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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza</id>
  <title>Nancyboy,</title>
  <subtitle>Syaza (curly)</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Syaza (curly)</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-10-08T02:04:32Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="17189461" username="emerg3nza" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:7355</id>
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    <title>emerg3nza @ 2009-10-08T10:01:00</title>
    <published>2009-10-08T02:04:32Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-08T02:04:32Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It &lt;em&gt;sucks&lt;/em&gt; to care&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:6999</id>
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    <title>emerg3nza @ 2009-09-02T23:55:00</title>
    <published>2009-09-02T16:00:19Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-02T16:00:19Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Sir Edmund Hillary&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:6854</id>
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    <title>People Of Different Faiths</title>
    <published>2009-09-01T01:47:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-01T01:50:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Things that meant so much to me before now do not matter anymore. We all get tired and weak at some point in time, even when we know we can&amp;rsquo;t just stop there. I read somewhere that &amp;lsquo;rarely do you get something when you want it too much.&amp;rsquo; I&amp;rsquo;m tired of trying to get the right balance on the pendulum. I fear that I am resting too much. I hate that I&amp;rsquo;m feeling so comfortable, knowing that I&amp;rsquo;ll regret this later on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;Sometimes I feel like a chameleon, having to adapt here and there, and back. Adapting, then suddenly saying goodbye, as if my heart is merely a joke.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;We all get tired some point in time. But I will still chase my dreams. The wind will blow and shake you. But you have to remain rooted to the ground.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:6132</id>
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    <title>emerg3nza @ 2009-07-19T22:44:00</title>
    <published>2009-07-19T14:45:47Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-19T14:45:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If it hurts, just let it go.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:5841</id>
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    <title>emerg3nza @ 2009-07-06T13:24:00</title>
    <published>2009-07-06T06:07:58Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-06T06:07:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00008h7q/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" style="width: 684px; height: 251px" alt="" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00008h7q/s320x240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:5400</id>
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    <title>Damsel In Distress</title>
    <published>2009-06-30T16:37:06Z</published>
    <updated>2009-06-30T16:37:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">You cannot fight nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least that's the cynical way of looking at things. We all know how it feels like&amp;nbsp;to miss a bus when we're running late, to fail a test even when we've tried our best, or to find out our crush was really all the while attached. And we all know what it's like to be on top of the world and then to have our spirits suddenly&amp;nbsp;dampened because of one damn occurence. Sometimes, when i get so immuned to little 'bad' occurences, i begin to predict life. I would forsee myself in bad situations, such that i would prepare myself&amp;nbsp;for the worst, but never the best. Most of the time, it works easier that way because then, I would have nothing to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't believe that life is supposed to work this way. Which is why I will no longer try to fight nature but instead, try to work with it. Missing a bus does not compare to missing a loved one and failing a test does not compare to failing in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about time that I start counting my blessings and make the best of what I have around me. Because when life pulls you along, sometimes, you just have to let go and let nature take it's course.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:5358</id>
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    <title>This is life and you must live it</title>
    <published>2009-05-26T09:09:15Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-26T09:09:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Be faithful to the one you love or claim to love anyway.&amp;nbsp;You don't know what you've got till it's gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:5013</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/5013.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=5013"/>
    <title>"You make decisions and you don't look back..."</title>
    <published>2009-05-04T13:33:45Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-04T13:35:53Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;There are things which I do now&amp;nbsp;which I know i'll regret later. But I do these things anyway because they make me feel better, maybe even&amp;nbsp;just for a little while. I'm beginning too see a pattern in my daily rituals. My greatest fear has evolved, where the things I try not to do have become the daily norm.&amp;nbsp;My&amp;nbsp;English&amp;nbsp;is broken, and so is my spirit.&amp;nbsp;I miss a whole lot of things and yet there's this part of me that has moved on. I guess this is growing up.&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:4686</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/4686.html"/>
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    <title>Edwrd Kolen</title>
    <published>2009-04-26T13:24:07Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-26T13:24:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Don't say sorry if you're going to keep making the same mistakes. Sorry everyone if i've changed.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:4242</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/4242.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=4242"/>
    <title>Only One</title>
    <published>2009-04-01T15:49:52Z</published>
    <updated>2009-04-01T15:49:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I will promise to stop being a pushover if 'Yellowcard'&amp;nbsp;comes to Singapore and no, this is not an&amp;nbsp;April fools' joke.&amp;nbsp;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:3591</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/3591.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3591"/>
    <title>Exit</title>
    <published>2009-03-27T15:27:52Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-27T15:27:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">When you miss the train, and show up late for work, you will make a point not to miss it the next time around. You will use up all your energy and&amp;nbsp;you will&amp;nbsp;push the person in front of you (if you have to) just so that you can slide into the cabin&amp;nbsp;a millisecond before the door slowly shuts behind you. You missed the previous train. Don't you think that&amp;nbsp;you're trying too hard to get on this one?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:3169</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/3169.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=3169"/>
    <title>To Write Love On Her Arms</title>
    <published>2009-03-09T15:53:27Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-09T15:53:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center"&gt;Friends I can&amp;nbsp; keep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br type="_moz" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:2998</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/2998.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2998"/>
    <title>Pressure</title>
    <published>2009-02-25T16:52:04Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-25T16:52:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;I have always looked up to those able to accept themselves for who they really are. So rare, to find people satisfied with the way they were born. So beautiful to see people love themselves. I have never been too happy with my appearance, and I can't quite put my finger on &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt;. So what do you see when you look into the mirror? I see an obese person no one wants to love.&amp;nbsp;That said,&amp;nbsp;I hope you see what you want to see in the mirror. Everyone deserves a good share of self-esteem these days...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:2397</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/2397.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2397"/>
    <title>In Sickness And In Health</title>
    <published>2009-01-06T13:56:10Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-06T13:56:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Have you ever placed something, somewhere only to find it missing a few minutes later? Or have you spent hours looking for an item, confident that it's somewhere in the house? When we lose something, we tend to fashion a position in our minds, as to where we have last left the item. I've just spent hours looking for my camera and I've spent months looking for my cat. I've also spent quite some time looking for 'the light at the end of the tunnel'. But how can you find something when it Isn't there in the first place.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:2175</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/2175.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=2175"/>
    <title>Please</title>
    <published>2009-01-04T02:58:43Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-04T03:05:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00007stg/"&gt;&lt;img height="225" border="0" width="300" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00007stg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just gotten off one of my many long rides on the train, this time slightly more weary from all the traveling. I was observing a man, possibly in his thirties, who had the glow happy people usually possess. Garbed well in subtle colours, the man had the aura of an easy-going person. He held a book in his hands, red cover with Chinese lettering's, a comic, I'm guessing because he broke into smiles a couple of times. And when he got tired, he closed first the book, then his eyes. Even as he slept, there was a faint smile playing on his lips. Wouldn't it be nice to be that happy? Results day just around the corner, our days of freedom are inevitably numbered. Haven't been able to do much these days. All I feel like doing is to fall asleep. &lt;em&gt;That's how children deal with terror, They fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:1983</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/1983.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1983"/>
    <title>Kekasih gelapku</title>
    <published>2008-12-24T06:49:56Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-24T06:49:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;spacemangs; says:&lt;br /&gt;sooffee is here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spacemangs; says:&lt;br /&gt;he says hi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syaza says:&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAH hi soofee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syaza says:&lt;br /&gt;wassup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spacemangs; says:&lt;br /&gt;SOOFEE says: hello poser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syaza says:&lt;br /&gt;hey loser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spacemangs; says:&lt;br /&gt;say peopl say ur self&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:1524</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/1524.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1524"/>
    <title>Wish I Was Having This Much Fun</title>
    <published>2008-12-06T02:13:36Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-06T02:13:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/babyfez/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/babyfez/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00005tzk/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00005tzk/s320x240" style="width: 434px; height: 434px;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:1250</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/1250.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1250"/>
    <title>Are we Human</title>
    <published>2008-12-04T03:15:28Z</published>
    <updated>2008-12-04T03:15:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few days back, I was at Kuala Lumpur with my mum and my brother. The trip was to celebrate my mum's birthday but I believe it was for another purpose, that we had gone to Kl, instead, to take a breather. It was quite an experience. The night life there exhilarates you, makes you want to join in the fun. Despite doing minimal shopping, and gaining a pound or two, I now miss the city. Such high volume, such cheap thrills. Still contemplating if I should visit the place again on the 14th, since the date clashes with the training dates. Never knew a place five hours away could be so different. Compared to Kl, Singapore would bore you to tears...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00001twp/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" border="0" width="320" alt="" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00001twp/s320x240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00004qrb/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" border="0" width="320" alt="" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/00004qrb/s320x240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/0000258z/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" border="0" width="320" alt="" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/0000258z/s320x240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/000033hx/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" border="0" width="320" alt="" src="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/000033hx/s320x240" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My apologies,better pictures the next time around...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/emerg3nza/pic/000033hx/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:emerg3nza:603</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/603.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://emerg3nza.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=603"/>
    <title>I've moved</title>
    <published>2008-11-19T13:13:34Z</published>
    <updated>2008-11-19T13:13:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">For the simple reason that I do not have a love for trance nor do I think that having a love for trance would improve my social circle. Thank you Jessica and Jolene anyway, for creating an account for me. Now despite the fact that I am disabled from the many uses of live-journal, I now have a platform to share my thoughts and maybe, feelings. Please pardon the lack of creativity in having a bland theme, background etc. because as I have said earlier, I am disabled in this department. Add me as a friend if you feel like it! Oh, and not to worry, this blog is no relative of some &amp;quot;Gossip Girl&amp;quot; blog, so do not expect a journal such as the one created a few months back, whose owner has talked about chastity rings when she herself has fucked a shish kebab. Such an unfriendly first post...</content>
  </entry>
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