<?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-18746633</id><updated>2011-11-28T08:57:21.140+08:00</updated><category term='provoking thoughts'/><category term='reflection'/><category term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><category term='matters close to the heart'/><category term='filler'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='rhetorical questions'/><category term='lists'/><category term='reunion'/><category term='the word'/><category term='from books'/><category term='updates'/><category term='from my lens'/><category term='rant'/><category term='humor'/><category term='this country: my home'/><category term='dreams hopes visions'/><title type='text'>all grown up</title><subtitle type='html'>grown up, but still with the occasional whine...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>254</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1844722143492411472</id><published>2011-02-11T07:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T07:17:27.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script language='javascript'&gt;parent.location='http://drugstoremedical.net';&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1844722143492411472?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1844722143492411472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1844722143492411472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1844722143492411472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1844722143492411472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2011/02/parent_11.html' title=''/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2201262141079545023</id><published>2011-02-09T14:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T14:25:05.981+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script language='javascript'&gt;parent.location='http://jobethrickman.t35.com';&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2201262141079545023?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2201262141079545023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2201262141079545023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2201262141079545023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2201262141079545023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2011/02/parent_2872.html' title=''/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8839759571261298302</id><published>2011-02-09T03:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T03:06:53.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script language='javascript'&gt;parent.location='http://jobethrickman.t35.com';&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8839759571261298302?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8839759571261298302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8839759571261298302&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8839759571261298302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8839759571261298302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2011/02/parent_09.html' title=''/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5456004642255091225</id><published>2011-02-08T15:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T15:49:58.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;script language='javascript'&gt;parent.location='http://drugstoremedical.net';&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5456004642255091225?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5456004642255091225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5456004642255091225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5456004642255091225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5456004642255091225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2011/02/parent.html' title=''/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1467778470738219781</id><published>2008-03-03T12:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T12:11:09.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>moved...for now</title><content type='html'>I'm now &lt;a href="http://theheavyweights.wordpress.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. For the time being... until I sort things out.&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&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/18746633-1467778470738219781?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1467778470738219781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1467778470738219781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1467778470738219781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1467778470738219781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/03/movedfor-now.html' title='moved...for now'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6753517988746292524</id><published>2008-02-23T00:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T00:44:59.804+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>moving?</title><content type='html'>I may be moving...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still flirting with the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? Ideas? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6753517988746292524?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6753517988746292524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6753517988746292524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6753517988746292524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6753517988746292524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/moving.html' title='moving?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-237182859158504554</id><published>2008-02-21T17:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:13:42.698+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matters close to the heart'/><title type='text'>oh. we do choose...</title><content type='html'>Choice choice choice choice choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said it over and over again, and I'll say it again. We always have a choice. ALWAYS.&lt;br /&gt;If that didn't ring in LOUD and clear, here it goes again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;ALWAYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tend to forget many times, that we have a choice in everything we do. Past, present and future aside, in taking any steps, we are given a choice to follow.&lt;br /&gt;The excuse, "but there wasn't any other way....", "I was too tempted...", "I wasn't given any other choice" is just plain weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the day your hands, legs, and body are tied to puppet strings, and is being controlled by a puppet master, please, PLEASE don't say, "I couldn't help myself".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made mistakes. Countless times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to not say I was forced into the circumstances. I made choices which I'm not proud of that led me to make that mistake. That won't be my last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, as soon as I realize that I'm responsible for my mess, the sooner I work towards correcting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please. I beg of you. Please don't blame the situation or surroundings you are in. Be responsible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-237182859158504554?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/237182859158504554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=237182859158504554&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/237182859158504554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/237182859158504554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-we-do-choose.html' title='oh. we do choose...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6352469077539786102</id><published>2008-02-20T03:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T03:35:35.307+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matters close to the heart'/><title type='text'>when choosing...</title><content type='html'>We all have a choice. We all have a part to play some way or another. However, we need to be willing first. Can we truly be used if we don't want to be used?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe everyone should be given a fair chance, and in that, a fair amount of help given and time. If one were to get more just because they did not want to budge in the first place, it's tough. Being merciful if one was not quick to adapt and needed some extra help, but is willing to go the extra mile just to improve, is a whole different story from one who doesn't want to be moved at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there are two bulls in the field, given one is really strong, and has lots of potential to all the work in the field in  half the time, versus another which wasn't as strong, but was very obedient, which would you pick? Especially when there is only a day to do the work, no one would half expect the farmer to soothe the bull and ease it into work. Rather than hope something could be done quickly, sure the most logical way out would be to pick the one that is easier to work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure. We can discuss about compassion, and that this kind of thinking lacks it, but coming back to the bull that has to work the field; if a dredge was attached to it, and it chose to go its own way, the whole field would be messed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we are given important parts to play, and we choose not to follow, will the parts then come to succession into a bigger picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obedience before sacrifice. The last will be the first. Pride to not yield will be opposed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will it not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6352469077539786102?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6352469077539786102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6352469077539786102&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6352469077539786102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6352469077539786102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/when-choosing.html' title='when choosing...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1486059124826427254</id><published>2008-02-19T14:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T14:20:51.105+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='filler'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>in good company</title><content type='html'>Ah. The smell of good company. Coffee that is. Blogging during lunch hour. What has become of my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what one can do, when lunch is over, and it's time to get back to the books. PLUS, there's so much political discussion going on in Malaysia/among Malaysians, I don't feel like the need to pile on to the existing amount of views and opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what can I blog on that my English doesn't rust and continue to deteriorate? (Reading medical books isn't the best source to improve English or learn new words, unless you consider volvulus or melena new words).&lt;br /&gt;Blog about coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I realize that the title is in good company. But truly, I am. Kenyan coffee beans, good music, and a stack of books. A small table lamp that lights up a portion of my dark room. What more can any normal (nerd) human being ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so coooooollllllllllllllll.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Er hrm. Er. Back to the grind I s'pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://jkontherun.blogs.com/jkontherun/WindowsLiveWriter/coffee_man.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://jkontherun.blogs.com/jkontherun/WindowsLiveWriter/coffee_man.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the adventures of coffee man and Kenyan beans ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1486059124826427254?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1486059124826427254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1486059124826427254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1486059124826427254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1486059124826427254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-good-company.html' title='in good company'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8899898782411236092</id><published>2008-02-17T01:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T14:56:33.768+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matters close to the heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>the polling goes marching on.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That's right. Parliament has been dissolved, which means...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.y-talk.co.uk/images/pollBox.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 244px;" src="http://www.y-talk.co.uk/images/pollBox.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;it's time to vote a new government. That's right people. Time to use your privilege as a citizen to make a difference in this country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to blog much about why you should do it, or convince you in the best 10 reasons on the importance of voting, but as the idiom goes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"A little goes a long way."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;Or the Malay idiom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Sikit-sikit, lama menjadi bukit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;(Little by little, a hill is formed eventually).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that we indeed can make a difference, if we choose to be a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here are some stuff you do to read up on &lt;a href="http://thestar.com.my/elections2008/story.asp?file=/2008/2/14/election2008/20080214143819&amp;amp;sec=Election2008"&gt;elections&lt;/a&gt;, or to check if you are &lt;a href="http://daftarj.spr.gov.my/daftarbi.asp"&gt;eligible&lt;/a&gt; to vote this year. And finally,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for you country"&lt;br /&gt;John F. Kennedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Vote wisely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8899898782411236092?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8899898782411236092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8899898782411236092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8899898782411236092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8899898782411236092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/polling-goes-marching-on.html' title='the polling goes marching on.....'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1930309129575349475</id><published>2008-02-14T21:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T22:15:37.275+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>love is in the air</title><content type='html'>This time last  year I wrote a &lt;a href="http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/02/women-in-my-life.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; just because it was valentine's day. Nothing different this time around. Although, I'm much less for ideas, and some how, my English has deteriorated. Atrocious! I guess, after hanging out in a country that's so proud of their very own &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Manglish&lt;/span&gt;, one tends to follow after the trend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's day. Love is in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually not so much for me. It's been a pretty much normal day for me. I was surprised to not see many people walking hand in hand, or with a bouquet of flowers in hand. No love music in the air as I walked the shopping mall to get some items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say this (please don't kill me!), but I was even surprised that my sister wasn't out on a romantic dinner. (Here's me sore but trying to rationalize things) I guess when one's a little older, commercialized days like Valentine's Day don't faze us. (Yeah right!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly speaking though, all soreness aside, I don't see why there's any real reason to celebrate. And as Shawn Kong had written in his &lt;a href="http://skny.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-flowers.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;, shouldn't love be celebrated on a daily basis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most probably, florists, candy and chocolate sellers or anything that comes along in the package of Valentine's day, just wanted to make a little more cash (probably Chinese, since most of them had to give away angpows and now had to make back some money), and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hence&lt;/span&gt;, some how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;convinced/conned&lt;/span&gt; women in the world, that this day should be something &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;special&lt;/span&gt;, and IF they meant anything at all to their significant other, they should get something or some celebration out of the ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just kidding. Please don't sue me or leave nasty comments in my blog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, here's a picture to somewhat &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/make%20whoopee"&gt;make whoopee&lt;/a&gt; of this special day. Happy Valentine's day! Especially to those who are sitting in front of your computers right now reading blogs instead of out on a hot date. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/26/30/23303026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/26/30/23303026.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1930309129575349475?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1930309129575349475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1930309129575349475&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1930309129575349475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1930309129575349475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/love-is-in-air.html' title='love is in the air'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6427658262051683064</id><published>2008-02-11T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T23:33:39.758+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matters close to the heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>crossroads</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What do you do when there seems like a dozen roadblocks, too many options and no clue as to where one should go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.calvarytemplewayne.com/images/crossroads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.calvarytemplewayne.com/images/crossroads.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the cross roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I go from here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6427658262051683064?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6427658262051683064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6427658262051683064&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6427658262051683064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6427658262051683064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/crossroads.html' title='crossroads'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7844644443034412557</id><published>2008-02-04T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T23:04:57.099+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matters close to the heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams hopes visions'/><title type='text'>where have all the real men gone?</title><content type='html'>No, really. Without even the slightest bit of cynicism, where are they? No, I've not turned gay, but as a guy, who is looking for guy friends who can help walk in the many journeys of life, I can't find many (if at all any)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hang out with a group of guys. We DO stuff. We play boardgames. Mamak. Movies. Idle chat about certain things. But where have all the good men, who would lend a hand in the heart department. Or the dream department. Built each other up, hear each other out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Where?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not asking anyone to be soppy, or touchy feel-y (a definite NO!), but at least for Pete's sake, or in this case, for our sake, can we do something more building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened the to the band of brothers? Not leaving anyone behind? Striving and marching together? Pulling each other from the mud pit, or watching each others backs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Calling all real men out there. Your guy friend needs you. Really. Not just for a game of footie or cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope that I can find a group of guy friends, who can form a strong sense of camaraderie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COME ON GUYS!&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/18746633-7844644443034412557?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7844644443034412557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7844644443034412557&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7844644443034412557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7844644443034412557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-have-all-real-men-gone.html' title='where have all the real men gone?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6105256957159737125</id><published>2008-02-01T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T21:41:41.220+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from books'/><title type='text'>the reality of it all</title><content type='html'>What's the truth? What's right and what's wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've learned so many 'facts', so many 'truths' that it's become what we pick and choose, and then it's our version of the truth, our facts that we hold so steadfastly to. Or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered another reason as to why I believe in God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because He is REALITY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waitaminute. You already kinda knew that didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look around you. Everything that's made, is made from something by someone, and everything including relationship are held together by something. By what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quote this from Velvet Elvis that I really like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);"&gt;"I don't follow Jesus because I think Christianity is the best religion. I follow Jesus because he leads me into ultimate reality. He teaches me how to live in tune with how reality is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In John 1:1, it says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the word was God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;WORD&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;logos&lt;/span&gt; in Greek, to which we get the word&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; logic&lt;/span&gt; from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God = Word, which also means logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logic to which reality is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Colossians 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-29496" class="sup"&gt;17&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The reality can ONLY be found in Christ. No where else. And THAT is the reality of it all.&lt;/span&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/18746633-6105256957159737125?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6105256957159737125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6105256957159737125&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6105256957159737125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6105256957159737125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/reality-of-it-all.html' title='the reality of it all'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8224683911883078979</id><published>2008-02-01T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T01:27:44.090+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>yours or mine?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Who's opinion is right? Who's opinion is wrong? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Mine came from the bible. So, not to say yours is wrong, but mine is simply just from the bible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time I read that statement, I myself had not seen anything that was wrong. In fact, isn't that supposed to be the truth? I mean, if the bible isn't right, why am I following it so closely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob Bell in his book Velvet Elvis says that it's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong? Wait a minute, the bible wrong? He playfully put questions like this back and fourth, but had really asked it out of seriousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, the bible is really an open interpretation. In the olden days, when each village probable had only one bible, they came together to read and discuss to come up with the best conclusion or about a passage. No single person came up with their own interpretation out of reading solitary. It wasn't a solo effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, quite well put when it says, who are we to tell someone that what they believe in is wrong, when what we believe in sometimes, is also something we had deciphered on our own from the bible? Just because we QUOTE the bible, or a part of it, doesn't make the statement right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, or don't get Rob Bell wrong. The bible is ultimately VERY important. As much potential it has to give answers, we can misconstrue the information, and teach the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Jeremiah 17:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-19367" class="sup"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;       Who can understand it?&lt;br /&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/18746633-8224683911883078979?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8224683911883078979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8224683911883078979&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8224683911883078979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8224683911883078979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/02/yours-or-mine.html' title='yours or mine?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-49706240284094033</id><published>2008-01-31T15:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T15:56:43.931+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams hopes visions'/><title type='text'>intermission</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I blogged. A hiatus from the typing world. I haven't written anything for a while, and have not quite been regular, simply because, my brain felt drained. Nothing creative to write, or nothing inspiring to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I did read of some things interesting, and thought it might be good to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially for all those who may be feeling a little burnt out from over doing, and not getting anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sustainability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to sustain years and years of what your are supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book Courageous Leadership by Bill Hybels (which I finally finished yesterday), he talks about&lt;br /&gt;1) Knowing your calling&lt;br /&gt;2) Having the courage to change&lt;br /&gt;3) Surrounding oneself with 'safe' ppl&lt;br /&gt;4) Looking at it from an eternal point of view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to say that I've fully mastered it, but 1,2, and 4 didn't impact me as much as surrounding oneself with safe people. Why you may ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, I'm seeing the importance of just surrounding myself with like minded people. People who would say, come on, don't give up when I feel like it. People to cheer you on. People who work with you on the same page instead of going  in a different direction. People who would agree not for the sake of agreeing, but for the sake of building together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. I'm not whining here. I'm dreaming here. Having a vision of people working hand in hand and moving forward together. This are the people who would sustain each other through the tests of time, storms, disasters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Ecc 4:9-10 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;People. We need to learn how to encourage one another full heartedly. No man is an island.&lt;/span&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/18746633-49706240284094033?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/49706240284094033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=49706240284094033&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/49706240284094033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/49706240284094033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/intermission.html' title='intermission'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6088123708959547068</id><published>2008-01-30T23:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:40.941+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from my lens'/><title type='text'>pics of New York (2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfBgrlA9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/heGQ4qWFAQA/s1600-h/IMG_1632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfBgrlA9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/heGQ4qWFAQA/s320/IMG_1632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161300021267989458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the park before boarding the boat to Liberty Island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfCgrlA-I/AAAAAAAAAEs/LxdffbYPS30/s1600-h/IMG_1631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfCgrlA-I/AAAAAAAAAEs/LxdffbYPS30/s320/IMG_1631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161300038447858658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is south of Manhattan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfDArlA_I/AAAAAAAAAE0/BFuSPqHyKmY/s1600-h/IMG_1638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfDArlA_I/AAAAAAAAAE0/BFuSPqHyKmY/s320/IMG_1638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161300047037793266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Statue of Liberty from afar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfEQrlBAI/AAAAAAAAAE8/0mPRC_AJbvY/s1600-h/IMG_1636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfEQrlBAI/AAAAAAAAAE8/0mPRC_AJbvY/s320/IMG_1636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161300068512629762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfEwrlBBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7rb9NnpodyM/s1600-h/IMG_1641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfEwrlBBI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7rb9NnpodyM/s320/IMG_1641.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161300077102564370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just as we were queuing up to get onto the boat, my camera died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6088123708959547068?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6088123708959547068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6088123708959547068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6088123708959547068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6088123708959547068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/pics-of-new-york-2.html' title='pics of New York (2)'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R6CfBgrlA9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/heGQ4qWFAQA/s72-c/IMG_1632.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-3931943824092206866</id><published>2008-01-25T12:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:41.795+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from my lens'/><title type='text'>pics of New York (1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luBwrlA4I/AAAAAAAAAD8/dBu8CNFYFfc/s1600-h/IMG_1620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luBwrlA4I/AAAAAAAAAD8/dBu8CNFYFfc/s320/IMG_1620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159275824656221058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First day at New York from New Jersey. My mother and I were waiting for a train to go to a friend's place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luCgrlA5I/AAAAAAAAAEE/JMfWGJfi_sA/s1600-h/IMG_1626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luCgrlA5I/AAAAAAAAAEE/JMfWGJfi_sA/s320/IMG_1626.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159275837541122962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The hustle and bustle of Grand Central Station New York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luDQrlA6I/AAAAAAAAAEM/yH6SwIqo65M/s1600-h/IMG_1618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luDQrlA6I/AAAAAAAAAEM/yH6SwIqo65M/s320/IMG_1618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159275850426024866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some really nice paintings on the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luDwrlA7I/AAAAAAAAAEU/61_Fb7vopHk/s1600-h/IMG_1631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luDwrlA7I/AAAAAAAAAEU/61_Fb7vopHk/s320/IMG_1631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159275859015959474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heading to the statue of liberty. This is south of Manhattan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-3931943824092206866?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/3931943824092206866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=3931943824092206866&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3931943824092206866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3931943824092206866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/pics-of-new-york-1.html' title='pics of New York (1)'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/R5luBwrlA4I/AAAAAAAAAD8/dBu8CNFYFfc/s72-c/IMG_1620.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-941865785238726563</id><published>2008-01-10T05:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T05:19:12.592+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>new york new york</title><content type='html'>Yes. Blogging from New York. It's my last day here. Well, penultimate day, to be more exact. Instead of traveling an hour to downtown Manhattan, I'm at my friend's place. Resting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, being able to gather some thoughts, and relax for just a bit, I feel for the first time in 7 days, I'm actually adjusting to this place, and having some sort of affection for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain myself a little. When I left Malaysia for Halifax, as much as I knew I was leaving friends and family behind, it didn't sting that much. I was all excited, wide eyed to live abroad. Do different things, experience 4 seasons, see SNOW! And as much as I missed Malaysia initially, I didn't show it. What was worse I guess, was when I felt, it wasn't so much as to me leaving Malaysia, but it was more of Malaysia leaving me. Yeap. Weird as it is, it was somewhat true, as I saw the number of emails dwindling in my inbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time around, as I left home for just even a brief moment, I missed it already. I'm unable to pinpoint, what exactly leaves me so longing for home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the people? Friends? Convenience and familiarity? Church? Leaders? Surroundings and temperature? Or have I finally grown to love HOME the way it is, because simply there's no place like home.&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, I do not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting and waiting, and thinking, sometimes, is just not my best asset. As I sit to ponder whether I would have to go through it all over again, I am uncertain if I do want to, or am I secretly hoping that I do, as it means I am coming here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of searching to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-941865785238726563?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/941865785238726563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=941865785238726563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/941865785238726563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/941865785238726563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-york-new-york.html' title='new york new york'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8692353631465388097</id><published>2008-01-06T23:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:42:44.916+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>blame</title><content type='html'>It's easier to blame than to be responsible. It's easier to create excuses than to own up. It's a piece of cake, to live in denial and not face facts or to accept things the way they are, and instead of improving or doing what's necessary to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to look back and see how His mighty hand has moved, if we never accepted that there was something wrong to begin with, that needed intervention or a miracle. It's difficult to own up and say, it was out of the ordinary, because instead of hoping, deep down, that person stayed disappointed and in the end made logic of everything seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worse is, one who has never really given God the chance to come into their lives, and at the first sight of difficulty, first smell of trouble, they find fault in the one being they don't really believe in, or never bothered to get to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I choose to NOT to accuse. I choose to believe that He can do all things. All the more, I believe in Romans 8:28. I thank, not curse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8692353631465388097?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8692353631465388097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8692353631465388097&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8692353631465388097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8692353631465388097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/blame.html' title='blame'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-67188821689165678</id><published>2008-01-01T20:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T21:07:43.984+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>new years...</title><content type='html'>This time round, I'm wasn't around in Malaysia to celebrate the advent of the new year. Yeap. I was away. Tucked in my bed, in a hotel room, in New Jersey. I didn't even stay awake to countdown with the people on tv in Times Square. I was just too tired from my flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanted to do this yesterday, JUST as most people did before the year ended: a quick reflection of 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a very odd year for me. Plenty of farewells, and parting of ways. Many weddings (though I did not get to go for many), many new friendships forged, and had friends who had pregnancies.&lt;br /&gt;The first half of the year I was in a different continent, then in the second half of the year. My perspective, my outlook on things has also changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I believe my second half of the year was really good. Who knew that as soon as I came back, I would jump into ministry and reach out to students. I guess after all the years of being a 'senior' student, trying to help 'junior' students, I've finally found a calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leading. Mentoring. Shepherding. Dare I say it? Pastoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of wanting to do all this, I had exams. It did not stop me, however, as I already had made a decision to do what was important, and what God wanted me to do. I am glad that I had worked hard in the midst of studying, or else I would have missed out on a lot. I would have missed being God's instrument, and missed the joy of seeing some growing up, and KNOWING that I had a part to play in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for including me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there were big words this year that I would carry to 2008, these would be it:&lt;br /&gt;Decided, obedient, follow, lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some verses that truly applied to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Matthew 6:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-23316" class="sup"&gt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Romans 8:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28130" class="sup"&gt;28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28133" class="sup"&gt;31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28134" class="sup"&gt;32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28139" class="sup"&gt;37&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28140" class="sup"&gt;38&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28141" class="sup"&gt;39&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Phil 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-29418" class="sup"&gt;12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-29419" class="sup"&gt;13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-29420" class="sup"&gt;14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy new year peeps! May 2008 be a blessed year for many. Another year to push forward and grow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-67188821689165678?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/67188821689165678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=67188821689165678&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/67188821689165678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/67188821689165678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years.html' title='new years...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5063552567754690448</id><published>2007-12-16T01:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T02:04:00.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why Dec is so special...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(159, 158, 158); font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;embed src="http://godtube.com/flvplayer.swf" flashvars="viewkey=ee73e63418003b47d7d5" wmode="transparent" quality="high" width="330" height="270" name="godtube" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5063552567754690448?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5063552567754690448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5063552567754690448&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5063552567754690448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5063552567754690448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/12/this-is-why-dec-is-so-special.html' title='This is why Dec is so special...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4506040711457626491</id><published>2007-12-13T00:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T12:06:34.181+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='filler'/><title type='text'>SNOWWWWWWWWWWWW</title><content type='html'>That's right.... there's going to be SNOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in North America...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. That really probably did catch your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just tired out from the day. So I'm just putting in a filler filler post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*whistles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're still reading? That's really amazing...&lt;br /&gt;unfortunately, I don't really have much to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my wish list for Christmas:&lt;br /&gt;1. Macbook Pro&lt;br /&gt;2. Nikon D300 dslr&lt;br /&gt;3. PS 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No books or CDs please. I have enough. So any of the top 3 will do. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4506040711457626491?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4506040711457626491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4506040711457626491&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4506040711457626491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4506040711457626491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/12/snowwwwwwwwwwww.html' title='SNOWWWWWWWWWWWW'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-257391868682474511</id><published>2007-12-06T23:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T23:50:42.190+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><title type='text'>ponder</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Who are we, that we question what is fair and what is not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Who are we to make a mockery of the beginning, the present and the future, when we don't have a hand in any of these?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Who are we to say we are smart enough, that we don't need guidance, and we can truly do what we want, how we want, and anytime we want?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom. Essentially, everyone wants to be free, everyone wants to be able to complete what they want to. No rules applied, no law, no punishments, no restrictions. TOTAL freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question is then this:&lt;br /&gt;What happens then when the consequences to our freedom are horrible? Who do we then blame? Ourselves? Or do we ask God (in whom some don't believe in), why it is happening to us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;Scratch the itch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words someone shared with me, to which, the more I think about it, doesn't quite make sense. (Hehe, sorry to that person who shared it with me) Here's why:&lt;br /&gt;How many times had we all had physical itches? Then, we scratch and scratch, to find some form of relief, but don't get it. We scratch some more, when we are not conscious, or even when we know it. Eventually the skin breaks down. For that temporary relief, we soon find pain ensuing. It bleeds, skin is no longer intact, a scab forms over, sometimes leaving a scar.&lt;br /&gt;We soon question ourselves, why did we not stop scratching in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True freedom will not leave scars. Will not leave regrets, will not leave pain, hurt, anger, frustration, hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True freedom brings true freedom, not just for now, but everlasting. So, be careful in what you choose to believe, or choose to do, for the "freedom" now, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;may&lt;/span&gt; just be for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-257391868682474511?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/257391868682474511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=257391868682474511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/257391868682474511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/257391868682474511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/12/ponder.html' title='ponder'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-460757703720373900</id><published>2007-12-04T22:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T22:09:02.299+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>Dec</title><content type='html'>Ring ting a ling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last month of the year, the one just before the new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Month of joy, month of celebrations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to be a busy one. Hope everyone is doing well and excited for Christmas :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-460757703720373900?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/460757703720373900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=460757703720373900&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/460757703720373900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/460757703720373900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/12/dec.html' title='Dec'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2511820078111713230</id><published>2007-11-27T00:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T00:51:45.282+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><title type='text'>look, if you will</title><content type='html'>Interesting chat I had with a friend. (Don't bludgeon me when you read this!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subjectivity versus objectivity. This topic, is like opening up a can of worms, but one might find gold at the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see what we want to see, we allow ourselves to think what we want to think. After all, ignorance is bliss right?&lt;br /&gt;WRONG! (In my opinion that is)&lt;br /&gt;Can we continue to live in a fantasy world, where events are juts a figment of the mind, merely to cover up unpleasantness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's always two sides to the coin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Followed with a response of, "we are perceptive creatures, we only see the side we want to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we only see the side we want to, does that mean there IS only one side?&lt;br /&gt;Can we truly live without knowing what goes on around us? If we can, then will it still be bliss? Living in a war torn country and choose to believe that the sounds outside the house, is just the sound of a pot crashing to the ground, hit by a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To live like that, to me, it's like living in an illusion. Then, we live in a dream, not reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2511820078111713230?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2511820078111713230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2511820078111713230&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2511820078111713230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2511820078111713230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/look-if-you-will.html' title='look, if you will'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4590909308548019823</id><published>2007-11-26T22:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T22:39:14.939+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>plank!!!</title><content type='html'>It's so easy to pick out other people's faults. I know that for certain, because I'm in the habit of doing that daily. I don't know whether I'm overly critical or just finding ways to shooting my mouth off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This verse comes to mind each time, I judge others, or when other people make judgments of their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Matthew 7:3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the best picture that comes to mind, but I don't think I can sketch it better. So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.biblepicturegallery.com/Samples/ca/teaching/bible_bk/new_test/gospels/matthew/A%20man%20with%20a%20plank%20in%20his%20eye.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.biblepicturegallery.com/Samples/ca/teaching/bible_bk/new_test/gospels/matthew/A%20man%20with%20a%20plank%20in%20his%20eye.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yowzaass...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4590909308548019823?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4590909308548019823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4590909308548019823&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4590909308548019823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4590909308548019823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/plank.html' title='plank!!!'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1834705565663646595</id><published>2007-11-25T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T23:30:01.240+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>what!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;CNN really got this wrong, and comes to prove that sometimes, reporters do not get it right with news!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go read this &lt;a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/asiapcf/11/25/malaysia.protests/index.html?iref=mpstoryview"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; about HINDRAF in Malaysia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who don't know why HINDRAF had their rally: it was because they were demanding the Queen to set up a committee into inquiring and perhaps compensating every Indian that was brought over from India to Malaysia as laborers. As much as US 1 million per person is hoped to be given as compensation. Local news on this matter can be found &lt;a href="http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2007/11/25/nation/20071125105316&amp;amp;sec=nation"&gt;here&lt;/a&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/18746633-1834705565663646595?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1834705565663646595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1834705565663646595&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1834705565663646595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1834705565663646595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/what.html' title='what!?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-951304391593800014</id><published>2007-11-23T00:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T00:59:41.796+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>lest we forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="en-NIV-25582" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Luke 15&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;1Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-25583" class="sup"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-25584" class="sup"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;Then Jesus told them this parable: &lt;span id="en-NIV-25585" class="sup"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? &lt;span id="en-NIV-25586" class="sup"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt;And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders &lt;span id="en-NIV-25587" class="sup"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' &lt;span id="en-NIV-25588" class="sup"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put this up after a conversation with a friend, and how this was part of this person's life at one point of time. I think we forget. We forget how important we are to Christ, to God, that despite all our shortcomings, He still wants us back. Beyond waiting, beyond hoping, He goes out in search. What moves me most, is that, when He finds us, He just doesn't hug us in joy, but He carries us home. If I may just highlight this part, "&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;he joyfully puts it on his shoulders &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" id="en-NIV-25587" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;and goes home&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the relationship that will not be severed by sin. Yet, sometimes we cheapen His work by saying we are not worthy (not out of praise, but really out of self condemnation). We dilute His grace, we put away His love as if it were nothing. Then, we find it hard to love others, because we feel ourselves do not have enough love. As IF His love wasn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves us. Very much. So much so, He'll run after you in tears, even as you turn your back on Him and run in further away from Him. Even if He had to carry that cross again, He probably would, just for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lest we forget. Lest we forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-951304391593800014?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/951304391593800014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=951304391593800014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/951304391593800014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/951304391593800014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/lest-we-forget.html' title='lest we forget'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4991014955026617959</id><published>2007-11-19T11:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T11:11:42.845+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>filler</title><content type='html'>What do you call cheese that's not yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drum rolllllllllllll..............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..............&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;NACHO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;cheese!&lt;/span&gt; :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4991014955026617959?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4991014955026617959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4991014955026617959&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4991014955026617959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4991014955026617959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/filler.html' title='filler'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7347334151569237152</id><published>2007-11-18T00:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T00:56:09.011+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>encounter</title><content type='html'>When was the last time you met someone so influential over your life, you totally changed? Made anew, not just the skin, but all the organs inside. So new, that when you walk, it'd squeaked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not just talking about bad habits, I'm talking about HUGE character flaws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the bible, I've met someone who's changed, walked in a 180 degree direction from his original path. From being a skeptical, to a believer, from a prosecutor, to be the prosecuted, from a man of noble position, to a man put in jail multiple times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul, was a Jew, who studied under Greek philosophy was also a Roman citizen. As Ravi Zacharias to appropriately summed it in one sentence: The Hebrews gave the world its moral categories; the Greeks its philosophical categories; and the Romans its legal categories - Paul (or previously known as Saul) had everything that one would need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT... he didn't believe in Christ... initially. In fact, he persecuted all who believed in Him. Christ wasn't his Savior, wasn't his Lord. Not until he met Christ on the way to Damascus. Then, he changed. Not just out of fear, but I believe the encounter was so real, he couldn't turn away from it. He could no longer deny Christ. From that day on, he gave up everything that was his, and gave all to Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, in this day and age, I've met so many people, who have come to know Christ, and have walked in a totally different direction in their lives soon after. Angry people becoming the most patient and calm, anxious people being able to achieve peace. True encounters with influential people, will definitely change the person. Can we then deny that Christ or God does not exist, even for those who've met Christ and truly changed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7347334151569237152?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7347334151569237152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7347334151569237152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7347334151569237152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7347334151569237152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/encounter.html' title='encounter'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2524350518782750485</id><published>2007-11-15T23:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T00:24:38.823+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>purpose</title><content type='html'>This question is something that comes back over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said in another way: Why am I here on earth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Purpose driven life. Pastors preaching. Leaders sharing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self help books. Well known gurus. Subtle messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have we truly found out why we are doing what we are doing? In fact, sometimes we think we know we are, but we are deceived and hence we can't live a fruitful life. Constantly keeping busy in battle with the situation/job/studies we are in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told this to my friend today, because I believe, like all else, this person needed to find the purpose God has set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another excerpt from The Face of Atheism by Ravi Zacharias:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;The life of the Scotsman Eric Liddell, who was a devout Christian and a superb athlete, was featured in contradistinction to Harold Abrams in the film Chariots of Fire. Abrams, we recall, underscored his emptiness by finding even winning to be anticlimactic. Liddell's life, and his striving for excellence, was an expression of his love for God - everything mattered because his life was  committed to Christ. The lines in the film that capture this best are uttered by Liddell to his sister: "Jenny, God has made me for a purpose - for China; but he has also made me fast, and when I run, I feel his pleasure."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Liddell won the 400 meters gold medal in the 1924 Olympics and later became a missionary to China, where he died. His enjoyment of God in every endeavor and service for Christ was a strong reminder that nothing for the Christian is essentially secular. It can only be secularized by leaving God out of it or by engaging in that from which God, by his nature, must be excluded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A christian sees life in continuum. Not about yesterday, not just about today, nor does one gaze and hope only for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;The christian explains history through the eternal eyes of Christ. By contrast, the traditionalist lives for the past; the existentialist lives for the now; and the futurist or utopianist lives for the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true. A christian lives in a different mindset. Knowing what his purpose is, it's so much easier (although not easy) to handle ups and downs, or obstacles. A runner in the secular sense, would run to win the next gold medal, to qualify for the next big event, like the  Olympics, but then when that runner reaches there, then what? What happens when the days are up, and the runner can no longer run as fast, or compete with the rest of the incoming young crowd?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the christian runner, runs because he knows of his purpose. He knows that God gave him the body to run, that whenever he does it, he glorifies God, as God's beautiful creation. He runs not to win, but to please God. Simple, yet hard to grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this so called battle of living, we place ourselves in a dog eat dog world, and when all dogs are eaten, leaving one, then what? We work ourselves so hard, we do so much, but for what?&lt;br /&gt;When we finally come to realization of what's Gods purpose is for us, we can do it with full passion. Just like the footballer who plays beautiful football because of passion, and not out of drive to win the match, we will soon find ourselves no longer in a battle to survive, but fully driven by God's beautiful purpose for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2524350518782750485?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2524350518782750485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2524350518782750485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2524350518782750485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2524350518782750485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/purpose.html' title='purpose'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7217658709920396339</id><published>2007-11-14T22:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T22:20:17.695+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>relationships</title><content type='html'>I'm sure that caught your eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of relationships, no matter what we say, we crave it. Friendships, parent-child relationships, boy-girl relationships. It's real. We can't deny it. Without it, we are truly lonely.&lt;br /&gt;And we all know, no man is an island. It is true. Even the madman would try to have a relationship with someone, and hence talks to himself for company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole big problem about relationships, is that somehow sooner or later, they can be severed. People get disappointed, hearts get broken, expectations not met. Others, are broken from death, death from illness, death from murder, death from suicide. Death from sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships severed by sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By a drunken driver who hit a pedestrian. By the robber, who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; wanted more money the easy way, kills someone by accident in the heat of the moment. The father who commits suicide because someone had cheated all his cash. A lover jilted, due to selfish reasons. Lung cancer of inhaling second hand smoke. Unable to reconnect due to unforgiveness. Bitterness. Hate. Jealousy. Rage. Malice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bringing his point to an end, Ravi Zacharias quickly summarized all he has said earlier, in his book The Face of Atheism:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;If relationships bring meaning to life, then the ultimate mockery of life is the reality that all relationships are either ruptured by sin or severed by death. Each of us longs for a relationship that cannot be victimized by sin or destroyed by death. That relationship can only be found with God. Once that relationship is established, it serves as a blueprint for all other relationships, bringing the strength of genuine love and shunning the cancer of selfishness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was very well written. Like the child who is seeing his/her father for the first time after some time of separation, that child would want to run towards a relationship, in which the child know he/she will be accepted with open arms. God will accept all of us that way. As long as we meet Him halfway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7217658709920396339?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7217658709920396339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7217658709920396339&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7217658709920396339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7217658709920396339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/relationships.html' title='relationships'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5807512501957230161</id><published>2007-11-13T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:42.028+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>discrimination?</title><content type='html'>This happened last week, but didn't get round to blogging it. So I shall, right now. It isn't so much as a rant, but thought I'd just label it as one.  My sister said this is discrimination, and it most probably is. So here's the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I went to look for my mum and sister in Carrefour, Mid Valley, as they had gone in first. I was carrying my brown bag with me, as I had just come from somewhere else, when at the door, I was stopped! And for what reason? If you can guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wanted to tie my bag. Yes. With one of those plastic ties. I thought it was really absurd. Before any of you can come up with wise comments, the next guy after me who was carrying a waist pouch was also stopped. The same was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me explain why I say discrimination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy after me? His pouch was so small, he could prob sneak in a choc bar with some sweets at most. Even if my bag was much bigger, it's totally ridiculous to put a plastic tie on my bag.&lt;br /&gt;My sister and my mum who were carrying bigger bags than mine, were not tied up. Many other women's bags too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why mine and the other guys? Cause we looked young, and we were of male gender?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ridonkeylous. If Jusco doesn't practice this, nor does Cold Storage, or Giant Supermarket, WHY oh WHY does CARREFOUR have to have this extra security measure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYHOW. Here's a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It best describes my frustration (?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rzm54fyGZII/AAAAAAAAAD0/l-3MW7d3bYk/s1600-h/Image035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rzm54fyGZII/AAAAAAAAAD0/l-3MW7d3bYk/s320/Image035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132337630620836994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If u can see the plastic tie between the zip and the big metal bit which holds the strap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5807512501957230161?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5807512501957230161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5807512501957230161&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5807512501957230161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5807512501957230161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/discrimination.html' title='discrimination?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rzm54fyGZII/AAAAAAAAAD0/l-3MW7d3bYk/s72-c/Image035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7835250438717040108</id><published>2007-11-09T22:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T23:02:50.781+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>refreshed</title><content type='html'>After the weeks of being drained, I think I'm ready again to take on some challenges. Get some work done. Sleep less. Don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord is my banner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Moses built that altar for God, I imagined myself walking a march, holding a banner that was really the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all comes back to Phil 4:13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to be like Moses, or like Elijah. Whomever  who had more faith :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7835250438717040108?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7835250438717040108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7835250438717040108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7835250438717040108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7835250438717040108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/refreshed.html' title='refreshed'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1910507488427372320</id><published>2007-11-08T22:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T23:23:25.117+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='provoking thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>logic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;"As far as the propositions of mathematic refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality".   - Albert Einstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are essentially creatures of logic. We love explanations, we love to find out why something happens, and more importantly, it must be something that's tangible or physical enough for plain sight to see. For an object to move from point A to point B, we MUST see it move. If by the blink of the eye, it disappears at point A and reappears in point B, the first question that comes to mind is probably: How did that happen? If we saw it move with our own eyes, then it wouldn't have been a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a tough season this past few weeks. Besides feeling a little de-motivated for whatever reason, I've just been feeling lethargic. Maybe it was just hard for me to see past the many obstacles I see before me, maybe I just didn't think some one like me, could be successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all about faith. Faith ends when doubt begins, and faith begins when doubts end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no logic in faith. Or else, as Ravi Zacharias said in his book, kids will never be able to believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1910507488427372320?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1910507488427372320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1910507488427372320&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1910507488427372320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1910507488427372320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/logic.html' title='logic'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4249841044705500190</id><published>2007-11-02T23:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T23:18:48.874+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>God is good! :)</title><content type='html'>Was told to put this up, and finally have decided to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 6:33 says But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness,&lt;br /&gt;and all these things will be given to you as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a verse long familiar to me, but not something i  practiced.&lt;br /&gt;The excuse was always the same: my studies were tough, it was not easy&lt;br /&gt;to pass, and I had a lot of ground to cover. In short, I had a hundred&lt;br /&gt;and one excuses, and never wanted to spend more than the allocated&lt;br /&gt;time I had put aside for God's work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season, as I prepared for USMLE, an entrance exam to apply to the&lt;br /&gt;United States, I was really convicted to do more for God's kingdom&lt;br /&gt;first before anything else. I had about 2 months to prepare for my&lt;br /&gt;Step 2 exam (part of the USMLE) and about another 1.5 months after&lt;br /&gt;that to prepare for my Step 1 exam. It was very easy for me to delay&lt;br /&gt;serving in campus ministry as 3.5 months wasn't a long way off right?&lt;br /&gt;However, I was really convicted to be faithful even while I was busy&lt;br /&gt;because, I knew that a lot of times procrastination would only kill&lt;br /&gt;off a desire,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my 2 month preparation and my gruelling 8 hour ++ exam, I was&lt;br /&gt;finally done. I couldn't tell if I did okay or not, but I committed it&lt;br /&gt;to God. A few weeks later, my results was in my inbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I passed! With a 90th percentile. It was a big deal for me, because I&lt;br /&gt;was never an 'A' student, so to both pass and score sufficiently well,&lt;br /&gt;I knew it could only come from God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing I really learned from this whole ordeal was that if I&lt;br /&gt;honor God, He will honor me too! When I chose to spend time doing His&lt;br /&gt;work, instead of saying "I need to study", He blessed me tremendously.&lt;br /&gt;It was not an easy ordeal to cram almost 5 years of knowledge into 2&lt;br /&gt;months of studying, and at the same time do His work. I truly believe&lt;br /&gt;that if we give God our time and our efforts, and trust in Him, He&lt;br /&gt;will never let us down, as all things are indeed possible with God!&lt;br /&gt;When we seek His kingdom first and His righteousness, many things WILL&lt;br /&gt;be added onto us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4249841044705500190?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4249841044705500190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4249841044705500190&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4249841044705500190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4249841044705500190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/11/god-is-good.html' title='God is good! :)'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6381250829270396794</id><published>2007-10-29T17:29:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T17:37:35.896+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>what comes first</title><content type='html'>This is a season of choosing and figuring out what's best to do and not. With much free time in&lt;br /&gt;hand, I am given multiple options to fill my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS 2, books, meeting up people, guitar, playing board games, fine tuning my voice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I'm not doing anything too interesting, to the point I am writing a post like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What triggered this thought though is, really, in this time of having just TOO much time on my hands (okay, don't quote me on this), it's hard to choose what to do first. Anyone with good ideas on how to prioritize? Or rather, how to get my butt moving on the list on what needs to be done first? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: Okay.... I admit, this is a filler post, while waiting to play board games... tum ti tum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="label-list"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6381250829270396794?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6381250829270396794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6381250829270396794&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6381250829270396794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6381250829270396794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-comes-first.html' title='what comes first'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1536749912823951516</id><published>2007-10-18T18:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T19:02:57.354+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>choice</title><content type='html'>The greatest gift to mankind is choice, because without the power to choose, we are merely like robots or computers, only processing information, but never coming to a conclusion of what to do, only suggesting what may be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole conversation on choice, has brought me to think of certain examples of people I know. There are the ones who don't like to make any choices, or rather choose to not make any further choices, and then there are those, who choose to do everything and in their progress make it very obvious to be seen and known (the ones I'd like to call the extremist, whether be it the terrorist or the authoritarian).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It irks me that sometimes there we don't practice things like the black and white it can be, but to think about it, we can't, because we are humans, and for the same reason, we are given choice, we are made to be so unpredictable to each other. Everything else however should be somewhat made clear cut. The law, between good and bad, light and darkness, tasty and horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we draw that same line for ourselves? Or we'd rather see a blur of a line so that we can jump over blameless, merely as the 'line was not to be seen'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am what I choose to be, and it's the same for everyone else. Not one person can say they were forced to out of a situation, because at the end of the day, to be honest, we all have to account for our own actions. We have freedom of choice, but let us truly understand the extent of our choice(s).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1536749912823951516?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1536749912823951516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1536749912823951516&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1536749912823951516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1536749912823951516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/10/choice.html' title='choice'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8782487371064154483</id><published>2007-10-17T02:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T03:03:24.621+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>i'm back</title><content type='html'>Hiatus for a while...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. Not with a vengeance.&lt;br /&gt;Truly it has been refreshing, to just take time off to gather thoughts and what not. As I continue to observe many things, I have learned lots. Indeed, it pays sometimes to just keep quiet and slip to the back, and watch what's really going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not an emo post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaders retreat, I've gained even more insight on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to end this brief post with just one question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes us who we are?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8782487371064154483?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8782487371064154483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8782487371064154483&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8782487371064154483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8782487371064154483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-back.html' title='i&apos;m back'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5518952483969903226</id><published>2007-10-02T21:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T21:05:27.663+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>hiatus</title><content type='html'>While everyone is starting new blogs, I'm going to go on a word/blog hiatus for now. Just need to gather thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZZZzzzZZZzzz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5518952483969903226?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5518952483969903226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5518952483969903226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5518952483969903226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5518952483969903226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/10/hiatus.html' title='hiatus'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6764059921456871500</id><published>2007-09-29T13:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T04:00:56.359+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>are who we say we are? (part 2)</title><content type='html'>How are we supposed to tell the world, we are christians, which basically means followers of Christ, if we don't follow what He says?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds a bit like an emo blog, but it isn't really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not so much of a complaint, more so a rhetorical question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know, as a christian we are constantly being watched?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have we ever thought that, what we do, may affect one's decision to come to know God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not to say, that I'm a perfect shining example, but....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;1Cor 10:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" id="en-NIV-28583" class="sup" &gt;31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" id="en-NIV-28584" class="sup" &gt;32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God— &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" id="en-NIV-28585" class="sup" &gt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;even as I try to please everybody in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of many, so that they may be saved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Be careful of your every action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to be careful with mine too. I really don't want someone quoting me, in a "Why as a christian he does&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; this&lt;/span&gt;?".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6764059921456871500?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6764059921456871500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6764059921456871500&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6764059921456871500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6764059921456871500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/are-who-we-say-we-are-part-2.html' title='are who we say we are? (part 2)'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4538345096279676850</id><published>2007-09-27T01:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T02:21:16.457+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reunion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>class 10</title><content type='html'>A bit of a sappy one this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my classmates from Class 10, Taylors, and to be more accurate, I met the people whom I used to hang out a lot with, while I was doing my A Level. Kevin, Shu Pinn, Grace, Yee Li, and I were really like 5 peas in a pod (did I get that right? 5 is a bit too many isn't it?). We hung out every weekend unless there were circumstances that prevented us from doing so, we ate together, had our own inside jokes and even BGR, but as life carried on, we all moved on our own separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shu Pinn went on to do IT while his gf, Grace graduated as a mechanical engineer. Yee Li is on her way to be a true doctor (PhD yo!) in something that's related to chemical engineering, Kev and I went to IMU to pursue careers in medicine. The last time we all gathered like this, was about 4 years ago, and the next time we'll meet again, will probably be years away. It's funny how we used to travel on holidays together, but now we travel with different people. We hang out with different people, we are closer to different people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always remember our jokes, our cutting classes to play games (oops!) and how we imparted life to each other some way or another. No pics here, because didn't bring a camera.&lt;br /&gt;To Kevin and Yee Li, whom I might not see for a while, it was good meeting up like old times, in that old mamak stall that was our weekly meeting place as we discussed plenty of... interesting topics (like where to go the next day), catching up with each other.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you both the best in everything you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The memories shall last forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh... the sappiness. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4538345096279676850?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4538345096279676850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4538345096279676850&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4538345096279676850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4538345096279676850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/class-10.html' title='class 10'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8040156855762173676</id><published>2007-09-24T01:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T02:11:18.060+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>are you who you say you are?</title><content type='html'>A very wordy, repetitive title, but decided to blog quickly about this before I go to bed, just as I was reading something that caught my eye, and it stimulated the brain juices a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past decade, there have been quite a few people who have been placed in the role of a leader, and one thing often done is, them quoting that God is their running mate (quote from Micheal Kinsley's article in Time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Micheal Kinsley in his article was basically saying, that these days, it's important for presidential candidates to wear their religion on their sleeve. What he said about, how a government is run, and how one's belief system cannot be separated, is very true. He used the example of Mormonism list of no-nos, which include no alcohol, tea, coffee and such forms of sexual behavior as "passionate kissing" outside wedlock, and how if a candidate has to both hold on to his beliefs and at the same time impose these laws, it would be an issue. It would really be difficult for him to be a good President and a good Mormon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true. We don't have to go as far as being a presidential candidate to have to ask this question. Simply because, the day we start saying we are Christian, we have to act like one. We have to act like followers of Christ, not just people who are following behind, but people imitating Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's bad enough that people think, the bible is just another book on the shelf of a bookstore, it's worse that we don't follow it enough convincingly, and do what we are supposed to do. It makes the case much worse, because not only are people not convinced that the bible is not the word from God, but the book that we are supposed to follow its commands, we don't treasure well enough, and cannot make it a strong enough case for people to see it is truly FROM God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you who you say you are?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8040156855762173676?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8040156855762173676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8040156855762173676&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8040156855762173676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8040156855762173676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/are-you-who-you-say-you-are.html' title='are you who you say you are?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7114192568547038618</id><published>2007-09-23T16:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T16:30:59.209+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>where are we headed?</title><content type='html'>It's rather disturbing, to say the least, that the moral values in this country has really reached the point of being so low, that it's almost to scary to think that one can go out safely. The streets are no longer what it used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I talking about? All Malaysians would have heard of the latest shocking news, of a 8 year old girl, kidnapped, sexually abused before murdered, to be left in a gym bag in front of someone's shop lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where has this country been heading all this while? Is this the price of development, that we let loose of our moral values? Do we no longer know God or fear the repercussions of our own doing? So bad has this country plunged in its outlook towards certain things, that some other issues are not deemed to be as 'bad' or as 'evil', just because something else like this pops up. Everything is becoming relative, as people's believes are shifted with the times, with nothing to anchor them as such, to tell them what's right and what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you Malaysians who are not currently at home, please, please be the one to stand in the gap, and pray for this nation. This country, our home, needs help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7114192568547038618?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7114192568547038618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7114192568547038618&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7114192568547038618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7114192568547038618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-are-we-headed.html' title='where are we headed?'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7237071114702190913</id><published>2007-09-21T00:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T00:45:56.682+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>and...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;FREEDOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/6/6e/Brave_mel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/6/6e/Brave_mel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe was a certain phrase used by Sir William Wallace in the movie Braveheart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally done with exams. Will update more soon. But thanks for the prayers and wishes. Meant a lot to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7237071114702190913?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7237071114702190913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7237071114702190913&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7237071114702190913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7237071114702190913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/and.html' title='and...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6523930575222074103</id><published>2007-09-17T13:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T21:29:04.215+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>trust</title><content type='html'>The recurring theme this time round as I prepare for my exams (this Thurs), is really the issue of trust. Just looking at my preparation up to this point, I feel is inadequate, for whatever reason, I am uncertain. It's been really hard for my to sit and face God, as I feel that I have not done sufficiently in what I'm supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;But since when has it been about what I do anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, we sang the song that basically to me, talks about trusting God's name. There is no other name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week prior, I read Luke 11, it talks about asking, and Jesus gave the example of asking from a friend in the middle of the night, and how it would be given to the person not out of friendship but out of his tenacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as I read Isaiah 30, there were a few key reminders as to who I'm supposed to trust.&lt;br /&gt;Observe closely. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From verse 15 onwards:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;15 This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;16 You said, ' No, we will flee on horses.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Therefore you will flee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;You said, 'We will ride off on swift horses.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Therefore your pursuers will be swift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;18 Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;19 People of Zion, who live in Jerusalem, you will weep no more. How gracious he will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears, he will answer you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who is it that I trust? It's easy to prepare oneself to go into battle, having the best horses to ride you in battle, with the best weapons and best armor, the biggest number between the two sides, but does that necessarily  equate victory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also, read psalms 20:7 and Luke 11:5-13.&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/18746633-6523930575222074103?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6523930575222074103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6523930575222074103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6523930575222074103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6523930575222074103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/trust.html' title='trust'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2985334776271661442</id><published>2007-09-11T13:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T13:05:49.075+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>still alive and well...</title><content type='html'>For now at least. With everyone falling sick due to some common cold, (akin to flies dropping dead post-insecticide) I'm still standing. Hopefully until after my exam. I really must not get sick at this moment in time. With a week left in hand, I really need to play catch up with a lot of studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clock is ticking once again. What will happen with this round of exams, I am uncertain. We'll see. I can only trust in Him who has set plans for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just a quick update about my life at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to let everyone know that I'm still alive and well, and to thank everyone who has been keeping me in prayer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2985334776271661442?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2985334776271661442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2985334776271661442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2985334776271661442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2985334776271661442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/still-alive-and-well.html' title='still alive and well...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5480560412318745630</id><published>2007-09-05T22:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T22:34:48.308+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>I thank Him...</title><content type='html'>For the longest time, I don't know what to put for a blog title. I could not think of a suitable title, without it sounding too cliched or overused, but in all honesty, as simple and as plain as it is, that is how I feel deep down inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I continue my journey studying for my USMLE step 1 which is on Sept 20, I am in faith, that God knows what He is doing, even if I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I would like to share WHY I am thankful to begin with. Today, as I checked my email accountS (yes more than ONE), I stumbled upon a result email that came in. Yes. Lo and behold, right before my very eyes, were the result for Step 2CK. Something that I have been dreading as I  really could not gauge how well I did for this exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After clicking here and there, downloading the results, I said a little prayer and committed it to God, then I opened it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bla bla bla...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continue scanning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw a pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looked further down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;219.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That moment, the background music was Chris Tomlin's 'Your Grace Is Enough', and tears just starting flowing from my eyes. I repeated over and over again: Thank You God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so significant? Well, for all those who don't know me that well, I am not an 'A' student, and I've always been just one to get by. To score 90 was beyond my wildest dreams. Some might say, it's not a 99%, but honestly, God is good. All the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am constantly reminded by this verse as this happened to me today -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You God!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5480560412318745630?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5480560412318745630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5480560412318745630&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5480560412318745630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5480560412318745630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-thank-him.html' title='I thank Him...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-549336255300040440</id><published>2007-09-04T23:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T23:35:04.722+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>still alive</title><content type='html'>Just a little blog to just say I'm alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is I have too much on my mind that I want to talk about, but I'm not sure where to start, so until I figure that one out, or get out of m y lazy chair, and put on my thinking cap, it isn't going to come anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I still have not caught up on my sleep, and I still have quite a few things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was my independence weekend? It was good, as I was at DIVE IN 2007 camp. I was not a participant there, but as a facilitator, which all real divers would know that it's also known as a dive master. It was truly a good time, seeing how people were having fun in the games prepared and awesome that people received from the Holy Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I liked having meeting new people, although my time was really limited, but what's better, is that I look like a ghost right now, and if I keep it up, I won't need a costume for Halloween. That or I could just wrap myself in toilet paper and be a mummy. OR, I could crash in bed, and dress up as that boy who goes to bed and covers his head so that no ghosts can see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-549336255300040440?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/549336255300040440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=549336255300040440&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/549336255300040440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/549336255300040440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/09/still-alive.html' title='still alive'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8561446488676476818</id><published>2007-08-31T00:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T00:39:48.783+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>merdeka</title><content type='html'>Merdeka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merdeka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merdeka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The famous shout repeated 7 times on 31st Aug 1957, when independence was first declared. Any true Malaysian would be able to identify with this phrase. A phrase sometimes to casually said, but not thought thoroughly what it means to be throughly INDEPENDENT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We as citizens of this country, did not have to endure the many promises of a foreign government to develop this land, nor did we have to fight any battles to defend the place we call home. We did not have to live on potatoes or yam hidden in loose floorboards of the home, or under burnt soil, live in fear day to day, worried that soldiers may return at any point of time to ravage the village we live in. We did not have to negotiate for freedom, we did not have to fight for it, and yet today, we live fully in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we truly know what freedom or independence is? Or is it just patriotic songs, the Jalur Gemilang flag, lots of fireworks the night prior, or even the parade on independence day itself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 50th Independence Day, Malaysia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if we groan and moan about many things sometimes, I believe we are still proud to be Malaysians!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8561446488676476818?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8561446488676476818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8561446488676476818&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8561446488676476818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8561446488676476818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/merdeka.html' title='merdeka'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4923886661020409652</id><published>2007-08-27T21:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T21:24:54.771+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>a long way to go</title><content type='html'>This country that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as the mentality does not change, the country cannot change. I have to admit, there are a few things this country is doing right in changing the minds of the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or at least I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, sometimes, I think people who are above a certain age are a lost cause, as they really stick to what they believe in, and as for the young? I don't know, I think their mind are consumed by other things of this world. Ie: blog, internet, MSN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disagree? I bet most of you would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day as I face different situations, I ask myself, how in the world is this country ever going to change. After learning today, that I'm not getting my first paycheck anytime soon, by the current company that employs me, I was furious, but yet slightly just too tired to pursue and push. My pay for 1.5 months? I'll only see it next month, and better yet, probably the end of next month. After the rude encounter with a personnel in the finance dept., and still no pay, it's really hard to make further commentary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the young, well, don't get me started. That is for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This country that is trying to push forward and be a developed nation, is not at it's best. I have to say, we have come a long way since 50 years ago, but we still have a long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question of the day would be: what am I doing to change things?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4923886661020409652?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4923886661020409652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4923886661020409652&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4923886661020409652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4923886661020409652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/long-way-to-go.html' title='a long way to go'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6088827564033203889</id><published>2007-08-27T02:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T02:29:12.849+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>disappointment</title><content type='html'>Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disappointment. Don't worry, it's not so much of a rant than it is a way of both expressing myself and at the same time, evaluating things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, things just don't work the way we want them too, we get disappointed, and if it's long enough we get jaded. So, is disappointment a good thing or a bad thing? It really can deter some people from doing the right thing. I guess I'm learning even more, that things truly can't go the way we want it to MORE frequently than I think it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So am I disappointed? Yes. I am. Am I discouraged? In more than one way, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, just remember what pastor had to say yesterday about being an overcomer, I'll have to just overcome it. After all, good comes to all who love Him and does His work right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get back onto the saddle, and start moving forward. No pity party here. Slight frustration, but it does not equate nor justify my avoiding the fact of things and pushing forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is, I fully put my trust in the One that gave me purpose and life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6088827564033203889?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6088827564033203889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6088827564033203889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6088827564033203889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6088827564033203889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/disappointment.html' title='disappointment'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7505691630454933328</id><published>2007-08-24T23:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:42.367+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>the day i became...</title><content type='html'>...a bright eyed, fresh, positive junior, full of expectation, dreams, altruism, and not yet worn out by the troubles of medical school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a little strange for me to be in the orientation all over again. I had a billion things to do, (like studying) but I had decided to join the orientation to get to know some juniors. (No, not looking for a girl, especially one that is like 6 years younger than I am!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really different to be one of them. Their reaction towards me, was totally different as they treated me as one of their own. No, I'm not trying to return to my youth either, in case you were thinking that. I just found it amusing that status can change so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, the pre and post of discovery that I was in fact a senior, changed how they looked at me, greeted me, talked to me. One person, who in fact wasn't a junior at all, was totally afraid of speaking to me after that. Weird..... really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say, we are really colleagues. Please if you see me don't call me senior, or super super senior even if I am. Our goals are all the same. I'm not here to be of a higher position than any of you. Of course, don't take me for some person you could step on, because that won't bode well with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a photo of the group:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rs8E8aCSt1I/AAAAAAAAADM/NnlpMHYf7AE/s1600-h/DSCN1012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 262px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rs8E8aCSt1I/AAAAAAAAADM/NnlpMHYf7AE/s320/DSCN1012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102302338661660498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hope they enjoy orientation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7505691630454933328?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7505691630454933328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7505691630454933328&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7505691630454933328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7505691630454933328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/day-i-became.html' title='the day i became...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rs8E8aCSt1I/AAAAAAAAADM/NnlpMHYf7AE/s72-c/DSCN1012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8273361624683657369</id><published>2007-08-23T11:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T11:18:19.245+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>Funny</title><content type='html'>It's funny, how I've suddenly been turned into a bright-eyed, fresh meat in a medical campus. For crying out loud, the idea of me joining orientation is not just ridiculous, but just absolutely retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it's not that funny. I'll update more tonight. I'm sure most of you will have that bewildered look on your faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you do, please take a photo of yourself and send it in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8273361624683657369?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8273361624683657369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8273361624683657369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8273361624683657369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8273361624683657369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/funny.html' title='Funny'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1908917196974468782</id><published>2007-08-20T02:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:43.034+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>new additions..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG8KCStxI/AAAAAAAAACs/4bYv8wf31yM/s1600-h/IMG_0764.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG8KCStxI/AAAAAAAAACs/4bYv8wf31yM/s320/IMG_0764.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100474946041329426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My white empty wall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG86CStyI/AAAAAAAAAC0/82F-BcP7qrw/s1600-h/IMG_0768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG86CStyI/AAAAAAAAAC0/82F-BcP7qrw/s320/IMG_0768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100474958926231330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After 2 hours of figuring out what's best in terms of drilling and using the right screws...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG9aCStzI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uTPIIzAJfcY/s1600-h/IMG_0770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG9aCStzI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uTPIIzAJfcY/s320/IMG_0770.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100474967516165938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Close up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG96CSt0I/AAAAAAAAADE/86qXJNoxz4g/s1600-h/IMG_0772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG96CSt0I/AAAAAAAAADE/86qXJNoxz4g/s320/IMG_0772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100474976106100546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A mask my sister bought from Africa for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1908917196974468782?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1908917196974468782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1908917196974468782&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1908917196974468782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1908917196974468782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-additions.html' title='new additions..'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsiG8KCStxI/AAAAAAAAACs/4bYv8wf31yM/s72-c/IMG_0764.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5560310520726052662</id><published>2007-08-17T00:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:44.365+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>the semi orange room</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3PaCStsI/AAAAAAAAACE/B_DT_8N8CSY/s1600-h/IMG_0759.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3PaCStsI/AAAAAAAAACE/B_DT_8N8CSY/s320/IMG_0759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099331784660924098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My work station&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3RqCSttI/AAAAAAAAACM/ncbBzEAurSc/s1600-h/IMG_0760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3RqCSttI/AAAAAAAAACM/ncbBzEAurSc/s320/IMG_0760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099331823315629778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Clothes rack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3UqCStuI/AAAAAAAAACU/yncOI-7-Gbw/s1600-h/IMG_0761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3UqCStuI/AAAAAAAAACU/yncOI-7-Gbw/s320/IMG_0761.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099331874855237346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The center of my room?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3YKCStvI/AAAAAAAAACc/_nnOwoMKqL4/s1600-h/IMG_0762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3YKCStvI/AAAAAAAAACc/_nnOwoMKqL4/s320/IMG_0762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099331934984779506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Beloved guitar resting on the floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3aqCStwI/AAAAAAAAACk/_UwrNRvROxU/s1600-h/IMG_0763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3aqCStwI/AAAAAAAAACk/_UwrNRvROxU/s320/IMG_0763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099331977934452482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The seat beckons me back to studies. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5560310520726052662?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5560310520726052662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5560310520726052662&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5560310520726052662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5560310520726052662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/semi-orange-room.html' title='the semi orange room'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RsR3PaCStsI/AAAAAAAAACE/B_DT_8N8CSY/s72-c/IMG_0759.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5540116900586543522</id><published>2007-08-16T01:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T21:44:13.326+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhetorical questions'/><title type='text'>we are family</title><content type='html'>No, contrary to what you are thinking, I'm not singing the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, after lots of thinking, the one thing I've come to realize, with being a christian, is that, I'm really part of a bigger family. Sometimes, it's hard to see that. Sometimes, we treat each other just as friends, or just another person on the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, is that, it isn't really true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, a christian can be so unlikeable to the point of risking strangulation, but still when in need, will be helped by fellow brothers or sisters (of course, they have to know that this person is in trouble). Why? Some might say, it's because they are all christians and they should do good, or purely because of namesake that they ARE christians. I used to want to believe that there is a greater bond than that. Now, I know for sure, it is purely for the reason that, we are of the same family, the same Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How DID I come to this conclusion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was younger, more stubborn, more irritating, a rebel, I remember of people who stood by me and guided me, even when I refused guidance. Really. I was quite the stubborn donkey.&lt;br /&gt;Now, it's my turn to lead and chance getting kicked by the donkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we sometimes to proud to be in a family who will help and guide us along the way? For a lot of us, rather be in our own circle, and remain in that private circle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5540116900586543522?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5540116900586543522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5540116900586543522&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5540116900586543522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5540116900586543522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/we-are-family.html' title='we are family'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-347094860868054252</id><published>2007-08-13T19:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T10:44:12.560+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>you know you are...</title><content type='html'>hanging out with girls too much when:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The only people on your text and call list are mostly girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You start acting like them, ie: learn  how to merajuk (although not all girls are like that). My fav look from them is still -.- HAHA, or start to sigh a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. They ask you, or rather BUG you to show them a picture of yourself cross dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Soon enough, you'll be recruited into the yaya sisterhood or the sisterhood of the traveling pants or what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Start playing with hair, twisting hair with finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Blinking eyes to make that 'cute' look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stopping here, for risk of getting 'whacked', 'scratched' or given dirty looks. Just in case: this is just humor, not meant to pick on anyone in particular. So, please, don't send me msgs about me being sexist, or rude or etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-347094860868054252?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/347094860868054252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=347094860868054252&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/347094860868054252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/347094860868054252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/you-know-you-are.html' title='you know you are...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2751127508444589702</id><published>2007-08-10T01:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T02:01:13.624+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>clarification</title><content type='html'>About my previous blog entry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.... it's YOU, I HATE YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to clarify, I was just trying to illustrate my point on loving and shepherding all of God's children. Yes. I know. It means, the believers, but I also see it as everyone. (There can be bad sheep who don't listen to the shepherd right?). I was just trying to say, I am compelled to love all, despite qualities I dislike (to put in daintily). It's just in line with the whole, God loves you no matter who you are, in spite of race, color, culture, background, how one lives their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other matters, I must say, the members in my life group are IMPRESSIVE! I know it might not mean much, but if this was a performance, I would give all of you a standing ovation. This people were sensational, from giving up their time, car (I'm so sorry about your car, I really hope your dad doesn't kill you, because if he does, I don't mind taking your place. Sorry!), their place, their culinary skills, invitational skills, their talking skills and what not. God bless them over and over again until their stores houses overflow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do hope we managed to bless the new students who came in. I remember first coming to IMU, and how it was a very very strange place to me. I remember, trying to get friends by doing things for their approval. Peer pressure. What else. I hope that these people will bring back a little something as they go home, and also to trigger them into letting (if even a little) the God factor in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People of IMU LG, you did beyond awesome tonight, you performed better than the best entertainers on stage. You did what was pleasing in God's eyes, and all heaven is rejoicing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good job!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2751127508444589702?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2751127508444589702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2751127508444589702&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2751127508444589702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2751127508444589702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/clarification.html' title='clarification'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8500928214937971181</id><published>2007-08-08T00:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T00:39:11.270+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>i hate....</title><content type='html'>I hate people who don't think, but just shoot their mouth. I hate how people try to take advantage of me when I'm nice. I hate how nasty people can be when I'm being polite. I hate smart comments for the sake of it, or for the sake of argument, just to show who's on top and who's boss. I hate people who don't get their facts right and assume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate...&lt;br /&gt;I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate...&lt;br /&gt;I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate...&lt;br /&gt;I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate...&lt;br /&gt;I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate... I hate...I hate... I hate... I hate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so easy to hate or dislike somethings. Just as I was unwinding after a long day (although not the end), God spoke to me very clearly. It was a reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;John 21:15-17&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;"Yes, Lord," he said," you know that I love you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;The third time he said to him, " Simon son of John, do you love me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you  know all things; you know that I love you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"&gt;Jesus said, "Feed my sheep...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I really love His sheep? Am I doing what He would do? I'm trying my level best. It's really easy not to love people especially, when they bug you about things and you have a million other things to do. Or if something else takes priorities, ie: books. It's convenient to love someone when they are in fact, loveable, and when they don't disobey you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I best paint this picture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I say I love Jesus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, am I feeding His sheep?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8500928214937971181?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8500928214937971181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8500928214937971181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8500928214937971181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8500928214937971181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-hate.html' title='i hate....'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2505379696247929299</id><published>2007-08-05T02:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T02:31:41.200+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>tired, but fulfilled</title><content type='html'>I must say. It has been a long 2-3 weeks. So many things that happen, but I must say, God's words has never rung so loud and so clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been tough. Tough to humble myself, swallow my own pride, to allow God to do the things He does. No more complaining out loud, no more whining to people how certain people react and how I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simply because I'm learning to edify people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was never simple to raise, rally or reach people, but today, I realized it was more difficult than I thought. I am learning to appreciate my leaders on a higher level now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as I sang in worship to God, the song Here I Am (by 1 A.M.), I really surrendered all. I felt I managed to come to a place, where I was truly at peace in God's presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This bit especially:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;You said in Your word, oh God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;You have many plans for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Plans of hope, plans of peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I will soar above each and every storm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;and live the dreams You have for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I lay my life for You, I set my faith in You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I did. Whichever that I have not surrendered, I did. If I had not obeyed, I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold to this verse true: John 10:10&lt;br /&gt;The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to claim the fullness that God has offered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2505379696247929299?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2505379696247929299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2505379696247929299&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2505379696247929299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2505379696247929299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/tired-but-fulfilled.html' title='tired, but fulfilled'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2512744939129043332</id><published>2007-08-01T09:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T09:46:39.820+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>one more day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One more day. That day is finally here. My exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;breath breath breath....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This past few weeks have been very confusing for me. There are times where I just didn't want to do anything anymore, and totally give up. Coming home yesterday in Kareem's car, we were chatting, and I told him, although I feel like I'm not totally prepared for this exam, it has been a fulfilling two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a different season for me, as I come to believe that God will bless me and put me in the right place. It's always easy to say, it will not happen and feel it's impossible, and HOPE that God will bless us if we come humbly enough (to the point we profess that we cannot make it through).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the whole day yesterday, as the enemy sent people in my midst to discourage me, I kept thinking of this verse:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;John 20:29 Then Jesus told him," Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to come and appear all full of faith only after I get my results and do sufficiently well. I don't want to cower in fear, and go on day by day, with hopes that my God will bless me.&lt;br /&gt;I want to appear even before my exams, with full knowledge that my God is with me (who can be against me?). To believe before I see. That's what I need and want to do.&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/18746633-2512744939129043332?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2512744939129043332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2512744939129043332&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2512744939129043332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2512744939129043332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-more-day.html' title='one more day'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6404255593330475407</id><published>2007-07-28T12:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T23:10:24.549+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>the countdown</title><content type='html'>Tick tock tick tock. The days quickly slip away from my grip, as I try to prepare myself for the upcoming USMLE step 2. The harder I hold on to my day, the faster it escapes through my fingers. I can see why they call it the sands of time. Each day, I have to come to endure and face the fact that my exam is just around the corner, and I'm nowhere near to being prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panic ensues, as if the sky were soon to fall on my head, as I feel like running helter skelter as the rabbit who thought the world was coming to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 more days 5 more days! Most people would be glad that their exams would soon be over, but I really wish for more days. More time to read and be totally confident before going in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's in times like this I cry out the Lord and ask, "Are you SERIOUS about wanting me to do this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Joshua 1: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" id="en-NIV-5861" class="sup"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt; Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trust will be in God, who knows what He is doing. As opposed to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6404255593330475407?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6404255593330475407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6404255593330475407&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6404255593330475407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6404255593330475407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/countdown.html' title='the countdown'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6497629867607802414</id><published>2007-07-26T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T12:00:32.316+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>only in Malaysia</title><content type='html'>Didn't know the appropriate title for this entry, just something I thought I'd write and make it in tandem with my 40 days for Malaysia tribute. I know. I lack urgency in studying for my exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking to my sister over dinner (ba ku teh, for all those of you who are not home in Malaysia, haw haw), we were just commenting on the many funny things that one could observe while walking the streets or rather sometimes, the broad spaces of a shopping mall. She was just telling me how she saw some girl dressed up in heels, mini skirt, some top and had a flower in her hair. My sister's comment on how she thinks she's on some tropical beach was very befitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To think about it, Malaysia isn't Malaysia, if there weren't the ah lians and ah bengs, and all the oddly dressed people. It wouldn't be Malaysia if there weren't people in the cinema commenting out aloud about the movie everyone else is watching (yes, laugh it up, but it gets irritating when people go, oh look, oh look, it's Gandalf, or when the simplest of plots are questioned, ie: A died because B hated him and hence, killed him).&lt;br /&gt;Only in Malaysia, would a driver run a red light, and stare at the driver who's trying to move on his turn. Of course, not to forget, we have our very own slang. So for all foreigners who want  to fit in, don't forget to add the Malaysia suffixes - lah, mah, loh, ah, ba, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, where can one get so much entertainment without having to spend a single cent? Only in Malaysia. Honestly, sometimes I feel I would not miss this country if I left, but who am I kidding? Where will I source all my jokes? :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6497629867607802414?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6497629867607802414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6497629867607802414&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6497629867607802414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6497629867607802414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/only-in-malaysia.html' title='only in Malaysia'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-3325143405458021345</id><published>2007-07-22T20:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T20:42:14.924+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='this country: my home'/><title type='text'>40 days for Malaysia</title><content type='html'>Many times I've complained about the lack of facilities, the mindset of the people here, or how I dislike the bureaucracy (hope I don't get arrested for making that statement, haha), but I've never stepped up to bring changes or try to at least lend a helping hand in shaping this nation. In short, I've never really called Malaysia my own.&lt;br /&gt;Well, today, in conjunction with NECF's 40 day fasting and prayer for the nation, I shall start my very own tribute for this country I call home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is one who is made of multiple cultures, each unique in itself, coloring her. One, whom I've failed many times over to call my own. Instead I stood to watch and complain, somewhat hoping that one would step up to clean the smear marks on her, to clean her and raise her to be beautiful. It would never be I, who would do anything for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would pray for the things I needed and for all that I wanted, but it never came across my mind. She was the last thing on my mind to be loved, yet the first when it comes to expressing my annoyance on 'how things could be better'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today, as this country continues to walk down the lane of development, I pledge myself to at least pray and fast for this nation, for Malaysia, she is my home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-3325143405458021345?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/3325143405458021345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=3325143405458021345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3325143405458021345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3325143405458021345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/40-days-for-malaysia.html' title='40 days for Malaysia'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-3595950962728840500</id><published>2007-07-20T01:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T15:46:58.081+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>sold out</title><content type='html'>I just bought the album 'Sold out' made by &lt;a href="http://www.1am.com.my/"&gt;ECF&lt;/a&gt;, after going in circles trying to get one. Perhaps I did not make enough effort, but it's finally here, and I've heard it over and over again. I must say, it really does speak to me, especially the song 'sold out' itself, where somewhere in the middle, PC quotes from 1Kings19, where Elisha basically left all that he had, behind as he was called by God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From verse 21 onwards:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So Elisha left him and went back. He took his yoke of oxen an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;d slaughtered them. He burned the plowing equipment to cook the meat and gave it to the people, they ate. Then he set out to follow Elijah and became his attendant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elisha was sold out for God, gave his all in pursuit of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about you? When was the last time we gave up something for God, be it excuses, our time, or something that was really hindering our relationship with God. Will we ever set out hearts to follow God no matter what the circumstances?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe God is already sold out for us, always blessing us and looking out for us.&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it about time we did the same?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-3595950962728840500?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/3595950962728840500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=3595950962728840500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3595950962728840500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3595950962728840500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/sold-out.html' title='sold out'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7607624527966516128</id><published>2007-07-15T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T14:10:59.390+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>sundays</title><content type='html'>Sundays, are the days before Monday. The day before the week starts, before the onslaught of incoming work (be it classes or real work).&lt;br /&gt;It starts off slow, and quiet, unlike all other mornings of the week, then a slow afternoon, incomparable to any other afternoons, the kind where one can just relax, doze off in the heat, while perfect Sunday afternoon music croons in the background.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night ensues, and this is the time I gather my thoughts. Just before Monday blues hit, and time just zooms by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, no matter what, Sundays are special, even with the imminent Monday. I think about what I want to do with the rest of my week, I think about things that happen in the past, places of special memories revisited, mistakes and errors I need to learn from my personal history of fumbles and falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I'm probably feeling so 'emo' right now is because I'm listening to Angela Aki's "Kiss Me Goodbye". Kissing the past of regrets goodbye, I guess?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7607624527966516128?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7607624527966516128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7607624527966516128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7607624527966516128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7607624527966516128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/sundays.html' title='sundays'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2339623378476750986</id><published>2007-07-14T23:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T23:59:51.462+08:00</updated><title type='text'>random</title><content type='html'>Here's a video and also just to test if my steps of posting a video is correct. A bachelor party that I could not attend as I was still away in Canada. Reminds me of Stephen's party. Woo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WpDXVmEtG8A"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WpDXVmEtG8A" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2339623378476750986?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2339623378476750986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2339623378476750986&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2339623378476750986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2339623378476750986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/random.html' title='random'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8277607052918115146</id><published>2007-07-13T13:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T13:32:46.739+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>not at peace, but...</title><content type='html'>This whole week, whether my heart races, or my stomach feels turned inside out, or my bowels feel like it's doing the mexican wave over and over again (not to mention, how there's probably no more mosquitoes in my room due to poisonous gas... phew!).&lt;br /&gt;Why? My exam for one and the reality that has hit my hard over the weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I on earth for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, the renewed desire to want to reach out, shape IMU, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I must say, I really feel God's been speaking to me LOTS this week. Specifically, this whole chapter that I read in 2 Cor 4.&lt;br /&gt;Specifically this few verses: 7-11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Exams? Trials? Tribulations? Motor vehicle accident?&lt;br /&gt;How do we act in this situations? Are we crushed? In despair? At the brink of destruction or already destroyed to bits? Overworked until the point of quiting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Cor 4:16-18&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix out eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen, is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;encouraged beyond words. I don't know about you, but I guess life IS really too short to fret about things to the point that one cannot be fruitful. I want to continue to trust God in all matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;phew. The mexican waves have left. Ai carumba. What a relief! :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/18746633-8277607052918115146?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8277607052918115146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8277607052918115146&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8277607052918115146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8277607052918115146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/not-at-peace-but.html' title='not at peace, but...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5384921993841557770</id><published>2007-07-12T01:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T01:55:51.617+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>what's next</title><content type='html'>Today, the IMU core met, and for the first time, I believe I was doing what I felt IMU should have done in a long time. My only prayer is that, this will not be the first and last, but for many more to come. It'll sound a little too gung ho when I say this, but time to raise a generation for God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spilled my heart out about what I felt we should be doing for IMU, and how we can be a little more deliberate with what we do (notice how I used the word deliberate, haha). Among some of the points I shared was, about how deliberate about doing God's work, be it raising new leaders, following up with people, engaging one to one with new people, or people who have yet to know or come to know Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how when I was still studying in IMU, and how PC or &lt;a href="http://skny.blogspot.com"&gt;Nai Yee&lt;/a&gt; would keep asking us about our progress with people, or teach us ways that were effective, I would listen, but at the same time, I only did when I was asked or what I was asked to. I don't know, whether I was being thick, or just apathetic, I never did quite go past the 'list' on my own initiative.&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, it was fear and pride that halted my progress most of the time, fear of lack of time to study, fear of rejection, fear for a lack of listeners and being prideful, thinking that surely I am doing enough (right?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was praying for the meeting today, I came across 1John 4:18&lt;br /&gt;"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God's perfect love for me, should be more than sufficient to drive me to do all things that is outside my comfort zone. God's love for people and hence, my love for people, should not and cannot be reigned by fear.&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, there's more to that verse that I'm not getting, I'll have to meditate on it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5384921993841557770?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5384921993841557770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5384921993841557770&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5384921993841557770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5384921993841557770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/whats-next.html' title='what&apos;s next'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2006271999532709472</id><published>2007-07-09T13:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:24:06.556+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>the bank people vs bank customer</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I'm trying to cut down the rants and what not, but every time I have a lousy experience or dissatisfying time some place, I feel the need to blog it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, was no less another, really painful, time wasting, turn-red-in-the-face, temperature rising, rage overpowering encounter, when I tried to go to the bank to open a new account.&lt;br /&gt;Let me lay out my 2.5 hours trying to open an account, as simple as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I was told that because my identity card's address was of Melaka and NOT Selangor, I must open an account in Melaka, or bring a bill with my name on it (and of course the address must be in Selangor). So, I went back to the apartment, to do just so, and returned to the bank.&lt;br /&gt;TIME WASTED: about 50 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally get to fill in the form and my application gets processed. ONLY to my dismay, that because I wrote on the form that I was a graduate (I wanted to put Dr for once and not Mr, but wasn't the wisest of ideas) and was working in IMU (which basically made me open the account to begin with for payment purposes), they wanted the full address of the 'company'. To this, I have to thank &lt;a href="http://lishun.blogspot.com"&gt;Li Shun &lt;/a&gt;for helping me out by getting the address.&lt;br /&gt;TIME WASTED: another 20 minutes or so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINALLY, the card is ready, everything is in order, and I had to John Hancock about a dozen times, and the guy says to me, you have to go change the PIN of your ATM (ABM for those in Canada) card, then make a deposit, to which, I was certain he initially said MYR 150. At this point, I thought to myself, "Fortunately, I brought MYR 200 with me", and was happy that I was ready for at least one part of my banking experience. Just as he handed me my new card, he said, "Okay, so go change your PIN, and then go to the deposit machine, and put in MYR 250".&lt;br /&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;MYR 200 was not acceptable to them. I asked. Guess what I had to do?&lt;br /&gt;TIME WASTED: another 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please do tell me, WHY OH WHY can't the services in Malaysia be a little more efficient and user/customer friendly?&lt;br /&gt;The rate I'm  going, I can actually write my own book of Lamentations. I'm serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2006271999532709472?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2006271999532709472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2006271999532709472&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2006271999532709472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2006271999532709472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/bank-people-vs-bank-customer.html' title='the bank people vs bank customer'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5854659641716737030</id><published>2007-07-04T16:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:45.010+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>nachos in Malaysia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RotevLU9IwI/AAAAAAAAAB0/SV5ojJWryCY/s1600-h/nachos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RotevLU9IwI/AAAAAAAAAB0/SV5ojJWryCY/s320/nachos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083260769005282050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RotevbU9IxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/0CG2FEnsmM4/s1600-h/burger%26fries.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RotevbU9IxI/AAAAAAAAAB8/0CG2FEnsmM4/s320/burger%26fries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083260773300249362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about downsizing. This nachos costs MYR 20 (about CAN 6+) compared to the pic below my profile which was CAN 10. Sigh. No more value for money meals. The "sandwich" which looked more like a burger to me was also MYR20. At least I had my fill of Vanilla Coke. Yum....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5854659641716737030?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5854659641716737030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5854659641716737030&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5854659641716737030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5854659641716737030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/nachos-in-malaysia.html' title='nachos in Malaysia'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RotevLU9IwI/AAAAAAAAAB0/SV5ojJWryCY/s72-c/nachos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2376469912593560593</id><published>2007-07-04T11:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T17:19:49.025+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>malaysian brands? pls don't promote it...</title><content type='html'>You know, I really wanted to curb this rant habit, but out of sheer frustration, I had to write it here. If I have the time later, I'm  going to write to the newspapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go on, if you can imagine me shouting this (because I am):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap. I spent the last hour going out to get myself a stand fan, only to realize when I came home, that a part of the fan is missing. How on earth did the fan pass its quality control? I really really want to be someone who can say he's honestly proud of his country, but sometimes, being let down by simple small things like this, can really change one's mind. I thought I'd buy a locally made fan, because, heck it's cheaper than the rest, and I thought it's quality would be comparable, if not it would as least last me long enough before going to machine heaven (the dump).&lt;br /&gt;But NOOooooo, they HAD to prove me wrong. Now I have to spend another hour going back to the shopping center, lugging a heavy box, just to exchange this for a fan that I should have in my room by NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There goes 3 hours of my life today (plus the 3 minutes I'm spending on this blog entry). Thanks a lot Malaysian brand. *with a hint of sarcasm (or a lot)*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frigfrigfrigfrigfrigfrig.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edit: Okay. Just to be more specific. Don't buy Pensonic....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2376469912593560593?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2376469912593560593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2376469912593560593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2376469912593560593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2376469912593560593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/07/malaysian-brands-pls-dont-promote-it.html' title='malaysian brands? pls don&apos;t promote it...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5834063998582724647</id><published>2007-06-30T00:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T01:14:00.947+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>the modern family</title><content type='html'>She took the bag out from the freezer, rushed for time, she was just going to prepare a simple quick meal for the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fries and hamburgers", she thought to herself. Easy, quick, and her kids will have no complaints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had no choice, she had a busy day at work, then soon, she had to send Ling to her tutor's house for extra classes and Jon to a friend's birthday party. Her husband is stuck in his office. Another long meeting for an upcoming project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day in day out, it was always busy at the Tan's residence. Everyone had their schedule full, and especially extra hectic for the working mother. Some nights, dinner was just take out from the nearby fast food restaurant. If diet was how a family was identified, one would not have thought that the Tans were chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as she could think back, they have had not many authentic chinese food, unless those from the local chinese restaurants that swears a hundered and ten percent authenticity, and provides a fortune cookie for each person just to prove the point. The last time she really had any good chinese food, was when she was little, and her mother cooked all the meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumplings, steamed pork, mixed vegetables with mushrooms, a day long boiled soup, food that seems to have disappeared from her daily meals simply because of lack of time. Simply because she had not learnt how to cook it. She never thought it was a skill she had to pick up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this culture of culinary, may just be gone forever. Killed by convenience, the lack of time, or Westernization? Soon, all foods will be the same, and all cultures merged to one. Hopefully, not in my generation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5834063998582724647?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5834063998582724647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5834063998582724647&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5834063998582724647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5834063998582724647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/modern-family.html' title='the modern family'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-98018750141355920</id><published>2007-06-27T16:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T16:47:52.752+08:00</updated><title type='text'>not just a choice of words</title><content type='html'>Quite recently, those who are close to me, would realize that my favorite word is choice. I started using this word a lot because I came to realization that a lot of things are just a matter of choice, whether one does something or not, it's a choice, and I've really come to feel that no one can really force you to do something because it always ALWAYS boils down to: what will you choose to do.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, each choice has it's consequences and hence, one's excuse of not performing a task sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I found 'affection' for another word. The word 'delibrate' came to my attention, and as I thought about it, I started to evaluate myself. How delibrate am I in doing certain things? I say I plan my day out and try to do most of the things I do, but sometimes I just go with the flow. It has come to point in my life, that this is no longer effective. I cannot go prancing in the sunlight hoping that I may stumble upon some treasure along the way, or hope to get doughnuts by throwing flour and sugar into a bowl.  If I want to achieve something, I have to work out the steps and then, perform them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Don't know why it wasn't as clear before. Maybe I forgot to remove the scales of my eyes first. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I have to make a choice, then I have to be delibrate about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for some change around here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-98018750141355920?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/98018750141355920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=98018750141355920&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/98018750141355920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/98018750141355920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/not-just-choice-of-words.html' title='not just a choice of words'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-9180896533704869714</id><published>2007-06-21T11:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T12:05:33.897+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>quick updates</title><content type='html'>Just some quick updates. It's not that I'm too busy, just that my brain is a little too fried up at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My nose hasn't stopped running (not that you really wanted to know htat) and my eyes get red every so often. Yippee! I'm allergic to Malaysia.&lt;br /&gt;2. I've registered for a whole bunch of exams. First one is in Aug. Next one is prob in Sept. Have to work hard and do well. If not, I can kiss residency in the States good bye. Prayers please? :)&lt;br /&gt;3. Getting back in pace, in church here, has been hard, but nonetheless, it's good to be back. I'm being careful about my time.&lt;br /&gt;4. My days are now consistently made of books, meals, meeting people and reading (oh wait, that's the same as books isn't it?). I just pray to God, that I can still be purposeful in the midst of all this.&lt;br /&gt;5. i've also been wondering about friends in Halifax, especially Karemy, who've apparently been too busy to keep in touch. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. The sneezing has started. Nothing a little anti-histamine and coffee can't fix. Or sleep. Or lazing around. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-9180896533704869714?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/9180896533704869714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=9180896533704869714&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/9180896533704869714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/9180896533704869714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/quick-updates.html' title='quick updates'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1309645948783838478</id><published>2007-06-14T18:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T22:20:16.169+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>things that irk me</title><content type='html'>1. I guess the number 1 thing that really bothers me is how the word 'can' is unnecessarily added to a sentence. Wait. I didn't put that right. How 'can' is put at the end of a sentence.&lt;br /&gt;For example:&lt;br /&gt;Wah, that driver is horrible, can?&lt;br /&gt;That baby is so cute, can?&lt;br /&gt;She bought so many at one go, can?&lt;br /&gt;Ugh...... the worse is, I shared it with my sister, and once in a while when she remembers she bugs me about it by adding an extra sentence just to fit it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Malaysian drivers are evil. They don't signal, and when one is trying to turn out onto the road, instead of slowing down and giving way, they speed up and try to hit you.&lt;br /&gt;Malaysian drivers are evil, can? (Argh, I've caught the disease)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The air. My nose is like a leaky faucet. Only, it doesn't drip water. Well, I don't have to share too much here for you to get the pic do I? It doesn't help that people are allowed to smoke at eateries (the cheaper ones anyways).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Food portions that are small, albeit it not being cheap. This leads to me spending more, just to get a good fill. And when I mean good fill, I mean, enough for me not to get hungry 4 hours post meal. Large pizza here is only 12" vs the 16" I'm used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Traffic jams. Man. Just to get out of the housing area during a peak hour, it takes about 15 minutes. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss the good old days of walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The heat. Need I say more? I'm melting........ meltinggggggggggg......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I know, full of complaints aren't I? Well, there are many good things here too, that I'm happy I'm home for. Good friends, good food, and family (not necessarily in that order). I know the Lord has and will bless me wherever I go, and that in itself, is better than any other thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1309645948783838478?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1309645948783838478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1309645948783838478&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1309645948783838478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1309645948783838478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/things-that-irk-me.html' title='things that irk me'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1708101335019257416</id><published>2007-06-13T13:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:45.228+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memoirs of a M&apos;sian boy'/><title type='text'>5240 Kent St</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rm9-TAbwVKI/AAAAAAAAABs/glBNPhP5OTA/s1600-h/5240+kent.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rm9-TAbwVKI/AAAAAAAAABs/glBNPhP5OTA/s320/5240+kent.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075414170068866210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Jeremy: Ian's hair looks tasty        &lt;br /&gt;Taky: Chris is mine.&lt;br /&gt;Anthony: No, he is MINE.&lt;br /&gt;Chris: Guys, there's plenty of me to go around.&lt;br /&gt;Dickson: Are we taking a picture yet? Is there something in my teeth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1708101335019257416?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1708101335019257416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1708101335019257416&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1708101335019257416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1708101335019257416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/memories.html' title='5240 Kent St'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rm9-TAbwVKI/AAAAAAAAABs/glBNPhP5OTA/s72-c/5240+kent.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6274704429608741908</id><published>2007-06-13T12:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T13:08:25.596+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>in love</title><content type='html'>Before I proceed to misled anyone, I must clarify, this post is not about me falling in love. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now moving on to business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about love has always produced many ideas. I have heard of so many discussions about love, whether it's about a BG relationship, a child-parent kind of love, and of course there is also the God and us kind of love. (There's a whole long list for types of love, but I'm not going to dive in that direction. Not today anyways).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During yesterday's campus meeting, there was the discussion of love, because there was a brief discussion about BG relationship. When love and the bible comes into discussion, I believe most people would instantly think about 1 Cor 13 (Myself at least anyways). Many years ago, if you would to ask me, I would say it is a feeling. That's why, when it's silent, I feel like I'm not being loved, or I'm not loving God. It's also  the same reason I use, that everytime I feel a weird euphoric, I claim I am in love. (Hmmm, a bit shallow I was).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always remember during Stephen's stag party, when Josh gave him the advice, that love is not a feeling, that love is a choice, I came to realization that my version of love was somewhat incorrect. It makes a little more sense then that love is patient, love is kind etc, because all this are not innate capabilities. In verse 7 of 1Cor13, it goes on to say, "It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I always used to think that it's only natural that when one loves another, they will protect them from harm, from evil and the whole nine yards. Whether it is family, or a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, this was quoted during the campus meeting yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Philippians 1:9-11&lt;br /&gt;And this is my prayer:that your love may &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight&lt;/span&gt;, so that you may be able to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;discern what is best and&lt;/span&gt; may be&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; pure&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;blameless&lt;/span&gt; until the day of Christ, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;filled with the fruit of righteousness&lt;/span&gt; that comes through Jesus Christ - to the glory and praise of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It speaks on many levels. The one that we talked about yesterday, is between opposite genders. To love a fellow brother or sister, one must be also aware, that in true love, one does not stumble the other, being in friendship or courtship. To discern what is best for one another, and not just for oneself.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love is not self seeking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even among friends, a great love between friends, would mean doing things in such a way that it will not cause another to fall. It means, watching each other's language, watching each other's actions. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. I guess, I really have to be careful with what I say, or what I do. For truly, when we choose to love someone, we must also be committed to build that person, and not cause them to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that make sense?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6274704429608741908?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6274704429608741908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6274704429608741908&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6274704429608741908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6274704429608741908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/in-love.html' title='in love'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8615277686130291974</id><published>2007-06-12T07:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T08:07:13.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in my new office</title><content type='html'>Well. Not really. The office was meant to be in inverted comas, I do not have a real office. Just some small space tucked away in a not so little corner of my sister's apartment. I just call it my office because, this is where I would be spending a lot of my time for the next little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was a good one. Had done some studying, gone back to church for the SNL service (Sat Night Life), ate breakfast with my sister and then, went for a wedding in Genting, spend my whole night playing board games until the break of dawn, and then extended my weekend by crashing in bed for the rest of Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was a rare concept (to my knowledge) carried out in Malaysia. It was a garden wedding, but unfortunately, it rained pretty heavy halfway through the ceremony. The guests in their sundresses, shirt/blazer or batik, had to run for shelter while the wedding went on. They had to skip right to the exchange of vows, while fellow church mates held unbrellas for the couple and the pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd probably be asking yourself right now, why would I be blogging about this. Two reasons actually, one being the groom was my ex-discpler, so we're pretty tight (? haha). The other reason, was it gave me more time to contemplate about my own life. No, I'm not going to get all teary eyed and whiny, and complain about getting old. Watching fellow friends getting married, and moving into different circles of life (couple friends group) and what not, it sometimes irks me, but it also reminds me, I'm moving on with life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, the new look on my blog. I hope however, it's not just the look that changes, but the content in this blog here now on. Well, only time will tell eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8615277686130291974?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8615277686130291974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8615277686130291974&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8615277686130291974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8615277686130291974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/in-my-new-office.html' title='in my new office'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7818755062885111866</id><published>2007-06-08T22:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T23:06:19.109+08:00</updated><title type='text'>back for only so many days and already...</title><content type='html'>Already more than a dozen thigns to complain about. Drivers not signaling when they drive, the heat, horrible internet connection.... among the many things that I have been complaining about, aloud or silently. Although, I've told myself to stop complaining, I'm finding it hard. I guess I'll survive, if I really want to, and somethings can't be changed, and hence I'll just have to live with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I joined my ex-uni's lifegroup to observe (for those in Canada, the life group is like the cell group, or like our fellowship). It was really different. The one thing I enjoyed in Canada, is the discussion we had. Though, I have to say, the person who led today, was quite a good teacher. I just wonder if everyone really listened and paid attention. Hard to tell when no one really responds, but looking back at how I used to be one who would sit and listen to the cell group leader talk or teach, I can understand how hard it is to get through to people sometimes. Especially when you have someone like me, who only likes to remember things when it's of importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call it, saving my memory space. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's odd how I treat my brain like a hard disk with only so much capacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to other topics, just a few more days and I'll be able to open my guitar case. My fingers are itching already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one thing remains, how should I serve my local church here?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7818755062885111866?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7818755062885111866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7818755062885111866&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7818755062885111866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7818755062885111866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/back-for-only-so-many-days-and-already.html' title='back for only so many days and already...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6830665680313025161</id><published>2007-06-06T16:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T16:22:23.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'>day 3</title><content type='html'>It's been my third day back home, and it's been pretty good so far, except for the fact, come 2pm daily, I feel like I need a quick shut eye. However, it's a fight to go to sleep, as the body doesn't quite correlate with the mind, PLUS the fact that there's drilling during the day, doesn't help with me trying to go to bed. AND when I finally do, I can't wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it! My last straw, I'm going to have to infuse coffee into myself, until I stay wide awake and sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZZZzzzZZzzz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6830665680313025161?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6830665680313025161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6830665680313025161&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6830665680313025161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6830665680313025161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-3.html' title='day 3'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-3906148844418026154</id><published>2007-06-05T00:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T00:34:06.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>touchdown</title><content type='html'>I'm home. Words can't describe the feeling. Truly in the past few days, it has been a bittersweet experience. The minute everyone said their last goodbyes, it was such a surreal feeling. It was truly the last goodbye. For now anyways. It was tough because, as I said before, I don't know when I'll ever see this people again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess, God has been good to me. Really good to me. The more I think about it, the more I see, and I come to realize, for every single path that I've taken, if it were to be hard, God truly truly never forsake me nor left me. Even though I complained, God didn't. He saw me through. I will always remember how I arrived in Halifax lonely and had to stand up for myself. God not only helped me to learn to be independent, but He knew when I could no longer bear it anymore, He sent me friends. I passed my exam, and graduated with a degree. He thought me many life lessons, one being that truly, God loves all of us, and He has entrusted this love through friendships, through humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the other long stretch, studying for USMLEs and what not. I must say this, I have grown to trust Him more. I will go wherever He takes me. I hope I remember this vow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks God, for bringing me through. I am here, only by Your grace and mercy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-3906148844418026154?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/3906148844418026154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=3906148844418026154&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3906148844418026154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3906148844418026154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/06/touchdown.html' title='touchdown'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4468563627726795162</id><published>2007-05-30T04:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T04:29:33.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4 more days...</title><content type='html'>Another 4 more days. All the packing. All the moving, giving away stuff and selling some if possible.&lt;br /&gt;Never thought this day would come. That's why, previously, some things were taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look through my clothes, my books, and things that have been given to me, I realize a lot has transpired in the past 2 years, and God has really brought me far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful. I truly am. I've been blessed with passing exams, finding a family here and good friends. It feels quite surreal that I might be gone, never to visit back again (unless I grow cash trees or find oil in my backyard).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope you guys come to Malaysia instead. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clock ticks. Come Saturday, I would have to go home.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the memories Halifax. I have found many treasures in which I will store in my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4468563627726795162?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4468563627726795162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4468563627726795162&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4468563627726795162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4468563627726795162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/4-more-days.html' title='4 more days...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5665727690689974654</id><published>2007-05-26T11:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T12:01:51.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>finally</title><content type='html'>Yes. Finally. No. Not finally a new blog post, or finally, I've finished a race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's finally. FINALLY. I am done with med school. Well, at least part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first degree today, with my first ceremony of delightful name reading, one after another, totalling up to probably 300 names. Yes, my convocation was today, and besides me rushing to the convocation because I thought I was late, nothing else interesting happened. No huge fireworks or roars of cheers, just the claps as each student walks up the stage, and graduates in their field. I'm certainly not belittling the whole process, but am just merely implying that it wasn't as grand as I'd thought it'd be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two letters that I can proudly add to the back of my name.&lt;br /&gt;Do I qualify? Will I serve the people well? I kind of dislike it when people say that I have ideals because I am young and that I'll probably lose it once I'm older. I hope not. I'll pray hard that it won't happen. I still believe in what I know and believe. I hope, that it will never waiver nor falter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a rather good day. I guess the proud achievement, proudly framed up, and on its way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People, some of your lives may be in my hands. Pray, pray really really hard. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5665727690689974654?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5665727690689974654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5665727690689974654&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5665727690689974654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5665727690689974654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/finally.html' title='finally'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5643966571180519527</id><published>2007-05-21T10:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:46.862+08:00</updated><title type='text'>holiday (1)</title><content type='html'>Holiday. Ah. It's been rest rest and rest. I don't know why, but I feel so guilty, like I need to be studying (which actually, by right, I AM supposed to).&lt;br /&gt;So far it's been a really nice week in Toronto, and today in Niagara. It's been either going to the Phantom of the Opera, to walking in the rain, visiting a castle, or going to the highest man made observation tower, to shopping like crazy, it's been pretty good. Here are just some of the few between the hundred (s) that I've taken (for now at least), to give an idea of my trip so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlERLrPI7LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vyk2jktA3AQ/s1600-h/IMG_0367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlERLrPI7LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vyk2jktA3AQ/s320/IMG_0367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066849948050975922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eaton centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEYCrPI7MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/LBMYWRI1Efg/s1600-h/IMG_0414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEYCrPI7MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/LBMYWRI1Efg/s320/IMG_0414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066857490013547714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Random fence on the beach. I don't know what it is for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEcJ7PI7OI/AAAAAAAAABM/JGUVwYcGwHk/s1600-h/IMG_0421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEcJ7PI7OI/AAAAAAAAABM/JGUVwYcGwHk/s320/IMG_0421.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066862012614110434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still the beach. Thought this part just looks, different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEanLPI7NI/AAAAAAAAABE/CgAOEcG0-NI/s1600-h/IMG_0413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEanLPI7NI/AAAAAAAAABE/CgAOEcG0-NI/s320/IMG_0413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066860316102028498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shadows in the sun. When you can't get a photo of two people (because one of you needs to  hold the camera, this would be a good one to do, haha)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeNbPI7RI/AAAAAAAAABk/NkVdfYXp2C8/s1600-h/IMG_0462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeNbPI7RI/AAAAAAAAABk/NkVdfYXp2C8/s320/IMG_0462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066864271766908178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside castle loma. Was going for a "ghosts of the past" look, but Mandy walked too slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeM7PI7PI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0QwxEUGV5Q/s1600-h/IMG_0487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeM7PI7PI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0QwxEUGV5Q/s320/IMG_0487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066864263176973554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fountains in the garden of castle loma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeNLPI7QI/AAAAAAAAABc/2Sox4f-jhfQ/s1600-h/IMG_0496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlEeNLPI7QI/AAAAAAAAABc/2Sox4f-jhfQ/s320/IMG_0496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066864267471940866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the subway. Just playing around to get the slow shutter speed effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much typing for now. Thoughts still a bit scattered, but will continue to post up pics. Hopefully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-5643966571180519527?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5643966571180519527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5643966571180519527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5643966571180519527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5643966571180519527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/holiday-1.html' title='holiday (1)'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/RlERLrPI7LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vyk2jktA3AQ/s72-c/IMG_0367.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-4454638099373260643</id><published>2007-05-10T10:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T10:12:57.783+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the word'/><title type='text'>the word</title><content type='html'>I read something today, which struck me pretty hard. I never quite read it like this before. Let' just call it a new revelation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read this passage so many times, but not like this, and not realizing how powerful the word can really be. Who said the bible wa outdated, and it's relevance in today's world, almost second to none? We forget, about what God has set aside for us, His word, and we take it for granted, thinking it's just another  book for good teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage with the highlighted bits speak VOLUMES to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Romans 8:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28130" class="sup"&gt;28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,who&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; have been called according to his purpose.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28131" class="sup"&gt;29&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" id="en-NIV-28132" class="sup"&gt;30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28133" class="sup"&gt;31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28134" class="sup"&gt;32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-28135" class="sup"&gt;33&lt;/span&gt;Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. &lt;span id="en-NIV-28136" class="sup"&gt;34&lt;/span&gt;Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28137" class="sup"&gt;35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-28138" class="sup"&gt;36&lt;/span&gt;As it is written:&lt;br /&gt;  "For your sake we face death all day long;&lt;br /&gt;     we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28139" class="sup"&gt;37&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28140" class="sup"&gt;38&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" id="en-NIV-28141" class="sup"&gt;39&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Are we feeling really troubled today? Have things burgeoning into something greater than ourselves, so much so that we decide to give it up, and pack it in?&lt;br /&gt;This passage is a real promise. I know I won't be alone when I run into certain problems, and I know I don't have to count on experiences more than God's word to know that He is real. The promise has been made, it's up to us, I believe to trust and know, that NOTHING seperates us from the love of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-4454638099373260643?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/4454638099373260643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=4454638099373260643&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4454638099373260643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/4454638099373260643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/word.html' title='the word'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7123894031853264932</id><published>2007-05-08T08:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:21:46.997+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the home stretch</title><content type='html'>It's the final few weeks in Halifax and I'm in the midst of packing, getting rid of books or things that I think I do not need to bring home. In about 4 weeks time, I'll be on a plane flying home, and honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be back in Halifax again. Hopefully, I'll at least be in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh. 2 years of being in Halifax. I don't know how much I'll miss it, it was full of fond and bittersweet memories. What I remember most about this place though, was where I learnt to be truly independent, and have come to realize that in a lot of things, one has to depend not on men, but more of myself (I'm actually talking about when handing in forms or making deadlines), but of course the biggest lessons learnt are, all actions stem from choices, and choices are made actively. Can't be forced, and it is not a feeling. I also learnt that I cannot depend on people in terms of spitirual matters. Always go back to the big kahuna (God of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a short entry this time. I really should start getting back to my packing. Here's a good capture (I think) of Halifax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rj_OVdsda6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/Egsm7bcFaq4/s1600-h/IMG_0347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rj_OVdsda6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/Egsm7bcFaq4/s320/IMG_0347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061991374331407266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7123894031853264932?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7123894031853264932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7123894031853264932&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7123894031853264932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7123894031853264932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/home-stretch.html' title='the home stretch'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BJbskvRL3Os/Rj_OVdsda6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/Egsm7bcFaq4/s72-c/IMG_0347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-7769602219619500684</id><published>2007-05-02T10:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T10:58:03.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'>life cycles</title><content type='html'>Getting old.&lt;br /&gt;Achey bones.&lt;br /&gt;Marriages. Happy couples.&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancies. Newborn babies.&lt;br /&gt;New jobs, new places.&lt;br /&gt;Exams, interviews, projects.&lt;br /&gt;New friends, old friends,&lt;br /&gt;more friends.&lt;br /&gt;Good times, sad days, horrible weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Sick, deathly ill.&lt;br /&gt;Walking again.&lt;br /&gt;So much to see, so much to look forward to!?&lt;br /&gt;All to thank God for.&lt;br /&gt;No really, to thank God for all.&lt;br /&gt;Life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-7769602219619500684?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/7769602219619500684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=7769602219619500684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7769602219619500684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/7769602219619500684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-cycles.html' title='life cycles'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6767849123561084881</id><published>2007-04-30T12:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T13:07:31.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it hurts</title><content type='html'>It hurts sometimes to think, that one may not be as special as they think they are, that if there were a pick to be made for that PE game, you'd be last, and NOBODY truly wants to be last.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to see people get chosen for great things, and to think that you are sidelined only because you never hear back, and you assume that that's the end.&lt;br /&gt;It's bad when we hope for something so much, and it never comes, then we question if we should ever hope some more, if all is doom and gloom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I think what hurts more, is the fact that we let these things get to us, that we rather wallow in our own pity, that we do not do more, but merely sit and wait, and hope for good things to come. We forget that sometimes we have poor intentions, that we seek to glorify ourselves than to glorify the one that we are supposed to. We forget to be dependent, and we try to be independent, seeking to do all things in our own strength, our intelligence and dilligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did we forget about looking at the big picture, and started focusing on the small picture, which is ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess today, when  a friend told me about being prophesied again, I was jealous. I never had any prophesies at all. Took me a few good minutes to realize, that I don't know truly what God's plan is, but I would have to just trust and obey, not blindly but by faith, and continue to be totally dependent on Him. So quick am I jealous when I feel like God's not speaking to me, imagine what He feels? (haha, sorry God! I'll do better :p )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-6767849123561084881?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6767849123561084881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6767849123561084881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6767849123561084881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6767849123561084881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/it-hurts.html' title='it hurts'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8070080285837634162</id><published>2007-04-23T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T11:46:51.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the world, which we call for freedom of choice</title><content type='html'>More discussion about this freedom which we so zealously fight for, and so valiantly proclaim when we feel another wrongs us. Unfortunately, we fail to see, that this freedom comes with a high price, a price we probably don't mind paying, because in the small picture, it benefits us, but in the larger picture, we lose so much from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is US today: the generation that wants to be free, including free from making a choice. Nothing is absolute, and nothing is fixed. Everything can be questioned and everything can be wrong. Trust nothing but your own self, because all others may be wrong. This are probably slogans chanted every single day, in hopes that one will not be dragged down by the 'rules' of religion or culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an interesting description of (probably the youth) the generation today by G.K Chesterton:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The new rebel is a skeptic and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore, he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it. Thus, he write some book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book, a novel, in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then he curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then as a philosopher that all life is a waste of time. A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that  the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts. Then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting where he proves that they practically are beasts. In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite skeptic, is always encouraged in undermining his own mind. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality, and in his book on ethnics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                        ~ excerpt from Ravi Zacharias' Deliver Us from Evil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The problem today is many want to live by their own ideas. The ability to challenge everything gives one no responsiblity, not having to answer to anyone about anything. The idea of relativity gives one so much control (or at least the feeling that they are), that no one can challenge their position, because they have the right to ask back, and poke holes at any structure that may 'endanger' them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/18746633-8070080285837634162?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8070080285837634162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8070080285837634162&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8070080285837634162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8070080285837634162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/world-which-we-call-for-freedom-of.html' title='the world, which we call for freedom of choice'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-1121673984510767145</id><published>2007-04-22T09:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T09:45:18.209+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes</title><content type='html'>sometimes a little peace is all you need, when you are in a crowd, lost and hopeless&lt;br /&gt;but when that some time comes, and you are alone, you wished you were not, and hoped for company of friends.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, it's too noisy, you can't concentrate, you feel annoyed&lt;br /&gt;then comes the time, when it's so quiet, even with the tv and music on simultaneously, nothing beats human noise and human company.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes when faced with a loved one, you fail to say you loved them or tell them how much you enjoy their company because you were worried about what they'd think&lt;br /&gt;it's funny then when that person is no more, because then you'd cry your eyes out, wishing you had only spend more time and said the things you wanted to say.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes we are so engorged in our own righteousness and pride, so high up, htat we fail to see, that we step on ants and flowers, and we, in our own blindness are creating a path of destruction.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it's right in front of us, feign blindness, refusing no acknowledge because we believe in ourselves more than the person who's trying to guide us.&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, there is no time, yet we think we will always be able to buy ourselves time.&lt;br /&gt;we forget. the clock is ticking. clockwise, never the other way.&lt;br /&gt;when will we come to see and listen? maybe sometime soon. hopefully sometime soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-1121673984510767145?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/1121673984510767145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=1121673984510767145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1121673984510767145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/1121673984510767145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/sometimes.html' title='sometimes'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-666210313265480563</id><published>2007-04-19T10:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T10:08:55.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>i'm tired&lt;br /&gt;i need rest&lt;br /&gt;i give up&lt;br /&gt;just for the next few days&lt;br /&gt;i really need to carry a lighter yolk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rest&lt;br /&gt;rest&lt;br /&gt;rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-666210313265480563?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/666210313265480563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=666210313265480563&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/666210313265480563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/666210313265480563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-8946510903408296284</id><published>2007-04-18T11:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T11:21:03.935+08:00</updated><title type='text'>days when u just do not want to talk</title><content type='html'>I find the internet, sometimes a very weird place. Words are miscontrued, and because one may not be able to read the other's body language, lots of misunderstanding can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A simple smiley :) can mean, happy, can mean cheeky, can mean I'm just smiling because I refuse to respond, it can mean I'm just daydreaming and smiling blankly, or I'm angry but I don't want you to know and the internet is making it all the easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when people are mislead by things I say. Honestly, I say things mostly the way they are. I wasn't always like this, but more and more held on to this principle after I met a 'no bulls***-pull-out-all-guns-and-shooot-away' kind of friend. I then tried to hold true to being very straightforward with as many things when I want to convey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENOUGH I say, of being worried about what one has to think about me. (Yes, that tends to still happen eventhough I don't show it). Enough of doing something only to please others, or hoping for other ppl to fulfil your expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH. Why do I even bother sometimes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, in btwn, I meant to warn you that this is a RANT.&lt;br /&gt;Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-8946510903408296284?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/8946510903408296284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=8946510903408296284&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8946510903408296284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/8946510903408296284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/days-when-u-just-do-not-want-to-talk.html' title='days when u just do not want to talk'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-741533648743130258</id><published>2007-04-12T08:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T09:06:28.868+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what we want</title><content type='html'>Currently reading Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie. Also reading Deliver Us From Evil by Ravi Zacharias. Yes. I know. Bad. I prob might have to read the latter again, seeing that it needs much more concentration than Tuesdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays basically talks about appreciating life better, taking each day and making it your best. I kindd of get how my sister says that the book is 'preachy'. I would almost agree, except that its values are of the world and not of God. It has multiple short chapters, each on a different subject. So far I've read, discussion about the world today, pity for oneself, death, family, emotions, fear of againg and money. Each is put into the perspective of basically, a dying man. How not everything is an important is it used to be, simply because, one comes to realization, that man can never leave earth with his property. He carries nothing but his soul. I agree on that, but Morrie's thoughts end only with life. That there is no more to life, than enjoying it, and fulfilling it, as if it were a moral obligation. Maybe the ending is not what I think it is, but right now? It really appears that Morrie is merely saying, there is a good reason for doing good, which is there is no reason at all to do something bad. It's no use being fearful of death, because the preoccupation of it will rob you of your time left. We don't need a ton of property, cars, gadgets because at the end of the day, having it all, but not love or companionship, it means nothing. But giving, giving others will be fulfilling. Or so preaches a lot of religions with giving can satisfy the soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is a new phone, a new car, a new gadget really all that important? I know this premise has been explored before multiple times. Honestly, I never used to comprehend, any of it. It's like a moral value that made sense, but didn't seem quite practical. Often, I found myself saying, that may be for some people, but I just simply need these things. Of course, there's not denying too, some of you that are reading this post, may be scratching your head and wondering, what's this kid whining about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My conclusion is this, if we live life just so that it turns out good, or so that we do things to satisfy our soul, we will never be truly satisfied. I don't think. Some may beg to differ, and will chase that particular something till their demise. Fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to say is this, there is nothing that satisfies like Jesus. There's is not one single thing that completes me like God and there will never be anything that will fill me completely, like the Holy Spirit. (Yes, again with this msg!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-741533648743130258?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/741533648743130258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=741533648743130258&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/741533648743130258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/741533648743130258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-we-want.html' title='what we want'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-2626835811308086642</id><published>2007-04-08T03:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T03:22:00.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>relativity part 2</title><content type='html'>It's really easy to not live with absolute truths, simply because one may be able to justify his/her means with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lied because if I didn't, things might have gotten worse.&lt;br /&gt;I cheated in the test only because if I failed, I would lose my scholarship, and my family cannot afford that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps these aren't the best of ideas, BUT, I hope you understand what I'm trying to put through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the idea of relaative truth is so dangerous, simply because there can be no end to questions, and no end to possibilities. Simply put, as we cannot limit ourselves (and some might say, why would we limit ourselves?), we can go anywhere, and do as we please.&lt;br /&gt;The most popular question I get from someone who refuses to believe that God is real, that he idea of 'God' is relative to only what we know now. As in all other things, as we move along and we discover more things, we will discover through science or whichever study, that throughly there is more than just a simple explaination that we are created than a higher being.&lt;br /&gt;Honesly, sometimes, I don't know how to answer that. I remember even giving examples, like there are certain things that we know is the absolute truth, things like the world is round (or oval, whichever), or that in 1 minute there is 60 seconds. Of course, the arguement then comes, well, once upon a time, people thought the world to be flat, and thought that was absolute truth, so how exactly would we know that the world is oval (eventhough we've seen it from outer space?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that is a very dangerous statement. Why? Simply because if one chooses to even challenge the things before their very eyes, and can even have the audacity of saying it is relative, then nothing can be the truth. Then, I believe, there is no point in living, if everything is a lie, and everything is just a trick of the eye. Why would anyone want to live such conceited lives of deceit? Lying to others is one thing, but to deny oneself of the truth by claiming that everything else is relative, is just plain nonsensical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, one might as well question if their parents were truly their parents.&lt;br /&gt;Relavtivity, in my opinion, is selfish, as one only choose want they want to know, or what they want to hear. It's for people who want to feel good about themselves, or make themselves feel good. AND, it's the only thing that's stopping them from doing what is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next post: pluralization.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-2626835811308086642?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/2626835811308086642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=2626835811308086642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2626835811308086642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/2626835811308086642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/relativity-part-2.html' title='relativity part 2'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-6584529574844432999</id><published>2007-04-07T12:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T12:50:56.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the day of love and being loved.</title><content type='html'>It was my birthday just not too long ago. Yes, I've turned 24. However, this blog is not about my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's more about God's love for me. Well, not specifically just me, but for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think many of us really appreciate the fact that He does love us. People often think, "Yeah, I know God loves me", but honestly, do we really know? Do we really think about what happened at the cross about 2 centuries ago? Or do we say we know, but not feel?&lt;br /&gt;To know that Christ carried all our sins and all our burdens via dolorosa, took each thing that made us feel unwanted, not needed, and made it into hope. He suffered so we did not. He hung on that tree, so that we will never ever have to face the Judge and account for our sins. And in each moment, breathless, He intercessed for everyone of us, with the knowledge of that some of us may even reject Him, or ignore Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I not be of any love if God has so much for me? Can I ever say that I cannot love others because NO ONE loves me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 John 4:19 We loved because He first loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to keep that in mind. It's so hard though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Have to love others.&lt;br /&gt;Have to love others.&lt;br /&gt;Have to love others.&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/18746633-6584529574844432999?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/6584529574844432999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=6584529574844432999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6584529574844432999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/6584529574844432999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/day-of-love-and-being-loved.html' title='the day of love and being loved.'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-3715680157084357779</id><published>2007-04-02T10:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T10:48:27.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>relativity part 1</title><content type='html'>Relativity is such an interesting topic to talk about. Having discussed it over with a few people recently, and reading a book that talks about the corruption of today's morals, I can see more and more how relativity can be so dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been compared to the frog that has been placed in cold water put to boil slowly. It won't know it's too hot for itself until it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In modern day society, we want rules to govern certain things, to keep our property safe, to make sure we are not total barbarians. But soon enough we turn on this rules. Changes are made to suit today, because after all, certain things are not as 'wrong' or as 'scary' as once perceived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to do a certain something ONLY because it is not as bad as this other thing.&lt;br /&gt;The famous few lines are always: I'm not killing anyone, no one is getting hurt, I'm not stealing or robbing someone, hence it can't be bad right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because everything is made relative to another, it's acceptable. It's okay. No one should rot in hell for something as small as cheating the company's money. After all, the company is making millions, what's wrong if one were to take only 100k? (I wanted to use more drastic examples but decided against it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is more about relativity that I want to talk about. The next blog? Will be on: there is not absolute truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18746633-3715680157084357779?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/3715680157084357779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=3715680157084357779&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3715680157084357779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/3715680157084357779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/04/relativity-part-1.html' title='relativity part 1'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18746633.post-5836592910322892661</id><published>2007-03-22T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T00:29:48.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>to be satisfied</title><content type='html'>All this while, I thought that, this feeling of missing something could be filled with a relationship, a new gadget, friends, new clothes, perhaps a new CD. I never knew where to look, and after every relationship, every new thing that I could get my hands on. I never really quenched the thirst. Never really was satisfied with things. It was always something else that I needed, something new that I did not have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A few posts ago I wrote about &lt;a href="http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/02/expensive-taste.html"&gt;the water of eternal life.&lt;/a&gt; As I think about it again, I really come to realise that truely, there is nothing else that can quench that thirst like Jesus does. The feeling of lacking, of being empty, of wanting more, can only be satisfied by Jesus. God and only GOD ALONE can make me whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, I felt that God really spoke to me after I started having this infatuation over a Korean actress. (Bah humbug, koren show has got me falling in love with korean girls!)&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was the actress herself (beauty) or the character in the show that made me fall so hard, but I sure was in some sort of dreamy state for a while. I then realized, that I can covert, and hope that I get into some sort of relationship with a girl like that, but then I realized, what happens after I get into a relationship like that? It's like trying to get into a relationship without my lower limbs and hoping that my partner will be my limbs, (Does that make sense at all?) and after a while, discover that the limbs are not mine, and I am still incomplete, that I need something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I'm still in want, I making it a point that each time I feel that way, I ask God for help.&lt;br /&gt;I truly know now, that nothing can complete me but God. (It's like Jerry Maguire telling God, YOU complete me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I need You today, tmrw and forever. Please give me the strength, grace and help me love others like You love me.&lt;br /&gt;Lord, I am desperate for You.&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/18746633-5836592910322892661?l=poorlittleboy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/feeds/5836592910322892661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18746633&amp;postID=5836592910322892661&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5836592910322892661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18746633/posts/default/5836592910322892661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poorlittleboy.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-be-satisfied.html' title='to be satisfied'/><author><name>peasantboy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12637889407034575879</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
