Announcement: One nightmare is over.

Despite this, its not over yet. There is still the presentation and not to forget, the plant design project. I have to admit, I have been pretty slack in the plant design project. Well, thats going to change! I will definitely try my best not to let my group mates down! Because they are the most wonderful groupmates and they definitely deserve it. School really is a neverending race to the finish, even if you don't plan to be the champion. But enough of school! Its time to let my hair down and relax, at least for this blessed night. Thank god for quiet nights for reflection.

Sometimes, I really feel that I am a terribly misunderstood person. Sometimes, I wanna feel sorry for myself. I know its true, that it doesn't pay to be nice. Why? Because when you are too nice, people take you for granted.

Let me tell you a story. It is a story about a little girl who believed in a fairytale. She always thought in the best interests of the people around her, often willing to sacrifice her own pleasures to help others. She doesn't need a reward, just appreciation. However, all she got in return was misery. The people in the village often took advantage of her kindness. Those whom she helped always had the idea that she had an ulterior motive in doing what she does.

One day, there was a terrible disaster in the village. A fire broke out in the middle of the night and set the entire fields on fire. The sheriff knew that the culprit had to be found soon to applease the anger of the villagers. Knowing that the villagers were a superstitious bunch of people, he decided to put the blame on the little girl, claiming that she was a witch who had often harboured vindicative thoughts about not getting a reward for her kindness. In the middle of the night, the girl was brought to the town centre and burned at the stake.

The girl wept, not knowing what she did wrong. Her cries of injustice reached the ears of an old man who have seen everything that has happened in her life. Taking her hand, he held her close, whispering words of consolation into her ear. When her cries subsided, the little girl looked up at him and asked him tearfully, "Please, tell me what crime have I commited that I had to die for it?"
"Nothing my dear child," the old man replied. "The only crime that you have commited was to be an idealist."

;I CREATED A SHEEP!
11:57 PM