<?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-2537256070070078620</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:46:25.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>★ じょあっな の そら</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>じょあっな</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02309130528716483533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_tTAzCXBUZA/Tua3SHDb2BI/AAAAAAAAF8w/fUumDl_0s0o/s220/200483_1628126942296_1210236848_31317663_7347022_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537256070070078620.post-9221952191730895323</id><published>2011-05-22T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T09:42:24.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;p&gt;I finally have a companion to seriously work out with me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He just bought a new pair of Nike shoes today. That excited bugger. (smirks)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Did a 4km yesterday after ONE YEAR OF NON-JOGGING.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Did another 4km today WITH a 200m sprint. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ah f*ck. That dude is 2 times my speed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OTL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I need to get back into shape. My thighs are aching. I keep stumbling everywhere. I've reached way beyond my limit today. But I kept pushing. The wonderful feeling of the presence of someone that appreciates you, and that awesome feeling of running again. It pushed him out of my head. I'm actually quite happy now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I gave in to God. Like,finally. I didn't wanna rebel anymore. I deserve someone better. Right now, I have two times the motivation to be better. He can't change anything. He did me a favour in fact. So,I went to church today. Pastor Prince is way awesome. I feel uncomfortable at City Harvest before.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I really wanted to walk, but I ended up running. Despite the massive aches from last night's jog. PLUS a whole day waddling around in 3 inch heels. Designer boots yo! But I couldn't walk any longer. He ,his mum and I went to shop for a pair of flats which I am comfortable in. I grinned like an idiot all the way home. Nyohohohohohohoho&amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its time I give a chance to other people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cleared his desk today. *smirks*&lt;br /&gt;I turned his Nike shoe box into book rack. With a little art, I made a utensils compartment. Organized his messy, messy books. =)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And he spoils me with food.&lt;br /&gt;I like the way how things are now. Honestly, I did not know how we get here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His family treats me really nice. He treats me way different from &lt;em&gt;him.&lt;/em&gt; I feel so PAMPERED. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, I am afraid of commitment now. It scares me. And its gonna be hell with my family side. They'd never approve it. (sigh) The last time I gave my all to a guy, I ended up let down. Very,very badly. It was a double hit. Even worse, the truth of what he hid from me killed me. I died the night I found out about it. My heart just...died. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And its sad...that he probably doesn't give a shit about it. All he thinks of is to be free and find other girls to excite him. All those years...meant &lt;em&gt;nothing &lt;/em&gt;to &lt;em&gt;him. &lt;/em&gt;I would have understood. Well, fuck him. So not worth my time. I will get over him. Its just a matter of time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like I said, things are going fine the way I like them now. And I feel happy again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2537256070070078620-9221952191730895323?l=triple-damn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/feeds/9221952191730895323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-finally-have-companion-to-seriously.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/9221952191730895323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/9221952191730895323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-finally-have-companion-to-seriously.html' title=''/><author><name>じょあっな</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02309130528716483533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_tTAzCXBUZA/Tua3SHDb2BI/AAAAAAAAF8w/fUumDl_0s0o/s220/200483_1628126942296_1210236848_31317663_7347022_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537256070070078620.post-563999878082965646</id><published>2011-03-31T02:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T02:09:06.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-top: 8px; margin-right: 12px; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; background-image: url(http://assets.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.4; font-weight: normal; background-position: 50% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; "&gt;&lt;p&gt;You won't even tell me you love me anymore. Another thing to get over with. How many times must I get stabbed over and over with?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2537256070070078620-563999878082965646?l=triple-damn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/feeds/563999878082965646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2011/03/you-wont-even-tell-me-you-love-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/563999878082965646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/563999878082965646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2011/03/you-wont-even-tell-me-you-love-me.html' title=''/><author><name>じょあっな</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02309130528716483533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_tTAzCXBUZA/Tua3SHDb2BI/AAAAAAAAF8w/fUumDl_0s0o/s220/200483_1628126942296_1210236848_31317663_7347022_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537256070070078620.post-4659605259380534712</id><published>2010-03-27T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T05:37:26.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#1</title><content type='html'>"Get your filthy hands off me,you &lt;em&gt;IDIOT!&lt;/em&gt;" I growled dangerously to my captor behind me.&lt;br /&gt;Apparantly,he had both my wrists locked behind my back in a rather firm grip for a boy of six.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fat chance." He chuckled from behind. "You're my prisoner now,and you're going to do as I say from now on"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My captor who goes by the name Kaito,happened to be my childhood friend.I had NO IDEA at all why god had to make my life so miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rolled my eyes,annoyed. He just &lt;em&gt;loves &lt;/em&gt;playing cop-catches-the-criminal.And I ALWAYS ended up being the bad guy. How fair was that? But I had to play along,else he'd sulk all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kaito,just what on &lt;em&gt;earth &lt;/em&gt;do you think you're doing? Let this poor girl go. I shall not have bullying in my class" ,a middle-aged woman growled right infront of me. It was our Music Teacher, Miss Ebina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inwardly,I sighed in relief.My hands were free again.&lt;br /&gt;I turned,ready to smirk at Kaito,but he was already walking away.&lt;br /&gt;Sulking,most probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaito and I had known each other since...like,we were born. That was because our mothers knew each other well. I sometimes hoped they dint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the same kindergarten. (god save my soul) and then the same elementary school.&lt;br /&gt;My days were miserable,as he was always in my sight,smirking at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However,those days were over. Kaito was transfered to another school elsewhere-&lt;em&gt;due to the fact that he couldnt keep up with the never-ending mountain of homeworks we receive everyday or so I heard. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was the last time I'd ever heard from him.&lt;br /&gt;Just like that,he'd vanished from my life. You've had &lt;em&gt;NO IDEA at all &lt;/em&gt;how relieved I was.&lt;br /&gt;I was free.&lt;br /&gt;No more fighting.&lt;br /&gt;No more hair-pulling.&lt;br /&gt;No more silly games.&lt;br /&gt;Best of all? I dint have to put up with his sulky face anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little version of myself ,put on a smiley face and embraced elementary school life with open arms, along with three of my favourite male cousins whom I had slept / ate / bathed and done homework together with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2537256070070078620-4659605259380534712?l=triple-damn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/feeds/4659605259380534712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2010/03/1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/4659605259380534712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2537256070070078620/posts/default/4659605259380534712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triple-damn.blogspot.com/2010/03/1.html' title='#1'/><author><name>じょあっな</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02309130528716483533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_tTAzCXBUZA/Tua3SHDb2BI/AAAAAAAAF8w/fUumDl_0s0o/s220/200483_1628126942296_1210236848_31317663_7347022_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
