<?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-3483055704376472870</id><updated>2012-01-31T18:27:30.124+08:00</updated><category term='None'/><title type='text'>Secrets</title><subtitle type='html'>The stars never talk... And they know more secrets than we do.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-1049443232478422544</id><published>2012-01-31T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T18:27:30.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ANGRY</title><content type='html'>The sad thing is that, growing up, I was never an angry person. I didn't give fucks to many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this, anyone would have given fucks. Several, subject to individual characteristics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought of coming home to dinner was so repulsive! I can't concentrate on studying when his face, his &lt;i&gt;finger&lt;/i&gt;, kept popping up in my mind. Fuck that stupid shit, I'm going to leave this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. the Army pays really well. A degree with good honours and above can fetch about $4.5K fresh, and I'm not even mentioning the &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt; ranks that are higher up in the hierarchy structure. On the other hand, a Police Officer seems really good too. The pay is undisclosed for degree holders in the police force, but judging by their salary for dip holders(compared to MINDEF as a benchmark), it seems good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think anything above $1600 take home would be comfortable for me to sustain my lifestyle(or lack thereof). I need broadband for sure($40), a mobile plan($40- thank god it's not in the thousands, huh? :P), some instant noodles/showering stuffs/skincare($60), a room($600~maybe I can get a deal at a friend's house?), and I can keep the others. For savings and 'rainy days', like if I have to change a laptop or my mobile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not angry anymore now that I'm not facing them. Later I might become angry again. Each time I see them, a sense of revolt and anger comes up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-1049443232478422544?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/1049443232478422544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/angry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1049443232478422544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1049443232478422544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/angry.html' title='ANGRY'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-9030062460793375747</id><published>2012-01-31T07:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T07:13:57.065+08:00</updated><title type='text'>30th January 2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sxc.hu/pic/m/d/di/digital_a/131307_fist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.sxc.hu/pic/m/d/di/digital_a/131307_fist.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must not forget what happened last night. I must not forget how they stood by and did nothing, those brainless, stupid wastrels. I was scared he was going to hit me... But I knew what I would be able to do if he did. I think the right way to put it was that I was waiting for it. I was going to dodge, block, whatever, but I really thought it was coming. The way he threatened me, you would think it was coming. Alas, he didn't proceed. Probably because he too knew what would happen to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you feel that sometimes, we are such slaves to material possessions that we let it rule over our lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The computer, the Internet, TV, skincare, clothes, little conveniences here and there(like your mum doing housework for you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so repulsed. Half of these things I don't even need. And he was using those to threaten me. Me! The one who doesn't buy clothes, or shoes, or even go out with friends, who paid for her laptop by herself(yes, I'm proud- &lt;strike&gt;hit&lt;/strike&gt; sue me), who also paid for her mobile by herself(I will be able to live with the cracked screen, trust me), and so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He challenged me to stay with my grandparents. I couldn't show him yesterday, but I was seriously considering. Tiong Bahru is indeed nearer to Lorong Chuan, and if I stay with them I won't get all this emotional bullshit from my father too. And I'm having A Levels this year. Anyone remember, that, grand, &lt;i&gt;huge&lt;/i&gt; exam you're supposed to take for university admission? I already have stresses from school- and I don't want to have that much from the residence as well(especially when it's not my fault) Yes, it isn't. &lt;strike&gt;Hit&lt;/strike&gt; sue me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have to wash my own stuff, iron my own clothes, or do everything for myself to have a general peace of mind, I will. I will give so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't get married. I won't have kids. So what if I'll die early? It would fit right in my plan anyway, much better than if I were to grow old and have no one looking after me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be free, you know? Away from conflicts and entanglements. I hate conflict so so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared someday he might come and kill me. My mom would say he still loves me, but &lt;i&gt;oooooohhhh, realllyyyy&lt;/i&gt;? I know I don't want to have much with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many times I let things pass and made up, and made up, and made up, and have him turn all fucking crazy on me some times later. I'm so tired, I'm not going to play along with him anymore. If he can threaten to hit me, and then claims he loves him, I can kill him and then announce my love for him. Which I am not going to do of course, because that's so stupid and unclassy. Him, now that's different. If he wasn't repulsive, he wouldn't have gotten into as many traffic accidents, all of which were his fault. I thought he would stop being violent, and that &lt;i&gt;it&lt;/i&gt;(so many occasions of '&lt;i&gt;it&lt;/i&gt;', I've lost count) would be his last time, but no. It just happens and happens and happens again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And repulsive people do tend to commit murder, don't they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-9030062460793375747?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/9030062460793375747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/30th-january-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/9030062460793375747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/9030062460793375747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/30th-january-2012.html' title='30th January 2012'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-5060478770526590329</id><published>2012-01-29T20:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T20:22:44.775+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Studying</title><content type='html'>I like the stuff I'm studying, but that doesn't mean I like to study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, whenever I think of the South Africans who queue for days, or scramble through a stampede just to secure university places, how can I bear to give up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These people literally are &lt;i&gt;dying&lt;/i&gt; to get into university. I have that opportunity. I should damn well make use of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-5060478770526590329?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/5060478770526590329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-like-stuff-im-studying-but-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/5060478770526590329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/5060478770526590329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-like-stuff-im-studying-but-that.html' title='Studying'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-7965785029007692179</id><published>2012-01-29T09:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T09:58:26.458+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Isn't it sad when the person you are close(st) to actually isn't the person you trust the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think too much. Think too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel alone... Like I'm by myself. Lonely.... Perhaps not so much for now. I'll rather be alone and not constantly worrying because of my friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-7965785029007692179?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/7965785029007692179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/isnt-it-sad-when-person-you-are-closest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7965785029007692179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7965785029007692179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/isnt-it-sad-when-person-you-are-closest.html' title=''/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-3598742420081713141</id><published>2012-01-26T10:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T02:28:05.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so sick..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;NOTE: Not exactly a happy post. There are vulgarities. Don't read if you have opinions about people who curse and swear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;Of &lt;em&gt;fucking stupid&lt;/em&gt; guys who &lt;em&gt;fucking-stupidly&lt;/em&gt; ignore your questions and whatever because they think it makes them seem cooler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;Well, tada! You're right. Those guys are cooler indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;But if you don't already have it in you, don't fucking bother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;If you're going to treat me differently when your other guy friends are around, you need to rethink your actions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;I blame single-sex education for this, really. &lt;strike&gt;They ought to ban every single whatever-sex only school in the entire wide world.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;By the way, I'm quite literally sick too.&amp;nbsp;Having flu, and I feel sort of guilty for contaminating the school computer like this. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;edit: alright alright, I was being quite the bitch earlier == I know some guys might be shy, or they might be a little insecure.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Then again, I still don't agree with single-sex schools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-3598742420081713141?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/3598742420081713141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-so-sick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/3598742420081713141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/3598742420081713141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-so-sick.html' title='I&apos;m so sick..'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-6798781985699531867</id><published>2012-01-22T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T17:26:00.655+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And you wonder why I am afraid of getting into a relationship...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sg.news.yahoo.com/taiwanese-suspect-tokyo-murder-takes-own-life-reports-035002861.html;_ylt=AswFb5TIDy8l9iCE3Q0Rb5cJV8d_;_ylu=X3oDMTFmaHJtNzE2BG1pdANJQiBNb2R1bGUEcG9zAzEEc2VjA01lZGlhSW5maW5pdGVCcm93c2VMaXN0;_ylg=X3oDMTNjMGowbTluBGludGwDc2cEbGFuZwNlbi1zZwRwc3RhaWQDZWMzNDBkOTktZGQyOS0zZTRlLTgxNzYtNWEzYTk5M2JkYzhkBHBzdGNhdANlbnRlcnRhaW5tZW50fGFzaWFuBHB0A3N0b3J5cGFnZQR0ZXN0Aw--;_ylv=3" target="_blank"&gt;Taiwanese suspect of Tokyo murder takes own life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.xin.msn.com/en/singapore/article.aspx?cp-documentid=5783549" target="_blank"&gt;Overstayer jailed 12 years for killing lover&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure the victim from the second article was being a bitch, and a real bitch at that, but bitches don't get death sentences(or sexual assault, for the matter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really scared of pain and being hurt physically. It makes me sound like a wimp, but there's no other way to go about it. I'm scared of guys who are physically very intimidating. You know, those almost-190cm&amp;nbsp;buff(or not)&amp;nbsp;guys you sometimes see in the MRT. I don't want to be anywhere near them. Good thing I'm 165cm and not... 154.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys are much stronger than us, but sometimes they don't use it for good stuff. I know cases of these are &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; rare, but I'm not going to go out there and experiment around, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, extreme-tallies and/or buffies, don't be sad. Many other girls like that because they feel more protected. Well... okaaaaayyyyy I don't know how their minds work too, but that's just how they think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man I'm getting scared just talking about this. Urgh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-6798781985699531867?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/6798781985699531867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-you-wonder-why-i-am-afraid-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/6798781985699531867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/6798781985699531867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-you-wonder-why-i-am-afraid-of.html' title='And you wonder why I am afraid of getting into a relationship...'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-7217729710298412230</id><published>2012-01-21T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T23:30:07.434+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I want to find someone to be with too, but I'm afraid of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's supposed to sound a little funny and all that, but that's the truth. Some guys are downright crazy and violent and all those... I'm quite scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I am very content to just check the cute ones out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-7217729710298412230?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/7217729710298412230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/sometimes-i-want-to-find-someone-to-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7217729710298412230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7217729710298412230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/sometimes-i-want-to-find-someone-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-1855325808626013004</id><published>2012-01-21T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T00:45:21.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;The thing about literature and drama is that they make us realise how little we are in control of our destinies. We may have more control over our lives now compared to hundreds/thousands of years ago, but that doesn't stop us from identifying with the characters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I watched&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"&gt;步步惊心 yesterday night and I cried pretty hard. Probably that doesn't count for a lot since I'm naturally quite generous with my tears, but it's still &lt;i&gt;valuable to a small extent&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;The saddest part is that there wasn't even a really wicked and evil character in the show too. Everyone had a conscience. The wives had their own faults but were still of good character. Obviously there was one character that was more ruthless than the rest, but even he has his own virtues. It really was fate. There wasn't a&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Voldemort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;sort-of character who embarks on crazy killing sprees, but the drama still ended rather unfortunately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;And then there's also some of&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Shakespeare's stuff that I recently glanced through. King Lear, Hamlet, R&amp;amp;J... All sad stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;Sigh...&lt;/span&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/3483055704376472870-1855325808626013004?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/1855325808626013004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/thing-about-literature-and-drama-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1855325808626013004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1855325808626013004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/thing-about-literature-and-drama-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-2513354414800448467</id><published>2012-01-18T23:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T23:51:10.840+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Dyeing was farcical.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;My hair is still mostly black, with some brown under light. Nothing like the chocolate brown we were promised, boo! But oh well. I'm not one to force things. There's always time in the future for me to fool around with my hair! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;P.S I dyed my dad's hair too. I'm sure my application was good, pity about the colour... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-2513354414800448467?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/2513354414800448467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/dyeing-was-farcical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/2513354414800448467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/2513354414800448467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/dyeing-was-farcical.html' title='Dyeing was farcical.'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-8505838156365740836</id><published>2012-01-16T19:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T19:47:36.223+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Alright...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;I decided to dye my hair in the end! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;The colour I've gotten is a deep chocolatey brown, I hope it turns out nice? But hey, if it turns out to suck, there's always soft black I can return to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;GP was a little awkward today. The teacher was trying to explain to me the significance of the US's Declaration of Independence to me in layman terms after hearing me ridiculing it, but I couldn't think of a way to let him know that I've already heard of it without him feeling like I'm dissing him off, so I just sat there for a while with the strangest expression on my face. When actually what I said about it in the first place was really just a response to my friend. Oh well, it wasn't really embarrassing like I wished the earth would swallow me whole, but it was weird enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tomorrow will be a history-heavy day. But I really like my lessons nowadays so I won't complain. I mean, we're studying Richard III and Top Girls for Literature!! Can't get more happening than that! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-8505838156365740836?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/8505838156365740836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/alright.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/8505838156365740836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/8505838156365740836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/alright.html' title='Alright...'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-6605694543154840107</id><published>2012-01-16T00:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T00:57:39.918+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Should I dye my hair?</title><content type='html'>No one's going to answer my question anyway. I'm thinking of, erm... chocolate brown. Sort of deep brown, a little shiny. But I have a feeling that the kind of brown I want won't be so easily accepted by the school, and I won't be satisfied settling for a more subtle shade either, so maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humphzz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-6605694543154840107?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/6605694543154840107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/should-i-dye-my-hair.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/6605694543154840107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/6605694543154840107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/should-i-dye-my-hair.html' title='Should I dye my hair?'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-1085971760540259858</id><published>2012-01-15T10:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T10:36:57.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ecareers.sg</title><content type='html'>Just fooled around for a bit in there, and all of my related occupations turned out to be related to finance/insurance/investments. Well actually the latter two are subsets of the first. I was in there because the school gave us a few worksheets to complete, and I've also just realised that I don't actually know what I want to do. There were 3 spaces for us to fill in our top 3 career choices, so mine are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;#1: Trust Professionals&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;#2: Human Resource Manager&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;#3: Police Officer(&lt;i&gt;we need some variety, right?&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also found some others that I was interested in, so I'll list those in here too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: Quantity&amp;nbsp;Surveyors&lt;br /&gt;#5: Research Analysts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still like Psychology, but I'll admit, I'm not so sure now. Somehow at least 40% of the people in Arts Stream(and there's some in the Science Stream, too) want to study Psychology, and I'm not sure if they(we) really &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; to, or we have been misled somehow. There's so much hype around this major I'm actually getting a bit turned off. Also, the recent DSM-5 is extremely problematic. The psychology journals out there are very &lt;i&gt;cheem&lt;/i&gt; and probably you'll have some difficulty with those, but the main problem is that DSM-5, which is supposed to help psychologists diagnose mental abnormality, is not being trusted by those it was supposed to lend aid to. The psychologists think that it's going to cause people who are actually just a &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; different to be unnecessarily labeled with an illness. In short these people are worried about overdiagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let me get to Business now. It's also really hype-y, but the world does need quite a lot of Business people so it's still acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;The Bad: Admission to courses are competitive. NUS wants straight As, NTU wants AAB/B, and SMU wants ABB/C. And these are the 10th percentile, meaning people who perform like this probably have really brilliant outside-of-school achievements that I lack.&lt;br /&gt;The Good: Business is easily available in every private school you can think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queer... Means I have to study more now. I've taken extra care to stay out of high-risk investor-sort of careers, because common consensus out there is that their work-life balance isn't so balanced. So my no. #1, #4 and #5 don't have much to do with risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not joking around with #3, by the way. I heard they have a retirement fund, which is an encouragement because I'm kind of scared that when I grow old, I'll be all sad and feeble. But my mum&amp;nbsp;told&amp;nbsp;me before that my physical fitness does not make the cut. Guess what, when I checked for their required qualities, there was nothing about fitness in there! Of course there's going to be the Academy and physical training, but generally you're not expected to be of Olympic&amp;nbsp;caliber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-1085971760540259858?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/1085971760540259858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/ecareerssg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1085971760540259858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/1085971760540259858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/ecareerssg.html' title='ecareers.sg'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-7624418907226481403</id><published>2012-01-10T06:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T06:01:34.617+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In need of sleep</title><content type='html'>I... need... some sleep.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Science students are pretty thrilled that we're all not having classes for these two days. I'll rather have the classes and go home early. But well, they're tired enough, so I'll get off their backs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Classes are starting, and it seems as if the entourage of tests I previously warned you guys about won't be as big as predicted. More rest, I can't bring myself to complain!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-7624418907226481403?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/7624418907226481403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-need-of-sleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7624418907226481403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/7624418907226481403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-need-of-sleep.html' title='In need of sleep'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-245020562728340385</id><published>2012-01-08T20:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T20:05:13.926+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Twitty</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;I'm currently suffering from &lt;i&gt;Twitter&lt;/i&gt;-withdrawal symptoms. No idea what to do with the newfound free time, and no excuses to take a break. Wow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm going to need some time to get used to this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-245020562728340385?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/245020562728340385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/twitty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/245020562728340385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/245020562728340385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/twitty.html' title='Twitty'/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-4270730960870101473</id><published>2012-01-08T12:09:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T12:25:35.791+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>That buggy feeling you get when your Facebook friend updates too often and you don't actually care for what he/she has to say. You are not interesting, sista. You're boring, I don't give a damn how often you dye your hair, and kpop does not excite me the slightest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-4270730960870101473?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/4270730960870101473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/that-buggy-feeling-that-gets-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/4270730960870101473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/4270730960870101473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/that-buggy-feeling-that-gets-to-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483055704376472870.post-2360091279450947922</id><published>2012-01-06T22:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T11:30:01.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've moved all my earlier posts to an unused URL, because I find them whinny and reminiscent of stuff that only a lovelorn, immature girl would post. And I am most definitely &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/b&gt;a lovelorn, immature girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So! I know it might be disruptive for you guys to jump all around my various URLs with me, but I really have something against viewing my history. I feel stupid and retarded every time I read my archives. It's the same for Facebook and Twitter as well, and I've since created new accounts for both websites. Currently I self-censor each alphabet before posting, so they're actually not that much fun to stalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've been seeing JSS people all around the Jurong Point area. One yesterday and another two just now. Honestly, I was very happy to see them. Whereas in the past I would have turned around and tried to &lt;i&gt;'blind-spot'&lt;/i&gt; my way out of their range, I now find myself genuinely happy to see them. Which is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's starting in 3 days&lt;strike&gt;(or 4... if you get what I mean *ahem*)&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;and if I'm not wrong, we'll be greeted by an entourage of block tests almost immediately after returning. I haven't studied. I know I should, but that knowledge isn't changing anything. I hope there's something passive going on the inside of my brain, though. I can remember some points for History since completing some of the homework. Literature and Econs... I think I'll be better off praying than studying, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just joking, of course. I'll be damned if I make it all the way here and start&amp;nbsp;committing&amp;nbsp;academic suicide now. What this means is that I'll probably study, but not so much arrrgh-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, there's actually nothing in my life that I've ever put in 100% of my effort for. Definitely not for studies. I have never been able to look back at anything I've done and think, "Yes, I gave it my best shot!" I never felt really pushed, but I always manage to scrap through. Just barely slipping through the cracks. I want to know that I can do more, but at the same time I &lt;i&gt;don't&lt;/i&gt; feel like starting! How stupid can this be??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like that for PSLE. O Levels. Promos. In fact I think I put in more effort in the school play than I ever did for studying(let's just say that I really didn't want to look stupid). Or okay, Choir. During the SYFs I can say I put in 99%. But there's nothing else. There's nothing else that I attempted to the best of my abilities... And so there's nothing I can truly feel proud about. Zilch. I made it far enough but without any sense of achievement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I received my O Level results, I didn't feel ecstatically happy. Even though the results were pretty... pretty. I felt guilty for not studying enough. Then I felt some relief, and well, that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope there is something in this world that I can do. Something that I can put in 100% for. Will I have to force myself to do it, like how I probably should force myself to put in 100% for my studies? I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I don't know about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3483055704376472870-2360091279450947922?l=secretivestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/feeds/2360091279450947922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-moved-all-my-earlier-posts-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/2360091279450947922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3483055704376472870/posts/default/2360091279450947922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretivestars.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-moved-all-my-earlier-posts-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Priscilla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06417360732221845834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AqhhYqVcMys/TR3rUQtDiPI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Jwj0ZZZqfqk/S220/110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
