星期五, 八月 25, 2006
im sick lolololo whoooo
fever ,,,i hate it .just becos my stomachache hence immusystem cant protect me from virus ..oh no i feel dizzy,weak..and body temp rises to 38.7 ...haya the medicine not work...go sleep lah bye
星期四, 八月 24, 2006
thats me hahaha
last time took in china(thats 雷锋 beside me)lei feng very short one in reality but how come taller than me when became statue....who is the stupid designer
14 months
doesnot look like me
14 months
doesnot look like me
星期三, 八月 23, 2006
if one day u feel like crying.... call me.
I dont promise that i will make u laugh,but i can cry with u.
If one day u want to run away-- dont be afraid to call me.
I dont promise to ask u to stop....but i can run with u.
If one day u dont want to listen to anyone.....call me.
I promise to be there for u but also promise to remain quiet.
But one day if u call......and there is no anwser...come fast to see me.#
You are my friend...And i hope u know thats true...#no matter what happens...
I will stand by u...#i will be there for u...when ever u need me... to lend a hand...to do a good deed...#
so call on me....
whenever u need me...
i will always be there...
Even to the bitter end..
星期日, 八月 20, 2006
Yevgeny Onegin
If I walk the noisy streets,
Or enter a many thronged church,
Or sit among the wild young generation,
I give way to my thoughts.
I say to myself: the years are fleeting,
And however many there seem to be,
We must all go under the eternal vault,
And someone's hour is already at hand.
When I look at a solitary oak I think:
the patriarch of the woods.
It will outlive my forgotten age
As it outlived that of my grandfathers'.
If I caress a young child,
Immediately I think: farewell!
I will yield my place to you,
For I must fade while your flower blooms.
Each day, every hour
I habitually follow in my thoughts,
Trying to guess from their number
The year which brings my death.
And where will fate send death to me?
In battle, in my travels, or on the seas?
Or will the neighbouring valley
Receive my chilled ashes?
And although to the senseless body
It is indifferent wherever it rots,
Yet close to my beloved countryside
I still would prefer to rest.
And let it be, beside the grave's vault
That young life forever will be playing,
And impartial, indifferent nature
Eternally be shining in beauty.
By A. Pushkin
such a boring day
星期五, 八月 18, 2006
星期四, 八月 17, 2006
致克恩
tired
星期三, 八月 16, 2006
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