<?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-186318813246148293</id><updated>2012-01-12T15:26:19.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mystical Fire Phoenix Controller</title><subtitle type='html'>Ayesha Raees</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-4906559338843403628</id><published>2012-01-12T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T15:26:19.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You are not worth it either.</title><content type='html'>If you search my name and add blog at the end... this blog comes up. Which is like an open diary of myself. I know I mention this in every post but I can't help it. I am a paranoid person with a noisy head... my assumptions sometimes become reality in my eyes. Yet I really can't help it. Thus what I write is not really for anyone but just myself. If anyone tends to read it and make fun of it or judge me... there is a reason why we don't talk or I am not talking to you about this matter. Meaning the majority of the people around me are immature creeps playing with humans and laughing at other people's expense. They are not worth it. Definitely not my time.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saying that, I should continue with my rant. Right now I should be tensed. Or more than I already am. In a few hours I am supposed to participate in Grammathon. It's a big event with a number of competitions. I have never made a short film before. I am a little scared that I won't be able to win. I really want to win. I think I might have to go another hurdle with myself if I don't end up winning. My mid-term grades weren't that amazing either. Physics and Math was well... I had Ds in them. :( The others though (World History, AICT and Media Studies) weren't that bad; B, B and A. Again with the sciences and math. Again with them. It has made me realize that I am not dumb. At all. I used to think that I am actually a blonde but no... I am not. I just don't study stuff I don't like. It silly of people to assume and label me because for God's sakes... World History and Media is hard. and I have bagged good grades in them. A generally stupid person cannot do that. I am not stupid. I am an intellect running away from opening the books subjected to Math and Physics... and even THEN i haven't failed. Dude. Like... Seriously. I am so awesome I am bathing in my own glory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*moment of epic silence*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*breathes out slowly*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeaahh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On other news, I have grammathon tomorrow. I am participating in two media events. and a writing one. Writing one is something I love to do and I am not aiming to win it. The former though I want to win. Get those trophies. Prove to the world on my amazingness. Yet again. But I have never made a short film before. I want to. And I shall. I am afraid again that I won't be able to cook something that I really WANT to but then again where will I get the serene and beautiful settings that I dream of? The production. The Actors. The mid-air turn and the silent laugh. The crash of beautiful things. Poetic. Literature. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Silly. My writing and literature has dragged me to media too. When I am with such stuff or reading or writing or listening to good music... I am myself more than ever. The silent smile that comes over my face and the humming birds that flutter inside... it's me. I am an emotional and sentimental person and I like devotion to things I like and love to do. People have betrayed me and I have moved on. Expectations crash. I know it's life and it's cruel but everyone is trying to survive on their own pace. I am surviving like this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thus the point is I have no prior preparation for tomorrow. I should have but then again even in LUMS carma I wasn't fully prepared. Actually not at all and I cooked it all in a matter of... hours. I need to make the intro of live reporting. There ARE five days... I will definitely do everything. I CAN do everything and win. It doesn't look impossible. Yeah. I have been doing since grade 8. I like doing media and writing. Plus I am the director and everything. It's all worth it if we seriously put our hardwork into an art. At the end, the panel of judges will be judging them. Art is not like Physics. Or Math. Or Biology. Or Chemistry. Art can never be wrong. It is not factual list of mathematical answers or tough names to be memorized; it is something you create. Thus your creation is a part of you. It can be wrong. It CAN be bad. Or good. But it can never be wrong. When a group of people come together and are asked to judge a piece of art that you have poured your hardwork in, there will be times when you don't win. It is because there are judges. They are humans. Humans tend to have opinions and egos. When judging art, they can be disillusioned because of their own experiences. They might not like the song used in. Or have a personal grudge against a person quoted in the video. Maybe they are racists and stupid and don't like the touching painting you created. Maybe they are all men and you know where they think from... Maybe one of them is a hard core feminist which has enabled her to be VERY narrow minded about other things thus resulting in frowning upon the girl being saved by a man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The list goes on of examples. The point being... they are people also. If you don't win in a competition that includes your creativity and your imagination, that doesn't mean you suck. At all. It doesn't mean anything. It's actually sad for THEM that they weren't able to understand the profound meaning (if any as this post is for intellects. Not some... well... you know. :l) behind it. I am more of technical person because I like things pretty. Let it be writing styles or lyrics of a good song. Likewise if something sentimental is shot beautifully, I would go for it. If it's good quality and the slow motion... and you know... something that touches your heart... why not? I love that. Normal people should love that too. But well majority of the people are again amazingly stupid. I like to film. But I like to film stuff beautifully. And win because of my own unique style. When I say I want to win... I mean I want to put everything I have into my 'field of art' and win. So that if I don't... you know whose fault it is. Definitely the media illiterate judges who are all... well actors and don't know "Sony Vegas" is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know. Painfully sad world I live. *heavy sighs*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have this competition in a few hours. You can. I shall be napping in.. 20 or so minutes. Because right now... I am ranting. And again, I have elevated myself and given myself strength through writing. So I don't want to touch the sentimental things that is now hidden. I have mentioned before in the previous posts... I like a guy. But I have decided; I am going to move on from him. Or the image I have created of him. I don't like his company or the fact that my feelings are material that they laugh on. I don't like it one bit. I have realized that people are very immature. And I am in an institution that doesn't please me anymore only because of the people here. Animals. Laughing at other peoples' expenses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And he is one them. He knows. And he laughs at me with his friend. A practical joke I have become to them. That is not how people should react. If you laugh at someone and someone's feelings, then you don't even deserve to be loved or liked. Or anything human. You hang out with guys with no class just because they crack dirty jokes and you laugh in those meaningless minutes... woohoo... is that really who you are? You do realize why you always have the most fun doing the wrong things. There is a reason to that. An attraction already built into it. But it is I believe morally wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone of them needs to read some shoujo manga. Seriously. If you know about someone's feelings without them actually saying to you (my fault but I can't HELP it. This is just how I am! I AM NOT CHANGING!) then be considerate. Or DECENT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YES. That word. Decent. Decency! Ah. I love it how it slips off my tongue! DECENCY! IT'S NO WHERE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well... I have decided. Not worth it so I am going to move on with this whatever-you-call-it. You know it's time to do so when you have become a practical joke to someone. And I don't expect him to stand up for me because I like HIM. Not the other way around. And he is not standing up for me as his friends laugh at me so he is not worth as a person. Because everyone is normal. Awful normals. SO YES&amp;gt; NOT WORTH IT! MUST. MOVE. ON.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YOSH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Btw. Florence and the Machine is &amp;lt;3 :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/186318813246148293-4906559338843403628?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/4906559338843403628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=4906559338843403628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/4906559338843403628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/4906559338843403628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-are-not-worth-it-either.html' title='You are not worth it either.'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-3844558779535709245</id><published>2012-01-07T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T13:59:55.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Between two lungs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Between two lungs it was released&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;The breath it was held within me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;You looked this way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Ink splash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Breathless again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;My feet sprang wings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Falling above &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;The breath you took away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I am fighting for it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;to get it back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;You stood smiling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Holding my breath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Making the flowers come to life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;My eyes daze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;And I fly down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Trapped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;There is something else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;between my lungs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;My breath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;is still in your hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;===&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Something inspired by Between Two Lungs by Florence and The Machine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I love that song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;and I wrote it in a few minutes! xD It turned out pretty cool! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/186318813246148293-3844558779535709245?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/3844558779535709245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=3844558779535709245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/3844558779535709245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/3844558779535709245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2012/01/between-two-lungs.html' title='Between two lungs'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-8715862730376439211</id><published>2012-01-06T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T15:16:22.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The middle?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV-HPOHu8mY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV-HPOHu8mY&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brother sent me this song that we used to listen to when I was... third grade? The time we were in Islamabad. xD At that time I didnt get any of it. I mean... come on! Just liked the tune. but now that I concentrated on the lyrics, it... kinda made me smile. I mean... such a nice song. Some of it goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Hey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't write yourself off yet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only in your head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"you feel left out"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or "looked down on"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just try your best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try everything you can&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And don't worry about what they tell themselves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you're away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's just take some time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little Girl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're in the middle of the ride&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything will be just fine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything will be just alright, alright&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;Hey, you know they're all the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;You know you're doing better on your own, so don't buy in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;Live right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;Yeah, just be yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; background-color: rgb(204, 204, 221); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span  &gt;Sighs. So true. So true. xD I mean... Really. It's hits a spot. OK. one more time and I am off to bed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/186318813246148293-8715862730376439211?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/8715862730376439211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=8715862730376439211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/8715862730376439211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/8715862730376439211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2012/01/middle.html' title='The middle?'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-4548329998147924797</id><published>2012-01-04T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T15:28:46.138-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am breathing. Lucky no?</title><content type='html'>Hello world again. And no... I am not here to vent about my distressed self or the society again. But well.. I can't totally justify that statement either; after all this blog is about my thoughts. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, re-reading my last post, I apologize to well... myself and some other wandering souls here and there who came across it; that was an embarrassment. I guess it was self doubt about my self and I know that's common. Hey. I am 17 years old girl surviving in today's world and trying to succeed rightfully; you think I won't have self doubt not even once? Actually I do... a lot. Now speaking honestly again, I don't whine to people about it. There are a number of reasons for that. Some listed below:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. They don't know you. Period. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your ...any-one-from-day-one-of-your-birth. They don't know you. You think they do. And when you tell them your self doubt issues, they listen and give advice. And because you think they know you best, you follow that golden advice without any thought that it could lead to something entirely else that you wanted. Hey... I am not saying your close relatives/friends don't care about you or are not honest with you... no no... they are trying their best to help you out in your self-doubt issues. But as I said... they don't know you. No one knows you better than yourself and what you want. They don't know the lingering thoughts at night when you are trying to sleep. They don't know you behind that bright smile you wear, you are having a bad day. They don't know that what you had for dinner last night because not every dinner is a significant one (and asking someone every day what they had to eat is well... not healthy). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Self-doubt issues are something incurable. If you have confident issues about yourself, and you get over them... I am sure you will have them again(might be less frequent though). I think that those are just something... genetic. A part of your personality that you can control but it won't go away. Thus even if you are a socially active person dedicated to school life and family (and a set of VERY important morals), you are tend to have a few self-doubt issues when you come home and sit in the confines of your room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How come she has better grades when she parties so much?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Maybe if I was a barbie doll like her, he would have liked me instead..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Maybe I really am someone in a crowd... just struggling to something but being shunned..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You get my point right? Self-doubt happens. And it happens again and again... less frequent if you try to work on it (by getting high on sugar before any big thing and then laughing your ass off while tears of joy/fear running down your face). The point is... that if you go keep on going to someone for help about your self-doubt issues, especially if it's someone you know since day-one of your life that you can't live without... they would get tired of it! Ok... one time. Two times. Three times. That's it. After that when you are starting to notice that the zeal in their advice and prep talk has become less and you have lingering thoughts at night if they actually care about you or not... the reason is probably because they are humans. Your recitation of how sucky you are and not going anywhere will... well... make them wish they were somewhere else in the world than with you. For they know they have an obligation to you to comfort you. And make you feel better. Yet when the zeal is less and so is their spirit... they are forcing themselves. And if they sigh... time to pack your bags! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look... I am not demoralizing you or making you have well... more doubts about your closed ones. But, talking from prior experience, I feel like killing people who keep asking me "What should I do? What should I do?" after I tell them what to do. Follow it or not. But stop asking me again and again. What do you want me to say more? I love you and all and care about you and I am REALLY happy that you trust me... but God... Stop it ok? I told you what to do... WHY DO YOU KEEP ASKING ME!!?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get my point? No? Ack. You... illiterate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. IT'S NATURAL! Sometimes you just need to cry it out and scream in your own space rather than cry on people. Because unless you don't do something about you YOURSELF, those issues are going to remain and make you miserable. So just cry out. Scream into your pillow. Run into a wall. Maybe if you are rich, break something. Because after all that... you have renewed energy to live your life strongly for the next breakdown! (Like how it happened last time when I wrote that post. I can't believe I went so far by texting my brother maybe I needed therapy. Or well... blogging about it. But hey! This post is justification to self-doubt and depression. And well... I can say whatever I want here. I hate you all anyway.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thus my reasons why I don't rely on people... esp. on those problems regarding self-doubt. Not everyone is a bubble telling you, you can DO IT. You have to believe it yourself too. and just stroll down the halfway, thinking that without your awesomeness, the world won't survive... which in my case is very true. I mean... How can the world live without me? The confusion... sighs... it lingers on and on into those sleep deprived nights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a happier (LE GASP) note... I am back to normal. I went out with friends to joyland and mc donalds today after crying about how my life wasn't going anywhere yesterday in front of my mom who labelled me as ... well... human (she is a robot... I am sorry to say). So I am lighter. The problems are still there but yeah. I am lighter. I have to be awesome or how will this world exist without me? Yeah... the pressure. :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well time to... sleep. Oh wait... let me open my crush's facebook profile (I haven't added him =.=) to see if he has changed his dp from his current one to something well... recent (knowing that his old one is/was of his childhood adorable-ness. But still... Seeing his baby pictures is too soon). OK! here goes nothing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well... at least I can justify he hasn't magically transformed into his good-looking handsome self of today. He was cute as a baby too. It's ok. I shall repress my longing to see him. It's winter break... it would be over soon... hahaha... then HELLO... one class we share and sit in the same row so i have to purposely drop things to move forward in my chair and bend down and stare at his perfect self. His serious expression as he works. He is very smart!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*clears throat*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ThatidiotknowsthatIlikehimandhedoesn'tgiveacrapaboutit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THIS, I SHALL TALK MORE ... ABOUT IT... LATER! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/186318813246148293-4548329998147924797?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/4548329998147924797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=4548329998147924797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/4548329998147924797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/4548329998147924797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-am-breathing-lucky-no.html' title='I am breathing. Lucky no?'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-2192528892144615614</id><published>2012-01-03T04:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T04:52:15.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I won't stop even if no one reads me...</title><content type='html'>There is something about blogspot.com that makes it easier for me to talk about my stuff. Though I get saddened that I do not get any comments or feedback about it. Thus it makes me think I am just talking to myself and no one is reading what I am writing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's better. Cause there is hope. Maybe one day someone stumbles over here and reads what I write. Can relate to me a little? Say a nice word. I know how other people get comments and reviews: by advertising among their friends. I have a huge social circle but the truth is, I write what bites them. My last post created mayhem when a few read it. Yes it was a vent. My feelings. I was very angry and hurt at that time. Unlike others, I don't go and just shed everything I am sad and hurt about to other people. The reason? I am not used to it. I am not comfortable in relying on people and it is just such a foreign concept to me. I am scarred because I have met many horrible people in my short life time and experienced a lot of unethical liars. It is so normal. Who hasn't come across those roaches eh? Yet I am sad to admit today that I am too sensitive and not like others. I think too much, feel too much and many times I can't breathe. It's hard for me to breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I live a good life I mean... I have a set of amazing parents. They love me. They are busy and have their own problems and we have been suffering financially for a well... a long time... but yeah they still love. I know that very well. I have big brother. He sometimes texts and facebooks me when he has some free time from his medical school. I love him a lot. Of course. He is away now. But I hope he loves me back too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have expectations. Too many of them. Sadly they all crash... but i know if accidentally if one of them ... the most insignifficant one of them... comes true... I get so incredibly happy. Overjoyed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not like my life sucks. It doesn't. I have good things. I have a talent. I am partly successful in school and social life. My grades are above average. I am good company. I am strong (?). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is just... this emptiness inside of me. A hole in my heart. I can't be happy. Stay happy. I think too much. Assume too much. Expect too much. I need out. It's like I am confined in a four wall space and I just can't get out. No... more exactly I feel like I am underwater and I can't breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's wrong with me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/186318813246148293-2192528892144615614?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/2192528892144615614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=2192528892144615614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/2192528892144615614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/2192528892144615614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-wont-stop-even-if-no-one-reads-me.html' title='I won&apos;t stop even if no one reads me...'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-8440984516114030578</id><published>2011-08-08T08:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T08:11:56.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What an accurate result from a Quiz I took! :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously... creepy xD It feels like that quiz knew me better then myself even. xD LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;!--ColorQuiz.com code--&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.colorquiz.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="ColorQuiz.com" src="http://www.colorquiz.com/images/colorquizlogosmall2.gif" width="120" height="32" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; Ayesha Raees  took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;""Wants interesting and exciting things to happen i..."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.colorquiz.com/results.php?code=f,3,4,5,1,2,6,7,0,5,5,4,3,1,7,2,6,0,5&amp;amp;p=print&amp;amp;name= Ayesha Raees "&gt;Click here&lt;/a&gt; to read the rest of the results.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;!--End ColorQuiz.com code--&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/186318813246148293-8440984516114030578?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/8440984516114030578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=8440984516114030578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/8440984516114030578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/8440984516114030578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-accurate-result-from-quiz-i-took-d.html' title='What an accurate result from a Quiz I took! :D'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-3211176284855268862</id><published>2011-06-01T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T02:08:24.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Venting Post 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Venting {Post 1}&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dated {1st June 2011, Wednesday}&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Time {12:01 pm. Just came home from Math Paper 2 O&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Level&lt;/span&gt; Exam}&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I hardly think that anyone is following this blog and really. I don't really care if anyone is or not. I don't blame you; even though I say I'll post, i haven't posted anything in years. I suck like that don't I? Oh well. What I am going to vent will probably pretty much throw people off. Sometimes you just feel like running your fingers powerfully on the keyboard until your energy and hatred just evaporates off. And 'talking' to 'someone' is the last thing I feel like doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So why, really, am I in such a bad mood? Well it began with the fact that my math paper didn't go so well. Usually I am not really a person to feel this shitty over a failed exam. I mean.... I didn't really FLUNK it but I kinda ran out of time and thus good bye easily-scored 6 marks! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. It was just an exam. I am not really the kind of person to cry over something like that... or get pissed off that much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; really make me start off happy. So what edged me to what I am feeling right now... this anger... this hatred ... this... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;indescribable&lt;/span&gt; feeling inside of me that's eating me alive and maybe slowly kill me if I don't vent out; was the fact that I got my school magazine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now. I am proud to say and I will always be proud to say this; I am pretty well known person in school. And I am not bragging. NO! this is not bragging. HELL- I am actually a humble person who don't really brag.... but I NEED to say this because it's the truth. AND I deserve to be well known. I have actually put my hard work into it! I am not like other weird students who get their 'knowings' because of their amazingly vulgar and weird pictures on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; or because of the flattering techniques practices mercilessly on the naive foolish teachers OR, the most hideous thing of all, the fact that the 'fame' and 'knowing' have been 'genetically' passed down. Yeah... I meant if your siblings were teacher's pet; definitely, you inherit their place and 'good fortune'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So yeah. I actually worked hard in getting known. I am, like no one else the same age, intellect, intelligence, talent, skills..., better then my peers. HELL: I am even better then some professionals! I am not bragging. I am venting. And these are actually facts! Do you know anyone who has been film making like a near pro since the same 14? Do you know anyone who have been writing for 10 years and in 16 now? Do you know someone who can edit all sorts of media without failing? DO YOU KNOW SOMEONE WHO IS RUNNING A STUDIO OF MORE THEN 50 MEMBERS AND IS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;SUCCESSFUL&lt;/span&gt;!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO YOU!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well of course you don't. Because, I apologize for my language, FUCK... you don't even know what I am talking about most of the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is not bragging. I am venting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So WHY is that... a person of such an intellect and such an amazing line of skills and talents... has to suffer like this? Why? Why are the people who are around me and are... HORRIBLE... totally... bad... not worth publishing type... are getting praised and made a part of the student council, awarded on the farewells and whatever? WHY NOT ME!? I have worked so hard for seven years in this FUCKING place of a school called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Beaconhouse&lt;/span&gt; Liberty Lahore... I have worked so hard... you don't even know... SO WHY AM I NOT BEING AWARDED!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because I don't tell the pregnant teacher how slim she looks?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because I don't smile sweetly and bite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;venomously&lt;/span&gt; when someones around and not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because I have a good personality and like to say what I think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because I am not a hypocrite?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because my thoughts and IQ are so over the top that they piss the teachers off?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Really? Are you serious? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just BECAUSE you are a teacher... just BECAUSE you the effing Principal... JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE SOME AUTHORITY... you have NO FUCKING RIGHT to trample over anyone. Other people might walkaway and ignore it... but I don't. Because it's wrong. And you are all going to hell. Burn in hell. Slowly. BURN!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;For 7 years straight, I have been writing. I am going to get published soon. I am going to be, one day, famous soon... and I honor you with my writing for the stupid school magazine. And HA! You better let your minions of 'friends' get published. I guess it's just sad to see that the chief editor or whoever is in authority doesn't know true &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; and literature. I am sorry that all you were ever exposed to was Daniel Steel and porn. I am so so so SORRY for your reading choice that you think that Stephanie Meyer is a great writer and you make fun of writers who you don't know like Catherine Fisher (If you want something real to read). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I feel so sorry for you. My heart breaks for you. Look... I am not even crying for myself. Little people i guess need little emotional boosts to carry on with their lives. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. I understand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My writing is obviously better. Have you been writing for more then 7 years continuously... obsessively? Have you reached a point in which you are actually satisfied with your writing style and found your identity on paper?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh ... crap. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; SORRY that you don't know what I am talking about again. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. You can go back and fawn over Edward Cullen. I understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; now I am not really dissing everyone who got published in the school magazine of Mosaic 2011. I mean... I appreciate a talent when I see one. Actually I don't really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;apperciate&lt;/span&gt; it, but I am become an instant fan and go all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;OOLLAALA&lt;/span&gt; over the said person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;For now... I think one of my favorite works in the magazine was of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Hadia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Hameed&lt;/span&gt; of 11CA. You, my friend, are a wonderful writer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The rest. I am sorry. Please go read real literature and practice writing. You just wasted good quality plastic paper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyhow. I already know so many people who were 'best friends' with the editor in chief. Now that I have written and vented out mostly, I don't feel as bad anymore. Hey... look... I feel a smile coming. ha... lame-on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Beaconhouse&lt;/span&gt; Liberty Lahore. I hate you. Please, especially the pathetic teachers and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;leachers&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;BLL&lt;/span&gt;, i hope you realize that the way you are administering is just a rule. A rule... a government. When you all whine about the fact that politics this and politics that... I am sorry. but YOU are the politics. YOU are the ones 'ruling' over the student body. And there is no vote for anything. No vote for the student council. The rulers make the president whoever they want without looking at the other 10, 000 students that are paying fees (or in a rule; the increasing taxes)... you are destroying their rights. Do you think that everyone is happy? HA! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;HAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;. No. It's not that. Maybe you do know. But you don't care either way. Because you will hire teachers that will ask the students to come to their academies and don't teach in school, because you will scold off a student if that student wants to talk to the headmistress. Oh Miss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Rhianna&lt;/span&gt;, do you really think people respect you with that amazingly big neck and over flowing cleavage of yours when you accuse the girls of 'running away with their boyfriends'. You have no right to say that. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Absolutely&lt;/span&gt; no right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The school is like a small land of monarchy. There is no democracy. There is not freedom of speech. You line up. You enter class. You listen. You are not supposed to speak out of content. There is a fair line between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;discipline&lt;/span&gt; and being... well.. THIS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If you all think that the rulers of Pakistan, who eat and leech and don't care, are going to hell... remember all the those students and all those teachers who have authority even in the smallest of positions; you are misusing it. And that is why you are going to hell. Or i hope so you suffer at least at what you have done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;People say you are supposed to be proud of your school but I am ashamed. This piece of garment that I wore since I was able to talk has burdened me that I can't walk straight but nevertheless, the haters hate when I, despite the chains and weights, walk with my head high. Think whatever. Do whatever. Score however, the future is vast. Even though I have been facing too many failures related to my writing... it will be me who will shine brighter then anyone else. so flick away your fake straightened hair and bat your eyes and fool everyone, I will still ahead. You are all not worth my time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And yeah. I feel much better now. Thank you very much bitches. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;and I don't even effing care if anyone reads this. Do whatever. I am not gonna care. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/186318813246148293-3211176284855268862?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/3211176284855268862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=3211176284855268862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/3211176284855268862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/3211176284855268862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2011/06/venting-post-1.html' title='Venting Post 1'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186318813246148293.post-5742131099853028712</id><published>2009-04-15T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T04:27:24.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Before I start, I just want to tell all my avid readers that this blog is for my writing work. I will post anything here. From chapters to storyplans to essays to even rough character sketches. All of it would be copyrighted to me and if I see any of my things in somebody else's profile or ANYWHERE without my permission, I am sorry to say but I would FLAG you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Or track you down and KILL you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Ayesha Raees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;P.S. Going to post my work as soon as summer hols start. XD &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/186318813246148293-5742131099853028712?l=mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/feeds/5742131099853028712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=186318813246148293&amp;postID=5742131099853028712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/5742131099853028712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/186318813246148293/posts/default/5742131099853028712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysticalfirephoenixcontroller.blogspot.com/2009/04/introduction.html' title='Introduction.'/><author><name>Ayesha Raees</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08912853453277882563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D76p0iBg65w/SVolTfK4ayI/AAAAAAAAADI/jjA9KJFBZD8/S220/a8-3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
