br /&gt;Like so much, followed by a long talk with sissy and that’s when I slipped away to post about it.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I don’t say much when it comes to these things because it will go unheard, especially with Sissy but who cares?&lt;br /&gt;No one does.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;Too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9061620442465263256?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9061620442465263256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9061620442465263256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9061620442465263256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9061620442465263256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/as-i-said-on-facebook-today-is-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4088911079678129699</id><published>2010-09-12T23:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T23:53:04.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;On a bad hair day,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With body aching like no ones business&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And sniffing like a mad child&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Studying like the world's gonna end tomorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just when I look the worst right&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will have to see the most cutest guys&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4088911079678129699?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4088911079678129699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4088911079678129699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4088911079678129699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4088911079678129699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-bad-hair-day-with-body-aching-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8594782259800552770</id><published>2010-09-11T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T01:49:05.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cute&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;By: Stephan Jerzak&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Your eyes are blue like the ocean&lt;br /&gt;And baby I'm lost out at sea&lt;br /&gt;Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to ask you but I can't seem to speak&lt;br /&gt;Was it love at first sight 'cause I walked by last week&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing Fa la la la la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your lips look so lonely&lt;br /&gt;Would they like to meet mine&lt;br /&gt;You are the one that I've been hoping to find&lt;br /&gt;You're so sweet that you&lt;br /&gt;Put Hersheys out of business&lt;br /&gt;Can I have a photograph to show my friends that&lt;br /&gt;Angels truly exist&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing Fa la la la la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're as cute as a button&lt;br /&gt;The things you do sure are something&lt;br /&gt;Are you running out of breath&lt;br /&gt;From running through my head all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there something in your eye, oh&lt;br /&gt;wait, it's just a sparkle&lt;br /&gt;Can you get a little closer&lt;br /&gt;And help me out a little bit&lt;br /&gt;I scraped my knee fallin' for you&lt;br /&gt;But baby a kiss will do&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing Fa la la la la la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're as cute as a button&lt;br /&gt;The things you do sure are something&lt;br /&gt;Are you running out of breath&lt;br /&gt;From running through my head all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm falling in love and wouldn't I like to think so&lt;br /&gt;And every night I look at the stars out my window&lt;br /&gt;And I hope I can see&lt;br /&gt;The one that we saw together&lt;br /&gt;It was just you and me and honestly&lt;br /&gt;I'll look for that star forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm falling in love and wouldn't I like to think so&lt;br /&gt;And every night I look at the stars out my window&lt;br /&gt;And I hope I can see&lt;br /&gt;The one that we saw together&lt;br /&gt;It was just you and me and honestly&lt;br /&gt;I'll look for that star forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're as cute as a button&lt;br /&gt;The things you do sure are&lt;br /&gt;something&lt;br /&gt;Are you running out of breath&lt;br /&gt;From running through my head all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're as cute as a button&lt;br /&gt;The things you do sure are&lt;br /&gt;something&lt;br /&gt;Are you running out of breath&lt;br /&gt;From running through my head all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;One day, I'll sing this sing with my love, One day.&lt;br /&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8594782259800552770?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8594782259800552770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8594782259800552770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8594782259800552770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8594782259800552770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/cute-by-stephan-jerzak-your-eyes-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4836452756355119762</id><published>2010-09-10T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T20:53:17.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Images of you run in my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Tears rush down my cheeks; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Memories of you make me weak. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;I can’t help but to weep, therefore I cry myself asleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;When I awake, I feel my heart break. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Under the cover, knowing me and you are over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Holding back my tears, wishing you were here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;I thought you were the one for me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;But I guess it wasn't meant to be getting ready for the pain to start, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Smiling to cover my broken heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Still in my heart will be, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;A special place for you and me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4836452756355119762?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4836452756355119762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4836452756355119762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4836452756355119762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4836452756355119762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/images-of-you-run-in-my-head.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9199453819835609479</id><published>2010-09-10T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T01:42:09.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your love is my drug&lt;br /&gt;By: Keisha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I need some rehab,&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe just need some sleep&lt;br /&gt;I've got a sick obsession,&lt;br /&gt;I'm seeing it in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking down every alley,&lt;br /&gt;I'm making those desperate calls&lt;br /&gt;Im staying up all night hoping,&lt;br /&gt;Hit my head against the walls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you've got boy is hard to find&lt;br /&gt;Think about it all about it all the time&lt;br /&gt;I'm all strung up my heart is fried&lt;br /&gt;I just cant get you off my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love&lt;br /&gt;I said your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't listen to any advice, mamma's telling me to think twice&lt;br /&gt;But left to my own devices i'm addicted its a crisis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends think I've gone crazy, my judgment is getting kinda hazy&lt;br /&gt;My status is gonna be affected if I keep it up like a love sick crackhead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you've got boy is hard to find&lt;br /&gt;Think about it all about it all the time&lt;br /&gt;I'm all strung up my heart is fried&lt;br /&gt;I just cant get you off my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love&lt;br /&gt;I said your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care what people say&lt;br /&gt;The rush is worth the price I pay&lt;br /&gt;I get so high when you're with me&lt;br /&gt;But crash and crave you when you are away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got a question;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to have a summer party in my basement?&lt;br /&gt;Do I make your heart beat like an 808 drum?&lt;br /&gt;Is my love, your drug?&lt;br /&gt;(huh) Your drug? (huh) your drug? (huh) your drug?&lt;br /&gt;Is my love, your drug?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love&lt;br /&gt;I said your love, your love, your love, is my drug&lt;br /&gt;Your love your love your love (x2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heyyy heyyy your love, your love,your love,your love, (whispered) is my drug&lt;br /&gt;I like your beard &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9199453819835609479?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9199453819835609479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9199453819835609479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9199453819835609479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9199453819835609479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/your-love-is-my-drug-by-keisha-maybe-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5215321459161067729</id><published>2010-09-08T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:47:33.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;I never knew about him till he died.&lt;br /&gt;But Rest in Peace, Shanker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5215321459161067729?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5215321459161067729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5215321459161067729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5215321459161067729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5215321459161067729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-never-knew-about-him-till-he-died.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8231766665228218588</id><published>2010-09-08T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T04:32:25.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dear Kanageswari Konasegaran, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you have finish taken The Real You, Personality Test. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here is the analysis: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your boyfriend believes that you are a strong and independent person. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your confidence and cheerfulness make you an attractive person to be around, but sometimes you need to pay more attention to what other people, including your boyfriend, are thinking.&lt;br /&gt;You've got great self-confidence and you're full of charm&lt;br /&gt;Most guys who get to know you will be attracted to you&lt;br /&gt;You are far from sweet and proper; your intriguing personality fascinates them&lt;br /&gt;Most guys find it easy to fall for a girl like you&lt;br /&gt;You don't really care about other people's feelings&lt;br /&gt;You do things the way you want and usually think only about yourself&lt;br /&gt;You are easy-going and love to have fun&lt;br /&gt;But you can be irresponsible as well&lt;br /&gt;You are not keen on serious discussions because they can make you remember that life isn't always about parties&lt;br /&gt;You are a bright&lt;br /&gt;Cheerful and bubbly person&lt;br /&gt;You are thoughtful and considerate&lt;br /&gt;And like to have fun&lt;br /&gt;Everybody feels comfortable around you because of your pleasant nature&lt;br /&gt;When you walk into a room&lt;br /&gt;People's eyes are likely to be drawn to you because of your charm&lt;br /&gt;Your peers think of you as a fun person&lt;br /&gt;You can be somewhat childish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8231766665228218588?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8231766665228218588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8231766665228218588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8231766665228218588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8231766665228218588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/dear-kanageswari-konasegaran-you-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2466810343818950256</id><published>2010-09-04T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T22:11:03.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Okay what is your problem?&lt;br /&gt;Everything I do is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Even if it’s right, you find it wrong.&lt;br /&gt;And whatever you say is right.&lt;br /&gt;It’s like I’m a laughing stock.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone laughed at me.&lt;br /&gt;Just because I laugh at myself, it does not mean I let others laugh at me for every single thing.&lt;br /&gt;Why must I give in all the time?&lt;br /&gt;It’s like you can say anything and everything and I should just keep my mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason why I am the luckiest but you are also the reason why I am the unluckiest.&lt;br /&gt;You realise you get everything because you came first.&lt;br /&gt;And you don’t even give in.&lt;br /&gt;I’m the unlucky one, not you.&lt;br /&gt;I’m the damned one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2466810343818950256?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2466810343818950256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2466810343818950256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2466810343818950256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2466810343818950256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/okay-what-is-your-problem-everything-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-3367539071279932794</id><published>2010-09-04T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T20:02:16.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kanageswari Konasegaran &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;What do Your Eyes Say About You?&lt;br /&gt;Result: &lt;strong&gt;Boldness. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;When people look into your &lt;strong&gt;eyes&lt;/strong&gt;, they can see that you're an &lt;strong&gt;energetic, happy,&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;cheerful&lt;/strong&gt; person. You're&lt;strong&gt; outgoing&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;fun&lt;/strong&gt;, and &lt;strong&gt;love to make new friends&lt;/strong&gt;. You're &lt;strong&gt;not afraid to speak your mind&lt;/strong&gt;, and you &lt;strong&gt;never stop laughing&lt;/strong&gt;! People realize that you're a &lt;strong&gt;bouncy, loud person&lt;/strong&gt;, that can sometimes be &lt;strong&gt;abnoxious, just by looking into your eyes&lt;/strong&gt;. They can see that you're a &lt;strong&gt;unique, stylish, and one-of-a-kind individual&lt;/strong&gt;. You're &lt;strong&gt;independent&lt;/strong&gt;, and you&lt;strong&gt; don't let anybody get in your way&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I love Facebook. ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-3367539071279932794?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/3367539071279932794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=3367539071279932794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3367539071279932794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3367539071279932794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/kanageswari-konasegaran-what-do-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4267724371020073657</id><published>2010-09-04T01:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T01:55:31.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 more days and it will be two months.&lt;br /&gt;Only two months.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how I am going to survive for another two more months.&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have come this far and all but it is tearing me down.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad. A lot and a lot.&lt;br /&gt;I have stopped talking about him to people.&lt;br /&gt;I know that it will either make them sad or they’ll think that I’m going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;I feel lost.&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere I go, everything I see, everything I say, reminds me of him.&lt;br /&gt;Every movement is empty.&lt;br /&gt;Because he is not here.&lt;br /&gt;I have been holding this in because I don’t want to cry in front of my family.&lt;br /&gt;A family without my dad.&lt;br /&gt;But today I read someone’s blog and she had lost her mom six months ago and I can’t help but cry.&lt;br /&gt;Why must God be so cruel?&lt;br /&gt;Why must he give us this life filled with distractions and then pluck it away?&lt;br /&gt;Just like that?&lt;br /&gt;It’s as if it’s so simple.&lt;br /&gt;But it’s not. Not at all.&lt;br /&gt;As I am crying now, I remember the times my dad used to scold me for crying.&lt;br /&gt;And that we should cry only when someone dies.&lt;br /&gt;Well Appa, you’re dead, can I cry now?&lt;br /&gt;Cry like there’s no tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;I just cant believe this is happening in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I used to always think what life would be like when someone I love so much passes away.&lt;br /&gt;Now I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life would be cruel.&lt;br /&gt;And you have to go on like nothing’s wrong because time and tide waits for no man.&lt;br /&gt;And there will be this missing puzzle piece that will always be missing.&lt;br /&gt;You will never find it.&lt;br /&gt;You can never find it.&lt;br /&gt;Grief cannot be compared, that is one thing I learnt.&lt;br /&gt;It’s like my life has become a sitcom, with a complication or a conflict waiting to be solved.&lt;br /&gt;There is no solution but you can heal.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly.&lt;br /&gt;There will always be that gaping abyss but atleast the pain will subside, sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;And I am waiting for that sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;God knows when it’ll be but I pray it be faster because this pain is getting too much to handle.&lt;br /&gt;Because my dad isn’t here to make me smile anymore.&lt;br /&gt;And may these tears reach him and give him this message:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;And I am angry with you.&lt;br /&gt;For leaving us like this.&lt;br /&gt;For leaving me like this.&lt;br /&gt;For not saying goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;For not coming back again.&lt;br /&gt;But I know, that you were in too much of pain and you couldn’t handle it.&lt;br /&gt;It’s okay.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll handle it.&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m crying a lot and you don’t like it but its only for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll pull myself together.&lt;br /&gt;You just be happy, in a place that I cant see.&lt;br /&gt;Take care of yourself and don’t worry about us.&lt;br /&gt;And I will always love you, Appa. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4267724371020073657?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4267724371020073657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4267724371020073657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4267724371020073657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4267724371020073657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/09/3-more-days-and-it-will-be-two-months.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4923983148238918327</id><published>2010-08-31T03:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T04:01:25.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;I met Aida today and man, I felt happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;It seems like a million years since I last saw her and her hug once she saw me made me very, very happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;We talked, bitched, sang, laughed, walked and recollected memories after such a long time and I felt bliss. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Though I wanted to tell her I was upset about a lot of things and that I just wanted to cry, I forgot all of that because I was seriously glad and un-upset. I’m still smiling to myself about all the things I we talked about and all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;And her friend was hilarious, I tell you. He reminded of me Dhivyen but a much nicer version to look at and hear (sorry Dhivyen) but really he looked okay but I’m in love with his voice. It’s like so damn sexayyyyy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Aida said something; she said that I don’t have to pretend to be happy. And god, I think that girl is psychic because that is exactly what I’m doing. Even if I don’t want to smile, and even if I don’t want to talk, I still do it. I’m scared of people thinking my dad’s death has changed me and I’m trying a lot and a lot to not change or think too much but guess I’m trying too hard.&lt;br /&gt;Aida was the first person I confessed to that I have not been sleeping properly. Yes, I have not been sleeping, at all. It’s like I’m becoming a zombie. It really is taking a toll on me. I’m tired, sleepy, and groggy and I can’t talk like normal. I feel sad and upset and I just want to be quiet, not be emo or anything but you know, just be quiet. I want to sing and sing. But then again, I can’t. I feel like going swimming, though I can’t swim. I just want to float in the water and sing. Okay, now, I sound weird. Even to myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Yup, that’s about it. Whatever I wanted to sayyyy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Here’s a part of what I wrote in my sister’s teacher’s day card: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Just remember akka, you’re not alone in this.&lt;br /&gt;All of us are going to go through this together.&lt;br /&gt;All of us.&lt;br /&gt;You, me, Bubbles, Amma and even Appa (God knows where he is).&lt;br /&gt;And I will always love you.&lt;br /&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;Aren’t I sweet? (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"&gt;♥Kanages&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4923983148238918327?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4923983148238918327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4923983148238918327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4923983148238918327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4923983148238918327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-met-aida-today-and-man-i-felt-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-3139986881661737385</id><published>2010-08-25T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T21:28:18.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love the way you lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;By: Eminem ft Rihanna&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And watch me burn&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I like&lt;br /&gt;The way it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And hear me cry&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I love&lt;br /&gt;The way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't tell you what it really is&lt;br /&gt;I can only tell you what it feels like&lt;br /&gt;And right now there's a steel knife&lt;br /&gt;In my windpipe&lt;br /&gt;I can't breathe&lt;br /&gt;But I still fight&lt;br /&gt;While I can fight&lt;br /&gt;As long as the wrong feels right&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm in flight&lt;br /&gt;High of a love&lt;br /&gt;Drunk from the hate&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm huffing paint&lt;br /&gt;And I love it the more that I suffer&lt;br /&gt;I sufficate&lt;br /&gt;And right before im about to drown&lt;br /&gt;She resuscitates me&lt;br /&gt;She fucking hates me&lt;br /&gt;And I love it&lt;br /&gt;Wait&lt;br /&gt;Where you going&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving you&lt;br /&gt;No you ain't&lt;br /&gt;Come back&lt;br /&gt;We're running right back&lt;br /&gt;Here we go again&lt;br /&gt;It's so insane&lt;br /&gt;Cause when it's going good&lt;br /&gt;It's going great&lt;br /&gt;I'm Superman&lt;br /&gt;With the wind in his bag&lt;br /&gt;She's Lois Lane&lt;br /&gt;But when it's bad&lt;br /&gt;It's awful&lt;br /&gt;I feel so ashamed&lt;br /&gt;I snap&lt;br /&gt;Who's that dude&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know his name&lt;br /&gt;I laid hands on her&lt;br /&gt;I'll never stoop so low again&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't know my own strength&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And watch me burn&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I like&lt;br /&gt;The way it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And hear me cry&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I love&lt;br /&gt;The way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever love somebody so much&lt;br /&gt;You can barely breathe&lt;br /&gt;When you're with them&lt;br /&gt;You meet&lt;br /&gt;And neither one of you&lt;br /&gt;Even know what hit 'em&lt;br /&gt;Got that warm fuzzy feeling&lt;br /&gt;Yeah them chills&lt;br /&gt;Used to get 'em&lt;br /&gt;Now you're getting fucking sick&lt;br /&gt;Of looking at 'em&lt;br /&gt;You swore you've never hit 'em&lt;br /&gt;Never do nothing to hurt 'em&lt;br /&gt;Now you're in each other's face&lt;br /&gt;Spewing venom&lt;br /&gt;And these words&lt;br /&gt;When you spit 'em&lt;br /&gt;You push&lt;br /&gt;Pull each other's hair&lt;br /&gt;Scratch, claw, bit 'em&lt;br /&gt;Throw 'em down&lt;br /&gt;Pin 'em&lt;br /&gt;So lost in the moments&lt;br /&gt;When you're in 'em&lt;br /&gt;It's the rage that took over&lt;br /&gt;It controls you both&lt;br /&gt;So they say it's best&lt;br /&gt;To go your separate ways&lt;br /&gt;Guess that they don't know ya&lt;br /&gt;Cause today&lt;br /&gt;That was yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday is over&lt;br /&gt;It's a different day&lt;br /&gt;Sound like broken records&lt;br /&gt;Playin' over&lt;br /&gt;But you promised her&lt;br /&gt;Next time you'll show restraint&lt;br /&gt;You don't get another chance&lt;br /&gt;Life is no Nintendo game&lt;br /&gt;But you lied again&lt;br /&gt;Now you get to watch her leave&lt;br /&gt;Out the window&lt;br /&gt;Guess that's why they call it window pane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And watch me burn&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I like&lt;br /&gt;The way it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And hear me cry&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I love&lt;br /&gt;The way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know we said things&lt;br /&gt;Did things&lt;br /&gt;That we didn't mean&lt;br /&gt;And we fall back&lt;br /&gt;Into the same patterns&lt;br /&gt;Same routine&lt;br /&gt;But your temper's just as bad&lt;br /&gt;As mine is&lt;br /&gt;You're the same as me&lt;br /&gt;But when it comes to love&lt;br /&gt;You're just as blinded&lt;br /&gt;Baby please come back&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't you&lt;br /&gt;Baby it was me&lt;br /&gt;Maybe our relationship&lt;br /&gt;Isn't as crazy as it seems&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's what happens&lt;br /&gt;When a tornado meets a volcano&lt;br /&gt;All I know is&lt;br /&gt;I love you too much&lt;br /&gt;To walk away though&lt;br /&gt;Come inside&lt;br /&gt;Pick up your bags off the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt;Don't you hear sincerity&lt;br /&gt;In my voice when I talk&lt;br /&gt;Told you this is my fault&lt;br /&gt;Look me in the eyeball&lt;br /&gt;Next time I'm pissed&lt;br /&gt;I'll aim my fist&lt;br /&gt;At the dry wall&lt;br /&gt;Next time&lt;br /&gt;There will be no next time&lt;br /&gt;I apologize&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know it's lies&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of the games&lt;br /&gt;I just want her back&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm a liar&lt;br /&gt;If she ever tries to fucking leave again&lt;br /&gt;I'mma tie her to the bed&lt;br /&gt;And set the house on fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And watch me burn&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I like&lt;br /&gt;The way it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Just gonna stand there&lt;br /&gt;And hear me cry&lt;br /&gt;But that's alright&lt;br /&gt;Because I love&lt;br /&gt;The way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you lie &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-3139986881661737385?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/3139986881661737385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=3139986881661737385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3139986881661737385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3139986881661737385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/love-way-you-lie-by-eminem-ft-rihanna.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5398182966756593900</id><published>2010-08-18T03:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T03:19:58.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I cant do what I want because of her.&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to meet up with them but now, I cant.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, she went out with her friends rightttt?&lt;br /&gt;So?&lt;br /&gt;Why cant I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5398182966756593900?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5398182966756593900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5398182966756593900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5398182966756593900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5398182966756593900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-well.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8426125188068541338</id><published>2010-08-15T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T05:23:03.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Isnt it funny how we live in the same world?&lt;br /&gt;And the joke of the millenium is that you've known  me all my life and yet, you can be like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8426125188068541338?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8426125188068541338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8426125188068541338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8426125188068541338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8426125188068541338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/isnt-it-funny-how-we-live-in-same-world.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8465455173734558561</id><published>2010-08-15T03:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T03:16:32.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hinduism is an exciting thing. But using that to lead your life is not as interesting.&lt;br /&gt;It’s more like superstition gone wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Really wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I had a dream about my dad.&lt;br /&gt;So what?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he is trying to tell us something.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe it’s just what I think of sub consciously.&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t that the definition of dreams?&lt;br /&gt;I’m so sick and tired of all this, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;He is dead.&lt;br /&gt;Period. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8465455173734558561?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8465455173734558561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8465455173734558561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8465455173734558561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8465455173734558561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/hinduism-is-exciting-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2863597530414295353</id><published>2010-08-15T02:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T02:56:28.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I think she thinks I’m stupid.&lt;br /&gt;And it’s irritating. Very, very irritating.&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure she doesn’t mean it.&lt;br /&gt;But still.&lt;br /&gt;That’s not an excuse, is it?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t do that.&lt;br /&gt;It’s so freaking annoying, okay?&lt;br /&gt;Like I’m some sort of psychotic child who needs constant reprimanding and reminders.&lt;br /&gt;And it’s especially in front of people.&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m your baby sister but that does not mean I will be a baby for the rest of my life okay?&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I sound so mean and all but I can’t help it. I just can’t help it and it’s not fair. Not fair at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2863597530414295353?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2863597530414295353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2863597530414295353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2863597530414295353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2863597530414295353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/sometimes-i-think-she-thinks-im-stupid.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9131868114888869257</id><published>2010-08-11T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T07:44:07.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hate.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;I hate it, I just hate it when they blame my Dad for some things, fucking retarded things that happened after he left. And the reason he is blamed is because he is dead and can cause everything, both logical and supernatural. Isnt it fucking stupid? Yeah it is. And I just hate it. I hate this feeling. This feeling of loss. This feeling of helplessness. The feeling that makes you wanna scream your heart out and also curl into a ball and bury yourself away from the world, all at the same time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;I hate it that I miss so many of my friends and I need to talk to them but they arent here for me. It could be that I'm being silly but I do feel a tiny winy bit neglected. And I hate it. I dont wanna feel that way. I wanna be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;Which brings me to the next complaint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;I hate being not happy. I feel so unhappy nowadays and it's tearing me up. No matter how much I want this unhappiness and gloominess to go away, it still lingers around and I abso-fucking-lutely hate it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;I hate the fact that my dad is dead and people look at us differently. I still cry but I'm not sure why anymore. Is it because I miss my dad too much? Is it because I dont like this change? Is it because I'm afraid to move on? I hate this state of confusion. I've never been like this, with so much of things going on, big, important things. It's so hazy and cloudy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;I think I need help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;It's like I'm in a dream I'll never wake up from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9131868114888869257?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9131868114888869257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9131868114888869257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9131868114888869257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9131868114888869257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/hate.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6095994981602065200</id><published>2010-08-09T06:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T06:32:47.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was scrolling down my blog when all of a sudden, I saw Adli and hot.&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me, ADLI IS HOTTT AND HE WAS AWESOME DURING CASS IDOL!&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Adli. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6095994981602065200?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6095994981602065200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6095994981602065200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6095994981602065200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6095994981602065200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-was-scrolling-down-my-blog-when-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1349291399165174836</id><published>2010-08-09T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T06:29:01.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>No, seriously, what makes you think that something like that could happen to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1349291399165174836?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1349291399165174836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1349291399165174836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1349291399165174836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1349291399165174836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/no-seriously-what-makes-you-think-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-472516041102705774</id><published>2010-08-09T05:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T05:25:44.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh yeah, I'm so proud to be a Singaporean.&lt;br /&gt;But I'll take after my Dad, I'll vote for SDP when I turn 21.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-472516041102705774?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/472516041102705774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=472516041102705774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/472516041102705774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/472516041102705774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-yeah-im-so-proud-to-be-singaporean.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4728056795745271138</id><published>2010-08-09T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T05:23:25.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If Appa were here, my Mom would have called him to get passengers from the Padang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4728056795745271138?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4728056795745271138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4728056795745271138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4728056795745271138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4728056795745271138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/if-appa-were-here-my-mom-would-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6527484016820373236</id><published>2010-08-07T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T06:54:08.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>By this time last month, he was dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6527484016820373236?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6527484016820373236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6527484016820373236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6527484016820373236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6527484016820373236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/by-this-time-last-month-he-was-dead.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1533507240138377268</id><published>2010-08-07T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T02:53:22.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Your msn status made me puke because I know you're making use of him.&lt;br /&gt;I've lost alot of things including him.&lt;br /&gt;But what bothers me is that I lost him to you.&lt;br /&gt;I lost a crush. I lost a classmate. Most important of all, I lost a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1533507240138377268?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1533507240138377268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1533507240138377268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1533507240138377268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1533507240138377268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/your-msn-status-made-me-puke-because-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5316478350148276836</id><published>2010-08-05T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T00:16:16.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Happy Birthday Appa.&lt;br /&gt;I still cant beleive you're dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5316478350148276836?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5316478350148276836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5316478350148276836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5316478350148276836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5316478350148276836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-happy-birthday-appa.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2721513875600034830</id><published>2010-08-04T19:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T19:55:40.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I left home with a really heavy heart today.&lt;br /&gt;Today is his 53rd birthday.&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to get him a phone.&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to go some place fancy as finally, he was treating us right.&lt;br /&gt;I really need to cry but what's the point?&lt;br /&gt;How is it going to help?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2721513875600034830?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2721513875600034830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2721513875600034830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2721513875600034830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2721513875600034830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-left-home-with-really-heavy-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8883116904014387946</id><published>2010-08-03T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T05:42:36.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It’s funny how things go about.&lt;br /&gt;My sister’s primary school teacher just visited us.&lt;br /&gt;And I kept on thinking to myself, why such a sudden visit? Why is today so special?&lt;br /&gt;So I was in my room rushing ONOW Reflections and I finally went out when they were leaving and the uncle turned to me and said you know, your dad and I used to work together, fifteen years ago?&lt;br /&gt;And I looked at him and thought to myself, why is he telling this to me?&lt;br /&gt;And it dawned on me that they came to console us and he told me that because he was recalling memories of a dead person and it struck me then and it struck me hard, my dad is dead.&lt;br /&gt;And I cried. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8883116904014387946?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8883116904014387946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8883116904014387946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8883116904014387946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8883116904014387946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-funny-how-things-go-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-421064136021125913</id><published>2010-08-02T06:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T06:16:53.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You know all these days, I've been thinking only about myself, I have failed to think about the rest of my family. What Amma must have been going through to call Appa's number everyday. What must Akka feel to have such a huge responsibilty at this age? What must Bala have felt when I caught him staring at his death certificate today? What must Appa feel? To be away from us, be so near us yet so far away. What must I feel? To be fatherless right now?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-421064136021125913?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/421064136021125913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=421064136021125913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/421064136021125913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/421064136021125913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-know-all-these-days-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5793039498843842283</id><published>2010-08-02T01:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T01:12:49.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I miss alot of people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5793039498843842283?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5793039498843842283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5793039498843842283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5793039498843842283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5793039498843842283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-miss-alot-of-people.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7711352603597395085</id><published>2010-08-01T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T06:02:40.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Gemini Strength Keywords:&lt;br /&gt;- Energetic&lt;br /&gt;- Clever&lt;br /&gt;- Imaginative&lt;br /&gt;- Witty&lt;br /&gt;- Adaptable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Weakness Keywords:&lt;br /&gt;- Superficial&lt;br /&gt;- Impulsive&lt;br /&gt;- Restless&lt;br /&gt;- Devious&lt;br /&gt;- Indecisive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini and Independence:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini are extremely independent. They will not be pinned down by anyone or any rules. They need to experience the world on their own. Change and freedom are extremely important to Gemini, they will never let anyone dictate them, they are extremely independent and freedom is essential to their mental well being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini and Friendship:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini make very interesting and exciting friends. They like to leave their mark on everyone they meet. They are very flighty and will disappear for a long time as they meet new friends and explore new places. But when they come back, they will have new thoughts, opinions and interesting things to share and ideas to teach. Life is very interesting and fun with a Gemini friend. If you need any advice, Gemini is the one to ask. They are masters of communication and they can help you get what you need by helping you with persuasion and enthusiasm, and they give good advice too. Do not however, bog a Gemini down with all of your emotional problems, they are not want to deal with it because it depresses them and steps on their freedom if you need too much long term help, support and follow up. A Gemini friend can fill you in with the latest gossip and if you love conversation, the Gemini delivers! They are very generous with their friends, they will spend lots of time with you and share everything with you. Even though Gemini is a social butterfly, they always need time for themselves and that should be respected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini and Business:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini tends to disperse their energy on different tasks and not just focus on one thing thus leaving a trail of unfinished projects in their wake. If they were to focus their energy in one place, their cleverness and intelligence would allow them to complete their project with success and creativity. Gemini makes an excellent manager, they can motivate a team with their enthusiasm and vitality. They also make excellent salespeople because their ease of communication allows them to be clever and make a comeback to anything a person says. They can persuade and manipulate very well. They can easily justify any move they make and explain any action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Temperament:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini have the ability to react instantly to situations, and as a result, they have a very nervous temperament. They can be compared to a wound up spring as they attempt to absorb everything they can about their surroundings at once. The fact that they enjoy various situations and people add to their nervousness and that means they are almost constantly wound up. However, if they experience boredom and have nothing to survey, they get the same emotions, the need for excitement and variety. This is the Gemini duality, constantly conflicting emotions in one spontaneous, excitable package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Deep Inside:&lt;br /&gt;One downfall of Gemini is their superficiality. Instead of looking deep into a person's real qualities, Gemini will judge a person by the way they treat them. This can lead Gemini to have wrong impressions of people and can cause problems ion relationships. Gemini's can have feeling of discouragement and moodiness although they never allow this to be seen by anyone but heir closest friends or family. Gemini usually want everyone to think that they are always happy and doing wonderfully and stress never affects them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini in a Nutshell:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini people are many sided, quick both in the mind and physically. They are brimming with energy and vitality, they are clever with words. They are intelligent and very adaptable to every situation and every person. Gemini are curious and always want to know what's going on in the world around them. They are not one to sit back and watch the world go by, they want to be involved. This can sometimes make Gemini nosy, they do not mind their own business! This is because they really enjoy communicating, more so then most other astrology signs, they are the ultimate social butterfly. Gemini can talk and talk, but they have interesting things to say, their talk is not mindless babble. They have interesting opinions and thoughts on things and are not afraid to speak their mind. They are always in the know and are the one to see for the latest juicy gossip. Lacking perseverance, Gemini easily goes off topic to explore another thought or idea. Gemini are superficial, they will form opinions on matter without diving into them and exploring them fully. This can lead them into thinking they know everything, which they usually do but their mind is too busy to be concerned with fine details. Routine and boredom are Gemini's biggest fears. Gemini would rather be naive then know the depressing truth, they do not want anything putting a damper on their freedom or positive energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Love, Sex and Relationships&lt;br /&gt;What it's like to date a Gemini Woman:&lt;br /&gt;The Gemini woman is truly enchanting. However, dating her might feel more like a friendship then a real relationship due to her casual nature. This is not necessarily a disadvantage, for the casual man who shy's away from overly romantic emotions, she is the perfect woman. Since she is the astrology sign of the duality, she offers quite the challenge. One one hand, she needs to be nurtured, loved and catered to and on the other hand, she needs stimulation and novelty. She is very demanding and if you do not provide what she wants, she will be off onto the next adventure pretty quickly. To keep her interested is a challenge, not completely impossible so she is the perfect woman for the man who likes stimulation and a challenge. She needs a partner with a quick mind, she tends to poke and prod at the emotions and the minds of those who are mentally slower then her, make sure you can keep up to her wit or you will briskly be left behind. She is prone to keeping men on a string, not completely heartlessly, she is evaluating if the man is worth her attention and her time she has no time to waste with a dull man. Once you have her approval, she can easily become jealous. The reason for her is jealousy is that if she is going to open up to a man, when she rarely completely opens up to anyone, she does not want to risk her being deceived or hurt. If you are with a Gemini woman and she becomes jealous, you are on the right track to true love! Gemini women are so exciting that they are worth the effort, you will remember her forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How To Attract Gemini:&lt;br /&gt;Love to talk, that is the first rule about impressing a Gemini. Be knowledgeable about that you talk about too because Gemini are intelligent and have lots of knowledge about many things. If you are an expert on a certain topic, teach them about it, you will impress them because this know-it-all sign is does not usually know fine details about a lot of things, they are too busy to bother to learn. Speak your mind, engage them in a friendly debate but never be too conservative, they find this dull. Be honest and loyal to a Gemini, once they have had their trust broken they usually will never get it back again. Gemini are easy to date, they will do any activity anywhere. Just have fun, like you would with a friends because that's what Gemini are, a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Erogenous Zone:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini's hot spots are the hands and arms. These are very sensitive regions and are very receptive a massage and a gentle touch or stroke. This also calms the high-strung Gemini and relaxes them, setting the mood for passion. Gemini's usually love their finger being sucked or nibbled, a great integration into foreplay that will heighten the mood. Gemini women love it when a man grabs their hand and kisses it, like a princess.&lt;br /&gt;Sex With Gemini:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini loves to experiment and sex with a Gemini is full of novelty and excitement, trying anything and everything nearly anywhere. Gemini is not for the faint of heart or the shy and secretive lovers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How To Attract Gemini:&lt;br /&gt;Love to talk, that is the first rule about impressing a Gemini. Be knowledgeable about that you talk about too because Gemini are intelligent and have lots of knowledge about many things. If you are an expert on a certain topic, teach them about it, you will impress them because this know-it-all sign is does not usually know fine details about a lot of things, they are too busy to bother to learn. Speak your mind, engage them in a friendly debate but never be too conservative, they find this dull. Be honest and loyal to a Gemini, once they have had their trust broken they usually will never get it back again. Gemini are easy to date, they will do any activity anywhere. Just have fun, like you would with a friends because that's what Gemini are, a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gemini Erogenous Zone:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini's hot spots are the hands and arms. These are very sensitive regions and are very receptive a massage and a gentle touch or stroke. This also calms the high-strung Gemini and relaxes them, setting the mood for passion. Gemini's usually love their finger being sucked or nibbled, a great integration into foreplay that will heighten the mood. Gemini women love it when a man grabs their hand and kisses it, like a princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex With Gemini:&lt;br /&gt;Gemini loves to experiment and sex with a Gemini is full of novelty and excitement, trying anything and everything nearly anywhere. Gemini is not for the faint of heart or the shy and secretive lovers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7711352603597395085?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7711352603597395085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7711352603597395085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7711352603597395085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7711352603597395085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/08/gemini-strength-keywords-energetic.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8292078890993878522</id><published>2010-07-31T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T22:05:49.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I have been posting pictures of my dad on facebook and I realised I cant take pictures with him anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;He wont be present at functions anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;He'll never tease me for taking so many photographs anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I wont see him anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8292078890993878522?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8292078890993878522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8292078890993878522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8292078890993878522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8292078890993878522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-have-been-posting-pictures-of-my-dad.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6841224708999844229</id><published>2010-07-30T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T22:03:39.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Did you know when people appear in your dreams, it's because that person misses and wants to see you. - TIME magazine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I dreamt of my dad last night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Does he miss me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6841224708999844229?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6841224708999844229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6841224708999844229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6841224708999844229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6841224708999844229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/did-you-know-when-people-appear-in-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2772629813196853518</id><published>2010-07-26T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T21:55:15.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I really didnt have anything to say but I have alot to say today. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel really sad.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's not a day I have not cried int hese 21 days.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel so fucked up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like I'm depressed.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I dont like it at all.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I dont wanna feel like this.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I dont wanna feek sad all my life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know I need time to believe that he wont come back again and also time to get back to business, but how long more? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Its going to be a month. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just cant take this anymore.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I cant believe there's gonna be more such days. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My entire life without him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is so unrealisticly unbelievable.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2772629813196853518?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2772629813196853518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2772629813196853518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2772629813196853518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2772629813196853518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-really-didnt-have-anything-to-say-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4054608565028663426</id><published>2010-07-25T05:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T05:27:12.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The relationship between a parent and child is one of the truest relationships in the universe. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No matter what happens you will never stop having this relationship with your family. Legal documents can't do anything. Nothing can change that relationship.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;Said by a Stranger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4054608565028663426?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4054608565028663426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4054608565028663426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4054608565028663426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4054608565028663426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/relationship-between-parent-and-child.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7142435188834606071</id><published>2010-07-25T05:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T05:22:53.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dont know what to write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7142435188834606071?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7142435188834606071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7142435188834606071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7142435188834606071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7142435188834606071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-dont-know-what-to-write.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-3929258643043457090</id><published>2010-07-18T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T20:44:49.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Hurt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;By: Christina Aguilera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face&lt;br /&gt;You told me how proud you were, but I walked away&lt;br /&gt;If only I knew what I know today, ooh, ooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would hold you in my arms, I would take the pain away&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all you've done, forgive all your mistakes&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won't be there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself by hurting you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss&lt;br /&gt;And it's so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this, ooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you tell me I was wrong? Would you help me understand?&lt;br /&gt;Are you looking down upon me? Are you proud of who I am?&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I wouldn't do to have just one more chance&lt;br /&gt;To look into your eyes and see you looking back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had just one more day&lt;br /&gt;I would tell you how much that I've missed you&lt;br /&gt;Since you've been away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's dangerous&lt;br /&gt;It's so out of line&lt;br /&gt;To try and turn back time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for blaming you&lt;br /&gt;For everything I just couldn't do&lt;br /&gt;And I've hurt myself&lt;br /&gt;By hurting you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-3929258643043457090?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/3929258643043457090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=3929258643043457090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3929258643043457090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3929258643043457090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/hurt-by-christina-aguilera-seems-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7138313539701793298</id><published>2010-07-18T18:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T18:21:52.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is your best trait?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Result: Joyfulness&lt;br /&gt;You light up a room with your smile and laughter, and people gravitate to you because of your joyfulness. You love life and get excited about all it has to offer. You love to cheer people up and give them encouragement when they are down. Your bubbly personality and gen...uine smile brighten up peoples' day. Your positive attitude helps lighten up those who take life too seriously. You know how to have fun, let loose, be spontaneous. Be it life's greatest experiences or just the small simple details of life, you soak it all up and it inspires everyone around you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7138313539701793298?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7138313539701793298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7138313539701793298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7138313539701793298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7138313539701793298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-is-your-best-trait-my-result.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1676005963781245325</id><published>2010-07-16T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T07:24:05.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ten days already.&lt;br /&gt;How fast can time fly?&lt;br /&gt;I still can’t come to terms with it.&lt;br /&gt;It’s only in these ten days that I realise that many people actually care about me and I must hang in there, for all the people who love me so much.&lt;br /&gt;I feel really amused that such things can even change people's attitudes towards us. People who used to be so rude are saying that they’ll always be there and are apologising for being that way. And also, people whom I used to be unhappy with seem like better beings and I realise I do love and care about them, even though I used to think I dislike them.&lt;br /&gt;I cried in class today, something that I swore I wouldn’t do. However, when Miss Simone talked about her family, I just couldn’t take it. She opened me up in a way. She’s the only person who asked me how I feel and what I am afraid of right now. That helped, not in a big way but at least a little.&lt;br /&gt;And then later today, I was asking my sister to dress up for racial harmony day and she said, for what? Still griefing what. And I just gasped, I couldn’t help it. I had actually forgotten that he had passed away. And I started crying again. That sucked, really.&lt;br /&gt;Everything sucks. I feel sucky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1676005963781245325?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1676005963781245325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1676005963781245325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1676005963781245325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1676005963781245325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/ten-days-already.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7093736080750106888</id><published>2010-07-16T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T07:20:15.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hey Miss Azizah, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re coping better now but it was so sudden that in these ten days, I sometimes forget he’s gone.&lt;br /&gt;What happened was that he had an heart attack. He’s heart simply stopped. Even on Tuesday, I had been talking to me. We had a long talk about football and all.&lt;br /&gt;And even on Wednesday morning he had been fine. But at around 9am, the airport police found him at the taxi queue at changi airport coz he’s taxi wasn’t moving in the queue. He’s heart had already stopped by then. But then the paramedics revived him but since there was no oxygen being sent to his brain after his heart stopped, his brain was damaged. So even if he had survived, he would have remained as a vegetable all his life.&lt;br /&gt;He gradually slipped away, we were there when he passed on, it seemed like some tamil movie, seriously. I still can’t believe it also. Any time I’m expecting him to walk through the door and scold me.&lt;br /&gt;Talking about how he passed on makes me accept and understand the situation better and so thank you so much for asking me. It makes me feel better. And I really think I need time, for everything to sink in coz even if I can accept it, I cannot believe it.&lt;br /&gt;Omggg, I feel like I'm talking too much, really. Take care too Miss Azizah. I seriously cant afford to lose anyone anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanages &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7093736080750106888?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7093736080750106888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7093736080750106888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7093736080750106888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7093736080750106888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/hey-miss-azizah-were-coping-better-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8334665437376742657</id><published>2010-07-13T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T20:10:27.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wow, one week already.&lt;br /&gt;I still can’t believe it, really.&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time I’ve not seen him for a whole week.&lt;br /&gt;When he works longer shifts, at least he’d call.&lt;br /&gt;But now, even that is not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;One week and counting.&lt;br /&gt;More weeks to come and that’s going to have some getting used to.&lt;br /&gt;But thank you to everyone for being here for me; I’d never make it through without all of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8334665437376742657?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8334665437376742657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8334665437376742657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8334665437376742657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8334665437376742657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/wow-one-week-already.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6773940357957948124</id><published>2010-07-10T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T04:03:15.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It has been four days already, and I cant help but wonder how I'm gonna survive the next four months, the next four years.&lt;br /&gt;I still cant beleive it, I just feel like telling random people and tell them how awesome my dad was even though he was such a bitch most of the times.&lt;br /&gt;That's what that made him my dad right? I mean if people as me who my dad was, I can only say this much things coz that was what he was, like how I am, like how everybody has a personality.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know, everything is so confusing, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6773940357957948124?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6773940357957948124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6773940357957948124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6773940357957948124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6773940357957948124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-has-been-four-days-already-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-3018460486782281268</id><published>2010-07-10T03:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T03:52:01.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'll Stand By You"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By: Carrie Underwood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh why you look so sad&lt;br /&gt;The tears are in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Come on and come to me now&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be ashamed to cry&lt;br /&gt;Let me see you through&lt;br /&gt;Cause I’ve seen the dark side too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the night falls on you&lt;br /&gt;You don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Nothing you confess&lt;br /&gt;Could make me love you less&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;Won’t let nobody hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you're mad get mad&lt;br /&gt;Don’t hold it all inside&lt;br /&gt;Come on and talk to me now&lt;br /&gt;Hey, what you got to hide&lt;br /&gt;I get angry too&lt;br /&gt;Well I’m a lot like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're standing at the crossroads&lt;br /&gt;And don't know which path to choose&lt;br /&gt;Let me come along&lt;br /&gt;Cause even if you're wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;Won’t let nobody hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;Take me in into you darkest hour&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll never desert you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when, when the night falls on you, baby&lt;br /&gt;You feeling all alone&lt;br /&gt;You won't be on your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;Won’t let nobody hurt you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;Take me in into you darkest hour&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll never desert you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand by you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-3018460486782281268?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/3018460486782281268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=3018460486782281268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3018460486782281268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3018460486782281268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/ill-stand-by-you-by-carrie-underwood-oh.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-6187566426146294443</id><published>2010-07-07T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T14:29:56.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why so soon?&lt;br /&gt;He hasnt seen me graduate.&lt;br /&gt;He hasnt seen my sister get married.&lt;br /&gt;He hasnt even seen Bala get his PSLE Cert.&lt;br /&gt;Its not fair, its too soon.&lt;br /&gt;He has gone so suddenly, what the hell am I gonna do?&lt;br /&gt;He fucking died.&lt;br /&gt;Appa, I've bitched about you many a times in this blog but I love you and no, you havent died.&lt;br /&gt;You're with me and amma and akka and Bala.&lt;br /&gt;With all of us.&lt;br /&gt;Its just too soon.&lt;br /&gt;May you rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;I'll love you forever and ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-6187566426146294443?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/6187566426146294443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=6187566426146294443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6187566426146294443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/6187566426146294443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/why-so-soon-he-hasnt-seen-me-graduate.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8028695814550946155</id><published>2010-07-04T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T22:37:41.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WTF, Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what's wrong with him.&lt;br /&gt;It has been so long since I talked to him and yes, I miss him alot.&lt;br /&gt;Even if nothing can happen between us, atleast I want us to remain as friends for many many more years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8028695814550946155?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8028695814550946155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8028695814550946155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8028695814550946155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8028695814550946155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/wtf-seriously-i-have-no-idea-whats.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-3245728460311426553</id><published>2010-07-04T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T01:16:46.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;Billionaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;By: Bruno Mars &amp;amp; Travis McCoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bruno Mars]&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be a billionaire so fricking bad&lt;br /&gt;Buy all of the things I never had&lt;br /&gt;Uh, I wanna be on the cover of Forbes magazine&lt;br /&gt;Smiling next to Oprah and the Queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Oh every time I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I see my name in shining lights&lt;br /&gt;A different city every night oh&lt;br /&gt;I swear the world better prepare&lt;br /&gt;For when I’m a billionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Travis "Travie" McCoy]&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I would have a show like Oprah&lt;br /&gt;I would be the host of, everyday Christmas&lt;br /&gt;Give Travie a wish list&lt;br /&gt;I’d probably pull an Angelina and Brad Pitt&lt;br /&gt;And adopt a bunch of babies that ain’t never had sh-t&lt;br /&gt;Give away a few Mercedes like here lady have this&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least grant somebody their last wish&lt;br /&gt;Its been a couple months since I’ve single so&lt;br /&gt;You can call me Travie Claus minus the Ho Ho&lt;br /&gt;Get it, hehe, I’d probably visit where Katrina hit&lt;br /&gt;And damn sure do a lot more than FEMA did&lt;br /&gt;Yeah can’t forget about me stupid&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere I go Imma have my own theme music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Travie Mccoy Billionaire lyrics found on http://www.directlyrics.com.com/travie-mccoy-billionaire-lyrics.html&lt;br /&gt;Oh every time I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I see my name in shining lights&lt;br /&gt;A different city every night oh&lt;br /&gt;I swear the world better prepare&lt;br /&gt;For when I’m a billionaire&lt;br /&gt;Oh oooh oh oooh for when I’m a Billionaire&lt;br /&gt;Oh oooh oh oooh for when I’m a Billionaire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Travis "Travie" McCoy]&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be playing basketball with the President&lt;br /&gt;Dunking on his delegates&lt;br /&gt;Then I’ll compliment him on his political etiquette&lt;br /&gt;Toss a couple milli in the air just for the heck of it&lt;br /&gt;But keep the fives, twentys (?) completely separate&lt;br /&gt;And yeah I’ll be in a whole new tax bracket&lt;br /&gt;We in recession but let me take a crack at it&lt;br /&gt;I’ll probably take whatevers left and just split it up&lt;br /&gt;So everybody that I love can have a couple bucks&lt;br /&gt;And not a single tummy around me would know what hungry was&lt;br /&gt;Eating good sleeping soundly&lt;br /&gt;I know we all have a similar dream&lt;br /&gt;Go in your pocket pull out your wallet&lt;br /&gt;And put it in the air and sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bruno Mars]&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be a billionaire so fricking bad&lt;br /&gt;Buy all of the things I never had&lt;br /&gt;Uh, I wanna be on the cover of Forbes magazine&lt;br /&gt;Smiling next to Oprah and the Queen&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be a billionaire so frickin bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-3245728460311426553?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/3245728460311426553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=3245728460311426553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3245728460311426553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/3245728460311426553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/07/billionaire-by-bruno-mars-travis-mccoy.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5773348370942421557</id><published>2010-06-30T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T22:38:57.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, this is getting to me, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5773348370942421557?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5773348370942421557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5773348370942421557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5773348370942421557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5773348370942421557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/okay-this-is-getting-to-me-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1265308558655335389</id><published>2010-06-30T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T20:09:02.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel so weird.&lt;br /&gt;Like I'm so sick and I still cant go to the doctor's.&lt;br /&gt;I simply hate my dad, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1265308558655335389?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1265308558655335389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1265308558655335389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1265308558655335389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1265308558655335389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-feel-so-weird.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9190024548608752821</id><published>2010-06-29T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T06:59:10.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and loves you anyway. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;even your shrink. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Barbara Alpert &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;My most favourite sister Quote. I simply love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9190024548608752821?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9190024548608752821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9190024548608752821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9190024548608752821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9190024548608752821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/she-is-your-mirror-shining-back-at-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5800318482671493452</id><published>2010-06-28T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T21:13:53.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The difference between poly life and secoundary school?&lt;br /&gt;The grades system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 71 would have meant an A in secondary school, however, sadly, in poly, its a freaking B.&lt;br /&gt;Also a 66 would have meant a B but here, its a C.&lt;br /&gt;So, no matter how fun polytechnic life maybe, it still sucks to a certain percent. And you know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to three more years in pain and love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xoxo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5800318482671493452?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5800318482671493452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5800318482671493452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5800318482671493452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5800318482671493452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/difference-between-poly-life-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-168164195005812858</id><published>2010-06-28T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T21:08:41.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;Bust your windows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;By: Amber Riley (gLee)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;I bust the windows out your car&lt;br /&gt;And though it didn't mend my broken heart&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably always have these ugly scars&lt;br /&gt;But right now I don't care about that part.&lt;br /&gt;I bust the windows out your car&lt;br /&gt;After I saw you looking right at her&lt;br /&gt;I didn't wanna but I took my turn&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I did it cuz you had to learn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit it helped a little bit&lt;br /&gt;To think of how you'd felt when you saw it&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that I had that much strength&lt;br /&gt;But I'm glad you see what happens when&lt;br /&gt;You see you can't just play with peoples feelings&lt;br /&gt;Tell them you love them and don't mean it&lt;br /&gt;You'll probably say that it was juvenile&lt;br /&gt;But I think that I deserve to smile ha, ha, ha, ha, ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bust the windows out ya car&lt;br /&gt;You know I did it cuz I left my mark&lt;br /&gt;Wrote my initials with the crowbar&lt;br /&gt;And then I drove off into the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bust the windows out ya car ha,&lt;br /&gt;You should feel lucky that was all I did&lt;br /&gt;After 5 whole years of this bullshit&lt;br /&gt;Gave you all of me and you played with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit it helped a little bit&lt;br /&gt;To think of how you'd feel when you saw it&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that I had that much strength&lt;br /&gt;But I'm glad you see what happens when&lt;br /&gt;You see you can't just play with peoples feelings&lt;br /&gt;Tell them you love them but don't mean it&lt;br /&gt;You probably say that it was juvenile&lt;br /&gt;But I think that I deserve to smile&lt;br /&gt;Bust windows out your car&lt;br /&gt;But it don't come back to my broken heart&lt;br /&gt;You could neva feel I how I felt that day&lt;br /&gt;Until it happens baby you don't know pain&lt;br /&gt;Ooh Yeah I did it (yeah I did it)&lt;br /&gt;You should know it (you should know it)&lt;br /&gt;I ain't sorry (I ain't sorry)&lt;br /&gt;You deserved it (you deserved it)&lt;br /&gt;After what you did to me (after what you did)&lt;br /&gt;You deserve it (you deserve it)&lt;br /&gt;I ain't sorry no no ohhh(I aint sorry)&lt;br /&gt;You broke my heart so I broke you car&lt;br /&gt;You caused me pain (you caused me pain)&lt;br /&gt;(So I did the same)&lt;br /&gt;Even though what you did to me was much worse&lt;br /&gt;I had to do something to make you hurt&lt;br /&gt;Oh but why am I still crying&lt;br /&gt;Why am I the one who's still crying&lt;br /&gt;Oh oh you really hurt me baby&lt;br /&gt;You really, you really hurt me baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey hey hey hey hey&lt;br /&gt;Now watch me you&lt;br /&gt;Now watch me&lt;br /&gt;Oooh I bust the windows out your car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-168164195005812858?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/168164195005812858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=168164195005812858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/168164195005812858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/168164195005812858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/bust-your-windows-by-amber-riley-glee-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5969713474002182063</id><published>2010-06-28T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T06:29:08.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hazel eyes&lt;br /&gt;By: Kelly Clarkson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like just yesterday, you were a part of me&lt;br /&gt;I used to stand so tall, I used to be so strong&lt;br /&gt;Your arms around me tight, everything it felt so right&lt;br /&gt;Unbreakable, like nothing could go wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can't breathe, no I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;I'm barely hanging on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, once again&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn into pieces, can't deny it, can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;Just thought you were the one&lt;br /&gt;Broken up, deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But you won't get to see the tears I cry&lt;br /&gt;Behind these hazel eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told you everything, opened up and let you in&lt;br /&gt;You made me feel alright, for once in my life&lt;br /&gt;Now all that's left of me is what I pretend to be&lt;br /&gt;So together, but so broken up inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I can't breathe, no I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;I'm barely hanging on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, once again&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn into pieces, can't deny it, can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;Just thought you were the one&lt;br /&gt;Broken up, deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But you won't get to see the tears I cry&lt;br /&gt;Behind these hazel eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swallow me, then spit me out&lt;br /&gt;For hating you, I blame myself&lt;br /&gt;Seeing you, it kills me now&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't cry on the outside anymore&lt;br /&gt;Anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, once again&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn into pieces, can't deny it, can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;Just thought you were the one&lt;br /&gt;Broken up, deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But you won't get to see the tears I cry&lt;br /&gt;Behind these hazel eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, once again&lt;br /&gt;I'm torn into pieces, can't deny it, can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;Just thought you were the one&lt;br /&gt;Broken up, deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But you won't get to see the tears I cry&lt;br /&gt;Behind these hazel eyes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5969713474002182063?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5969713474002182063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5969713474002182063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5969713474002182063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5969713474002182063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/hazel-eyes-by-kelly-clarkson-seems-like.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7307653319074045390</id><published>2010-06-26T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T09:08:42.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I’m just a small town girl, waiting for my break.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I want to be someone in life.&lt;br /&gt;I want to achieve something in this lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;Something big.&lt;br /&gt;There’s like a huge gaping abyss somewhere and it doesn’t feel good at all.&lt;br /&gt;It makes me weak and miserable.&lt;br /&gt;I want to find a cure for it soon.&lt;br /&gt;I may sound dumb or lame, but this is what I want so stand by it or get lost.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I have no idea what I’m talking but something big is going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;Just wait and see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7307653319074045390?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7307653319074045390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7307653319074045390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7307653319074045390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7307653319074045390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-just-small-town-girl-waiting-for-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5518189201228237215</id><published>2010-06-26T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T08:54:56.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;A lunar eclipse occurs when the moon passes behind the earth such that the earth blocks the sun’s rays from striking the moon.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I saw the greatest lunar eclipse from my window today. It looked beautiful and felt awesome but at the same time, real freaky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It feels weird but everyone in the world, sees the same moon but yet, we're so different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Too different, actually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The realisation struck me with a blow.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5518189201228237215?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5518189201228237215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5518189201228237215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5518189201228237215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5518189201228237215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/lunar-eclipse-occurs-when-moon-passes.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1012597499237330934</id><published>2010-06-25T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T06:13:42.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hi. I bet my previous post made me sound so desperate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well I'm not, I was just merely stating the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Actually I feel alot like Mercedes Jones from Glee. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But dont even think about it. Never am I gonna fall for a gay guy, no offence meant please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I should be studying now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I feel troubled, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Maybe I am pmsing but who cares, I am feeling cranky so, go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hahaha, I sound like a threat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Okay I'm talking cock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Should I go on omegle?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The last time I went on there, it was someone from India.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You: Hello.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stranger: Hi.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You: Asl plz? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stranger: Asl.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stranger: 20 m India&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You: 17 f Singapore&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stranger: What's your name?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You: Kanages&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your conversation partner has disconnected.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Yeah, he disconnected at the sight of my name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;And I got scolded for watching vampire diaries, apparently they're sleazy and there's too much sex and I'm like, whatever, seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Btw, Damon is hottt. Stefan is hotterrrr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Oh yeah, RIP MJ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;How was it like to die?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Should have felt good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Haha, I finally plucked up the courage to join CASS Idol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Yes, email is sent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Okay, I'm gonna go watch vampire diaries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;No studying today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Will do that tomorrow, meeting the babez for Design Basics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Oh yeah, is there rehearsal tomorrow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;God, I actually miss going for rehearsals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Well, Adious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I guess this is how you feel when the world goes upside down and turns against you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1012597499237330934?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1012597499237330934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1012597499237330934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1012597499237330934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1012597499237330934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/hi.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4685948165243288317</id><published>2010-06-21T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T00:10:38.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The urge and desire to be with a man is overwhelming me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, I want a man in my life, so freaking bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I bet I sound all desperate but hey, I doubt any guy has a single crush on me for atleast an hour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;What's wrong with me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am smart, witty, funny, adorable and pretty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sounds like I'm perfect but isnt that the whole point?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Someone who thinks I'm perfect and flawless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The only disadvantage that's so freaking obvious is my weight, or more likely, my physical appearance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am fat, no one's denying that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But how can guys be so naive and use that as a reason to think, and not to know but think, I'm a turnoff?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I know of so many guys say I'm pretty, hot, special to them, blah, blah, blah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Of course, they're my friends only.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm that funny girl next door who bakes you cookies and makes them smile and tell them they are still loved when their girlfriend of god know how many years ditches you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm so sick of being that. Of being special and feel beautiful but dont feel it at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I wanna be that special someone who makes me laugh and my eyes sparkle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I think soon enough, even bff, who looks more gorgeous day by day will get kissed and I'll be the only member of the Never Been Kissed club.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeking the love of my life, never knew it'd be such a hassle.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4685948165243288317?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4685948165243288317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4685948165243288317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4685948165243288317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4685948165243288317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/urge-and-desire-to-be-with-man-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2513696240964878605</id><published>2010-06-21T03:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T03:42:04.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I asked my bestfriend why she likes me and this is what she said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Do I even have to explain why I like you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You're like, THE best, and I'm not even joking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love how you're always there to listen when I need it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love that sometimes you just get me when no one else does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love how you're such a strong person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love meeting up with you because I know for sure I'm gonna have a good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love how hardworking you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love that I can tell you anything and I dont feel judged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love that you're a better person than I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I'd go on la, but I veh lazy, haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I love you! ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;That's one of the sweetest things someone has ever told me and trust me, its only that now, I realise I make quite an impact on ppl. I mean, I know I'm a happy person and I love everyone though I've never expected anything in return. But today, it made me realise that ppl love me as much as I do or even more. And I am something to special to them. Like the time Puteri wrote about how much she missed me in her status. That was so very sweet. And I thought she was the only one but throughout the year till now, many have been appreciating me and I've never felt better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And till now, I've always thought that I was just that someone, who made ppl smile randomly and suddenly it dawned on me that I smile throughout the day, not only because I wanna be happy but coz someone made smile. Be it taking the bus with my sister or Faris telling me I look pretty or Ferd threatening to push me down the track or Joanne complaining about how her crush never noticed her or Bella telling me she loves me or getting a random msg from Aida telling me she misses me or a cute stranger checking me out or just a smile from the MRT attendant, it makes my day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;How stupid of me to have never noticed that? But hey, I see it now and thanks to all those who have made a difference in my life in one way or another. And of course, Avery big thank you to Naz Aida to have finally made me realise that I am loved, not only by family and friends but by all. Xoxo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Love you all so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;♥Kanages &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;210610&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2513696240964878605?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2513696240964878605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2513696240964878605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2513696240964878605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2513696240964878605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-asked-my-bestfriend-why-shen-likes-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-1337716379698198177</id><published>2010-06-16T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T00:18:02.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Will you cry if I kill myself?&lt;br /&gt;Or if i just die?&lt;br /&gt;Will you cry because you feel sorry for me?&lt;br /&gt;Or because you feel sorry for my family?&lt;br /&gt;Or because you dont know how you're going to cope with the loss?&lt;br /&gt;Haha, dont worry, I want kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;I was just, you know, thinking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-1337716379698198177?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/1337716379698198177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=1337716379698198177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1337716379698198177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/1337716379698198177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/will-you-cry-if-i-kill-myself-or-if-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7117651967861682790</id><published>2010-06-16T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T00:12:16.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dont get it, I just dont get it.&lt;br /&gt;Everything's so screwd up.&lt;br /&gt;And I dont know why.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna blame him for everything.&lt;br /&gt;But is everything he's fault?&lt;br /&gt;Is he the reason for every fucked up thing?&lt;br /&gt;I feel so confused and fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's going right.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like giving up.&lt;br /&gt;I dont wanan go through this again.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so fucking troubled.&lt;br /&gt;I have no patience or whatsoever for all this.&lt;br /&gt;If you're feeling down, I also have all fucking rights to feel fucked up and unwanted.&lt;br /&gt;She didnt think about me too.&lt;br /&gt;And you're the only thing I have.&lt;br /&gt;How could you just tell me that you wont die and will come back.&lt;br /&gt;If you feel unloved, I feel more that way.&lt;br /&gt;Atleast, you have a sister who loves you dearly and will give her life for you.&lt;br /&gt;But for me, even my sister is not understanding me.&lt;br /&gt;That feeling sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Like you're alone and nothing matters and you feel like dying.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like dying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7117651967861682790?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7117651967861682790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7117651967861682790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7117651967861682790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7117651967861682790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-dont-get-it-i-just-dont-get-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-4158552044821822612</id><published>2010-06-15T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T23:31:54.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want someone to hold me, and tell me I smell good.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to hug me from the behind, play with my hair and whisper in my ear and make me giggle.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to hold my hands and say I'll never let go.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to look into my eyes and never get bored.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to laugh at me when I mess up.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to scold me when I err.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to advise me when I'm dead confused on what to do.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to cry to when everything's so screwd up at home.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to lend his shoulder when I need it.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to wipe away my tears and tell me it's all going to be okay.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to look at me and say you look beautiful even when I look like a lorry just ran over me.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to just talk to me on the phone all night long about nothing in particular.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to make me smile even when I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;I want someone to just be there and love me with all his heart and never expect anything in return at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just neeed that someone to lift me off the ground and spin me higher and higher.&lt;br /&gt;I dont wanna sound desperate but I need him and whoever you are, come to me soon.&lt;br /&gt;I just cant wait any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;160610 @ 02.31pm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-4158552044821822612?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/4158552044821822612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=4158552044821822612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4158552044821822612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/4158552044821822612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-want-someone-to-hold-me-and-tell-me-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-9008004808565144384</id><published>2010-06-14T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T08:02:47.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate you so fucking much.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, mom gets upset over nothing and everything.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, we're fighting.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I cry myself to sleep almost everynight, thinking about how screwd up my life is.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I feel poor.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I feel embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, My mother had to forget about peace.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, My sister has to suffer.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, My brother lost his childhood.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I'm vary of men.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I feel like doing wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;Because of you, I feel like a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much I tell myself I'm not going to be bothered by you, ypu give me painful reminders through your actions that I hate you so much. I wish I never had a father like you. I'd rather have no father than have one and feel so lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you talk to me in english coz i fucking know you're not alone.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you give me crocodile tears and say you love us.&lt;br /&gt;Because I know that just 5 minutes later, you'll be doing or thinking about something that would contradict the statement.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you discipline me coz I know what kinda discipline brought you up like that.&lt;br /&gt;I hate the sweet nothings you tell my mom that is so fake that makes me wanna bleed.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you lie that you overslept when deep down, I know you were up to something.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you do all the fucking crimes in the world and then you justify it by telling mom that you had not done something out of the blue and it was perfectly normal to do so and she also beleives it.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when I feel so ashamed to be your daughter and you still claim to be a proud father of three.&lt;br /&gt;I despise the fact that, after all that we've done, you still have the cheek to curse us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason for my anger.&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason for my hatred.&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason for my tears.&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason for our downfall and screwd up life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my villian, dad.&lt;br /&gt;And I hate you with all of my life.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so fucking much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-9008004808565144384?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/9008004808565144384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=9008004808565144384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9008004808565144384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/9008004808565144384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-hate-you-so-fucking-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-2403689057593463401</id><published>2010-06-09T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T22:57:49.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel loved alright, I got ROSES, 3 ROSES from my lovely lady friends! I love them so many many much! I also got earrings and charm bracelets and ket chains and so many cards. Hahahah, so sweetttttt of them!!! I love them all so much! DMC/1A/04 rocks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;1.57pm @100693&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-2403689057593463401?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/2403689057593463401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=2403689057593463401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2403689057593463401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/2403689057593463401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-feel-loved-alright-i-got-roses-3.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-662075980861898797</id><published>2010-06-09T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T19:49:43.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ITS MY BIRTHDAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing queen, young and sweet, only 17!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised at 12 midnight by my whole family with a cake and candles and stuff and an awesome card with wishes from everyone. It was just so sweet of them.&lt;br /&gt;So many ppl have wished me and I'm thinking to myself, so sweet of these pplz. I feel so loved.♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;♥Kanages&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;10.49am @ 100610&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-662075980861898797?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/662075980861898797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=662075980861898797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/662075980861898797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/662075980861898797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-my-birthday-dancing-queen-young-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-8826594793506122289</id><published>2010-06-03T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T01:16:24.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Woah. Did you see the look on his face?&lt;br /&gt;It was so lit up and happy. Like he was in heaven.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hundred and one percent sure he was talking with her or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;This is just so irritating because this is not his fault, or mine.&lt;br /&gt;So being angry is not the right thing to feel.&lt;br /&gt;I should just live with what I have and whenever he smiles at me, I'll return the smile with a genuine smile, thinking that it was never meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;Though I feel like screaming at him to talk to me like he does to her, it'll never happen because he doesnt love me.&lt;br /&gt;He'll never hold my hand and tell me he loves me, because he doesnt.&lt;br /&gt;He'll never walk me home when its late at night, because he doesnt want.&lt;br /&gt;He'll never kiss me goodnight and say i'll dream of you because he wont.&lt;br /&gt;And I dont care, though that's a lie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-8826594793506122289?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/8826594793506122289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=8826594793506122289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8826594793506122289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/8826594793506122289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/woah.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-7072359320796474117</id><published>2010-06-02T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T22:43:30.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wtf is wrong with him?&lt;br /&gt;Go tee jong yourself la.&lt;br /&gt;Stupid ass.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's going right.&lt;br /&gt;From love to school to home to future,&lt;br /&gt;nothing's right at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-7072359320796474117?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/7072359320796474117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=7072359320796474117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7072359320796474117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/7072359320796474117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/06/wtf-is-wrong-with-him-go-tee-jong.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-907698334333279924</id><published>2010-05-26T23:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T23:52:21.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After a long fucking time, i had someone comment abt my weight.&lt;br /&gt;And it wasnt nice. I feel real weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-907698334333279924?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/907698334333279924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=907698334333279924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/907698334333279924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/907698334333279924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/05/after-long-fucking-time-i-had-someone.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023247147761393864.post-5109048912101771342</id><published>2010-05-16T22:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T22:54:27.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, no false alarm. I really broke it off.&lt;br /&gt;I feel better, lighter.&lt;br /&gt;And I think Afq is so annoying.&lt;br /&gt;He went and told Wei ming that I am nice, bubbly but my size so big.&lt;br /&gt;WTF right?&lt;br /&gt;Irritant.&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I hate Faris! ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7023247147761393864-5109048912101771342?l=kanalicious.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/feeds/5109048912101771342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7023247147761393864&amp;postID=5109048912101771342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5109048912101771342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7023247147761393864/posts/default/5109048912101771342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanalicious.blogspot.com/2010/05/okay-no-false-alarm.html' title=''/><author><name>Kanages</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16704197889819168801</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUa4zNoUQgc/TCYj0UC7C7I/AAAAAAAAAIc/jTeLRQdYrTc/S220/P10-06-10_17.35%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
