<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-5236149830777410803</id><updated>2024-09-02T03:40:51.136+08:00</updated><category term="just sharing"/><category term="rhetorical composing"/><title type='text'>A Bouquet of Roses</title><subtitle type='html'>i write.&#xa;i express.&#xa;i share.&#xa;&#xa;...i may not be a rose in a beautiful garden, may not be a princess in a castle, may not be a star in the heavens but i am a princess holding a rose staring happily on the bright stars, silently admiring its vibrant colors...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-5450151284836218639</id><published>2017-09-16T16:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2017-12-14T14:01:27.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It All Gone?</title><content type='html'>It is heartbreaking to see my sand castle falling. But it is not a simple sand castle because I built it for years. It had a very happy beginning. Built on a good foundation.&lt;br /&gt;
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There were storms and earthquakes but none of it made our castle fall. No matter how hard they shake, it still stands still.&lt;br /&gt;
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There are moments when the castle remains still and unattended. But still, it remains standing.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWrDrX-LCpbNrokEBS7fGWeNX9963gr1K4s6aWKVMJkGObQWhWrNydcxF_P04RYE6O7Cz1HGU2IQxVpetZe7yaM4xZqh0CFVXuUmkSoU2LP4sl-Jpy3bmg5fixI1ugCp8tOQAiq8OcPo/s1600/sand-1439970_960_720.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;642&quot; data-original-width=&quot;960&quot; height=&quot;214&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWrDrX-LCpbNrokEBS7fGWeNX9963gr1K4s6aWKVMJkGObQWhWrNydcxF_P04RYE6O7Cz1HGU2IQxVpetZe7yaM4xZqh0CFVXuUmkSoU2LP4sl-Jpy3bmg5fixI1ugCp8tOQAiq8OcPo/s320/sand-1439970_960_720.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
All these years, I am very confident that the castle we built will remain strong. Yet, today, I realized that I was wrong because I forgot what it was made of. It was merely made of sand.&lt;br /&gt;
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Sand will crumble. Sand will fall. Sand will wither. And so is our castle.&lt;br /&gt;
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I was so confident with its good foundation that I forgot to decorate it. I overlooked cleaning it so it will remain beautiful and grand.&lt;br /&gt;
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All I could do now is stare at the castle with tears falling down my cheeks. Will it ever be the same again? Can I still rebuild it with the same glory? Can I still build a castle with you again?&lt;br /&gt;
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But I can&#39;t seem to figure out how to start over again. I don&#39;t even know how I could ask you to help me work on it again. Will you stay and happily help me build a castle?&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not sure if you&#39;ll agree. But there is still a little hope left for me.&lt;br /&gt;
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Because as I cry with silent tears and I growl in pain, I can still feel that there is a part of you that wants to stay with me. I know you will if you stop looking around and if you focus in our castle.&lt;br /&gt;
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Do you still have the heart to do that?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/5450151284836218639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/5450151284836218639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5450151284836218639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5450151284836218639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2017/09/is-it-all-gone.html' title='Is It All Gone?'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWrDrX-LCpbNrokEBS7fGWeNX9963gr1K4s6aWKVMJkGObQWhWrNydcxF_P04RYE6O7Cz1HGU2IQxVpetZe7yaM4xZqh0CFVXuUmkSoU2LP4sl-Jpy3bmg5fixI1ugCp8tOQAiq8OcPo/s72-c/sand-1439970_960_720.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-991258550527952475</id><published>2013-05-06T13:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2013-06-11T02:07:14.195+08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="just sharing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rhetorical composing"/><title type='text'>Me, As a Writer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I am so busy these that I wasn&#39;t able to post new stuff in my blog. Been working on a lot of write-ups and some floor plans too. But I thought of sharing to you something today. I also shared this on my other blog &lt;a href=&quot;http://pinkheartstring.blogspot.com/&quot;&gt;Pink Heart String&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I am currently enrolled in an online course, Writing II Rhetorical Composing in Coursera. For our first assignment, we were told to write a literary narrative about how we became a writer. The assignment was named Getting to Know You. So, I will share with you my assignment so you will also get to know more about me. Here it is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Snowflakes, Ink Blots and a Dream&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Snowflakes, snowflakes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Up in the air, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Where you came from, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I know not where.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Snowflakes, snowflakes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So lovely in the sky,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Why you are there, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Oh, I wonder why!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Snowflakes, snowflakes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;You come in different shapes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I wonder what it takes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;To see you and be my keepsake.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;This poem didn’t begin with a poem. It begun with a craft and a dream. I was snipping colored papers, shaping them into circles, folding them into whatever manner I can think of and snap snap snap. I ended up having paper art that looked like snowflakes (well, for me they were snowflakes). I was making them so I can add it on my scrap book of dreams for I always wanted to see real snowflakes since we do not have snow here in the Philippines. Upon seeing those colorful snowflakes, words suddenly played on my mind and I wrote it on paper with a pen that blots ink every now and then. I was 7 years old and I loved arts. I loved crafts. I did not even know I’ll be able to write. I didn’t even know that I could write.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Yes, it all started with a craft and a dream. With that short poem, I have begun creating the foundation of my future as a writer. From that day, I felt like I found my Personal Legend like what Coehlo refers to. It seems that the snowflakes and the ink blots from my pen where the keys to what I am today. From that day, a writer was born.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I then began writing more poems. I even wrote one for my teacher in Grade 5. I became part of the school paper and was sent to various writing competitions. But along with that writing, I was also a consistent representative of our school for drawing contests, extemporaneous speaking contests and quiz bees. Oh well. My life as a grade school pupil was like a whirlwind of contests and quiz bees. But despite my busy schedule of reviews and practices for the contests I was sent to, I couldn’t put to hiatus the words that play in my mind. They are always there. The words kept on swirling like endless music in my mind. I always have something to write about. My craft and my dreams were always linked to the words that danced on my mind, and I cannot make them stop.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I brought a pen and paper with me all the time so that I can scribble those dancing words every time they come up. That is how I came up with lots of poems and stories. I even tried writing my own songs, too. I made it a habit to always have a pen and a piece of paper in my pocket. I didn’t care even if my pen sometimes blots ink into the fabric of my school uniform. At least, there is still ink to bring the words to life. At least, there was still ink to add another step that leads to my dreams. At least, the ink is there, I can see it, I can feel it, it is mine. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;My writing prowess was sharpened through time. The ink blots kept coming. I continued writing in high school and once again became part of the school paper as an Associate Editor. But I felt that it wasn’t enough to express myself in it. So, I founded a paper for our batch where anyone can write just anything they want to- from letters to secret crushes to funny stories about our senior life. It was funded by donations from classmates who were also willing to read the “latest” buzz. It was a big hit and until now, I never regret creating that paper which we named Heart Beats because it is where our heartbeats can be expressed and taken to every single person from our batch like a heart string that seemingly connects us. It is where friendship and love was molded, too.&amp;nbsp; The ink blots came more often especially that I had to bring technical pens for my Major classes in drafting. And well, my heart beats had more to express especially that I started to love, hate, admire and feel pain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;College was a totally big thing for me. I joined the school paper and passed as a Senior Writer. From that, I was promoted as a Feature Editor, a News Editor, an Associate Editor and became the Editor-in-Chief. I was Third Year College when I became Editor and continued being one for another year. It was a dream I always wanted to achieve.&amp;nbsp; Since I have grasped that dream, I made sure I did well and I made sure I’ll leave ink blots that will never be forgotten. And I sure did because apart from writing, we fought for press freedom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Our college publications that included a monthly newsletter, a magazine, a tabloid and a literary folio are one of the best publications in the Region. We garner plenty of awards each year for every release we make. I can never be prouder because as Editor, I made sure we will create big changes for the betterment of the paper. But as we work harder for meatier contents and more engaging layouts, our freedom to write were given limits. Our adviser controlled what to write, choosing only those that matter to him, excluding big events that involved people he dislike, deleting lines from news stories that offended the people he look up to even it is the truth and creating a newsletter without even telling the Editorial Board. Without my knowledge, he has instructed some staffers to make a newsletter WITHOUT our names on the masthead. He even gave instructions that no one else but only “him” should edit all the articles. The section editors and the member of the Editorial Board were surpassed. As a college paper, we were supposed to be the “boss” because it is OUR paper. It is where we express and unveil the voice of the students and not that of a technical adviser. I felt so bad about it and I realized it was about time to expose all his doings including corruption. It was a struggle for all of us especially for the editors but we succeeded in unveiling his doings to the entire university by writing a press release. It was a courageous act and I never regret for doing such. With the power of my pen, I made a difference in our university. With my inkblots, I divulged the truth – a veracity that stayed unveiled for years. With the power of my pen, I stood for our rights to express and to write. With my inkblots, we made history.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I know, up to this day, my ink blots are still seen as silhouettes in our College paper.&amp;nbsp; I may have graduated and I may have ended my post in an unexpected way but I know, the ink blots stayed. I may look rebellious for some but I see more people who applauded my acts. My writing continued after college as I joined a local community paper and wrote for different websites. Well, the ink blots never stopped.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I had so much flare in writing. I feel like writing is a fire that seemingly burns within me. I feel like every time my fingertips touch the computer’s keyboard, there is a force that runs from me and into my hands. The power of my hand, my mind and my heart is combined and they result into a huge ink blot. I may not be using my pen these days because it is much easier to write using the computer, but I still look at these letters and words on my screen as ink blots. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Yes, it all started with a craft and a dream. Writing is not just about writing. It is about who you are, what you can do, and what you dream of. It is about crafts and the things we love to create with our bare hands from luscious food to creative works. It is about dreams and the things we always wanted to achieve from simple desires to huge ambitions.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Yes, it all started with a craft and a dream because the day I made and dreamed of snowflakes, is the day the ink blots started. It was the day when a writer was born.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/991258550527952475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/991258550527952475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/991258550527952475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/991258550527952475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2013/05/me-as-writer.html' title='Me, As a Writer'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcfWFuJXUlXMcMvNyz2DPSziJBZgknjP5GoA5E03gJUlvwnI6HYPy-I66gn-lyLq_FuqkT7ghpUyyyEzNSLLMfHwVs7LnNhHvxpqygsFt0u5BdxZlwua5ADjC5etcT84YkxFN-jz6OE22/s72-c/bella-me.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-8970163927609512997</id><published>2011-02-28T16:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T16:02:28.749+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When There Is Great Love and Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I was welcomed by cheers and joys when I returned to my own kingdom. I feel the sweet taste of freedom and independence. I felt like I was a captive, a princess locked in a tower...in a dragon’s keep who was finally freed from prison.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The trip was good and as I came nearer, the feeling gets better and better. It is the day when I returned that I realized what love and happiness really is. It is the day when I came back to my kingdom when I realized that there is so much more to life for I have been blindfolded for quite some time. Nothing can compare to the joy of being home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;...and nothing can compare to the joy of finally meeting the one true prince.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4MG8a3Urbt8-DK6ovY9pTroPFn48GtqHWfgrgFeaCo64EpKs6CuHA3hCjyRWJUhXGQnubO0La0NTHSo9OtQY_Vou5AfG0YGsLs3Mj9JPiSnUmTZU4Lgyu9RRedu2vR8FXoMWm2zGj58/s1600/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou_thumb.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;256&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4MG8a3Urbt8-DK6ovY9pTroPFn48GtqHWfgrgFeaCo64EpKs6CuHA3hCjyRWJUhXGQnubO0La0NTHSo9OtQY_Vou5AfG0YGsLs3Mj9JPiSnUmTZU4Lgyu9RRedu2vR8FXoMWm2zGj58/s320/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou_thumb.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;There had been pretenders before, fake princes who pretended to feel the pea under lots of mattresses. There had been princes who were actually frogs. There had been princes who spoke words of lies and broke promises. There had been clowns and false royalties. And I wasn’t that good to immediately determine their falsehood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I didn’t notice that the prince I had been waiting for had always been around. I have seen him everywhere. He even exists in my dreams just standing in a corner, just an extra person in a scene where everyone is in motion while he is merely watching. I saw him in my dreams a hundred times but I did not give him much attention. I met him on covered paths and long walks but still I didn’t pay any attention to him especially that he seems to be just staring at me and never smiled even if I already smiled at him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxzSLGRSwym6Eao4RiTjIgABoEHv59WrT_5OpdRp0gYbadb_jWND6hSKqCJcDJC_RHXEddDeT7aL9cgUHKy_SA5cnB9lAWtgjRCKwOv8aLUmUCnzZKZ8pyc0ermSNHMEuFU1KxPswlhQ/s1600/Prince_and_Princess_Peach_by_soul_sama.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxzSLGRSwym6Eao4RiTjIgABoEHv59WrT_5OpdRp0gYbadb_jWND6hSKqCJcDJC_RHXEddDeT7aL9cgUHKy_SA5cnB9lAWtgjRCKwOv8aLUmUCnzZKZ8pyc0ermSNHMEuFU1KxPswlhQ/s400/Prince_and_Princess_Peach_by_soul_sama.jpg&quot; width=&quot;286&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had this dream once. A man with his silhouette stood under a bright light with his face unmasked. And he came to me and hugged me. I was confused coz I didn’t know him all I know is there was a different spark when his hands touched me. When I woke up, the only person that came to my mind was him. And after almost a year, he finally came. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I didn’t know that all this time, he had been waiting for me in my kingdom and he was one of the happiest person to meet me in my arrival.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Though I was still guarded and the fear of making another mistake still enveloped me, I could no longer hide my true feelings. Yes, I am a princess. I am a princess who is once again captivated but this time, I allowed myself to be captured for this is the only way I could feel true happiness and true love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;In a wink of eye, without I realizing it...I have fallen into the arms of the man who lived in my dreams. After all, he wasn’t just a dream but he is meant for me for real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;My prince is now here. We faced challenges together and succeeded. We will build a great kingdom together whatever the hindrances are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;No one can ever stop us for our love greater than any other love. No one can surpass the love that we have for each other—no one but us. No one can untie the knot that we have magically created neither clowns nor frogs, neither false princesses nor fake princes. No one can break us apart for we are reigning our kingdom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_1eiu1MBqegSpgbiyUjwkCsqEGdm3RzkX-lTeR3bo_4pSvOyQgVfoefB7_FXIYOYSL8cmnQ-6t9jRcb6TOnzDb_ihR4PahyphenhyphenglTgWVDI7uSwePque0EdIm6_1JDQqY1AnMBN-zprrcAY/s1600/264881.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_1eiu1MBqegSpgbiyUjwkCsqEGdm3RzkX-lTeR3bo_4pSvOyQgVfoefB7_FXIYOYSL8cmnQ-6t9jRcb6TOnzDb_ihR4PahyphenhyphenglTgWVDI7uSwePque0EdIm6_1JDQqY1AnMBN-zprrcAY/s320/264881.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am home. I am home with my prince and nothing feels so great than being home with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;The princess is back and I will never ever leave my beautiful kingdom again. I&#39;ll live here with my prince forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/8970163927609512997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/8970163927609512997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8970163927609512997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8970163927609512997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-there-is-great-love-and-joy.html' title='When There Is Great Love and Joy'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4MG8a3Urbt8-DK6ovY9pTroPFn48GtqHWfgrgFeaCo64EpKs6CuHA3hCjyRWJUhXGQnubO0La0NTHSo9OtQY_Vou5AfG0YGsLs3Mj9JPiSnUmTZU4Lgyu9RRedu2vR8FXoMWm2zGj58/s72-c/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou_thumb.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-3845112002356128374</id><published>2011-02-28T15:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T15:11:27.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBpdkrOtiRAdE8Vi7N2-NDKp9CtbR8fU2smAROtTVUXcLpSwUpAjO51l7jLoZjCqkH4OKpTHSvNBeIb_oeNsMuMqlgFRbuYFTDR6OxzfCCM1wFSp4aFsH82MhaCf_8vyWuidEFLS7Hpc/s1600/i-love-u.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;121&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBpdkrOtiRAdE8Vi7N2-NDKp9CtbR8fU2smAROtTVUXcLpSwUpAjO51l7jLoZjCqkH4OKpTHSvNBeIb_oeNsMuMqlgFRbuYFTDR6OxzfCCM1wFSp4aFsH82MhaCf_8vyWuidEFLS7Hpc/s200/i-love-u.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given eyes to see,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; These four wall could surely know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;How joy shoot forth from you and me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given the sense to feel,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This softness beneath us would truly know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;How we adore each other, so real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given ears to listen,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; These forlorn books on the shelf could surely know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;How our lips utter words of love that glistens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given lips to speak,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This pillow beneath our heads would truly know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;How we think of each other ‘til nights peak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given a nose to smell,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; These hanged clothes above us could surely know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; How we love each one’s scent like a love spell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;If given all the senses,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; These things around us would indeed dance and sing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Knowing that he love we have is everlasting.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOE1WA5eg4Y6kj4TNPHRc2Njp-IdLVNGU3TPShI8E13NjovXdHmmqbRl2qiQYIkKURGfgAsS93e0NxxmcVzMN9bV2C8-AYi1dg-IPrP6HvmlvLoTrVPwJRK1nDoP1oW3do2SZ2nr9PsVM/s1600/lovers.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;265&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOE1WA5eg4Y6kj4TNPHRc2Njp-IdLVNGU3TPShI8E13NjovXdHmmqbRl2qiQYIkKURGfgAsS93e0NxxmcVzMN9bV2C8-AYi1dg-IPrP6HvmlvLoTrVPwJRK1nDoP1oW3do2SZ2nr9PsVM/s400/lovers.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/3845112002356128374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/3845112002356128374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/3845112002356128374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/3845112002356128374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2011/02/if.html' title='If ..'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcBpdkrOtiRAdE8Vi7N2-NDKp9CtbR8fU2smAROtTVUXcLpSwUpAjO51l7jLoZjCqkH4OKpTHSvNBeIb_oeNsMuMqlgFRbuYFTDR6OxzfCCM1wFSp4aFsH82MhaCf_8vyWuidEFLS7Hpc/s72-c/i-love-u.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-2417403655795298644</id><published>2009-03-09T18:22:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T13:28:57.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>let my world be mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align=&quot;justify&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVdPoXxTC5AWJTZGBhfM7QmXy81dSNBW5Rdjg9QcGz5UWIDNwzZ28ORFSaMEu6EEz5-P4TXoM8hid4jKAvoKNn2w9nimLqjT7-7RAOWyL-1-tN6yr9OJIbQxWQN-i3j56H0Q8YX-daHg/s1600-h/105734464_aca9a76d66.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311142575998543218&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVdPoXxTC5AWJTZGBhfM7QmXy81dSNBW5Rdjg9QcGz5UWIDNwzZ28ORFSaMEu6EEz5-P4TXoM8hid4jKAvoKNn2w9nimLqjT7-7RAOWyL-1-tN6yr9OJIbQxWQN-i3j56H0Q8YX-daHg/s400/105734464_aca9a76d66.jpg&quot; style=&quot;cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;i really do not have a clear idea of how my world looks like. all this time, i had been residing in someone else&#39;s world and i had been trying to decorate that world. i had forgotten that i was a princess in my own kingdom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;yes, i am a princess who had lost my crown when i fell in love with a man who made me forget who i was. i am a princess who allowed someone else to reign my world and be a captive of his own heart. i am princess who swallowed my highness by granting my man&#39;s desires just to make him happy. i am princess who only thought of that man&#39;s happiness and never of my own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;i could endure every pain that enters my heart and could perfectly understand everything that enters my mind. only that my mind and my heart could not agree to totally let go of that person for it was a hard thing to do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;all this time, i had been committing suicide that everytime i see him and every moment that i spend with him, i knew he was there but he is not mine and he will never be mine. the pain of all pains is nothing compared to the ache i felt when i am being slapped with the thought that &quot;he is just with me but he isn&#39;t mine&quot;...i died a thousand times but he never attempted to make me live again. he never tried to reincarnate this princess for all he knew was his own goodness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;stupid i was when i allowed love to reign my world. dumb i was when i allowed him to reign my kingdom. crazy i was to endure all of it for a long period of time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;but stupid, dumb and crazy as i may seem...all i know is that despite of all the pain, despite of dying a thousand times, i cannot deny the fact that the man still resides in my heart and i cannot find a way to let him leave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;i tried to let him leave many times but i never succeeded becuase deep inside me, i never really wanted to lose him. i want to leave his world but i want him to stay in my world and still be a part of it, even if he isn&#39;t mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;if he isn&#39;t mine, who owns him then? no one. loving is not owning. i do not own him. nobody owns him. he is an individual who has the ability and the freedom to choose who he wants to spend his life with and even if he will not end up with me, at least, i was given the chance to pass by his kingdom and decorate it with the luxury i have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;my kingdom is dying. my people are dying of hunger. it is time for me to come back and bring back the beautiful kingdom i once loved and cherished.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;my vacation is over. i am back home. the princess is retiring to the castle she worked hard for and there, i will wait for my &lt;b&gt;real prince&lt;/b&gt; to come.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;i just hope, the next one is the right one for my heart is tired of making mistakes and it is tired of entering different worlds and leaving it empty handed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;if a new one is coming and if that new one is the right one, i&#39;ll make sure that we will spend forever together...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNYKVJeyqGSeI8vaM6xtO5eJ1XwmNsr93BL-oyS1cxyNYGDRowakBNVjuXVgpRb8xi5vBHpAF6HjkSN4cLrLwCg9pGHdwsT7XpPTVOl7r4nAEL1oSzfW9mtRcheOYZRJhv5oZ7XuwPd48/s1600-h/the_raven_princess.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311139862458827090&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNYKVJeyqGSeI8vaM6xtO5eJ1XwmNsr93BL-oyS1cxyNYGDRowakBNVjuXVgpRb8xi5vBHpAF6HjkSN4cLrLwCg9pGHdwsT7XpPTVOl7r4nAEL1oSzfW9mtRcheOYZRJhv5oZ7XuwPd48/s400/the_raven_princess.jpg&quot; style=&quot;cursor: hand; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 289px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;i will rest in seclusion because i am tired of dying again and again. i need to listen to the merriment of my people to regain courage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;by the time i come out, i&#39;ll be a better princess with or without my prince.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;so long...i&#39;m going home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/2417403655795298644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/2417403655795298644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/2417403655795298644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/2417403655795298644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2009/03/let-my-world-be-mine.html' title='let my world be mine'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVdPoXxTC5AWJTZGBhfM7QmXy81dSNBW5Rdjg9QcGz5UWIDNwzZ28ORFSaMEu6EEz5-P4TXoM8hid4jKAvoKNn2w9nimLqjT7-7RAOWyL-1-tN6yr9OJIbQxWQN-i3j56H0Q8YX-daHg/s72-c/105734464_aca9a76d66.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-5209241156551150621</id><published>2008-12-15T19:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:22:50.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In My Silence, I Cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSi0pIFnlxke8TZL_P0V5L0wSTbf-B3Nu9pfsz9DZ3no_TrpnC977qFWc5Xh6hvuijnsraDFVg_UQcIlAOeCWkl3cpavSJ5hlbWG9oIjCcO3olLB7SBvgByDtW_BtztYxKbaOK1N2D5I/s1600-h/3025554720_7aa27674b6.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 312px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSi0pIFnlxke8TZL_P0V5L0wSTbf-B3Nu9pfsz9DZ3no_TrpnC977qFWc5Xh6hvuijnsraDFVg_UQcIlAOeCWkl3cpavSJ5hlbWG9oIjCcO3olLB7SBvgByDtW_BtztYxKbaOK1N2D5I/s400/3025554720_7aa27674b6.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279974907638835858&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;111008.2.48.a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one the drops of rain slowly roll down my face as I walked in the aisle of fallen leaves. I choose to get wet and continued heading to a place of nowhere. Inside of me are broken diamonds that glistened despite its distorted shapes. Inside of me are unending questions of why and what if. Inside of me is a lady vigorously struggling to step out of the quicksand that unceasingly grabs her entirety to make her stay even if she wants to leave. Inside of me is a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued walking not knowing where I was heading. My mind was empty as the abandoned hall I walked past by. It was empty except for the thought of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did he emptied my mind and left only his memory? Why did I allow him to corrupt the person I used to be? Why does he reside inside of me and choose not to leave?...Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a dried rose blown to the wind…going with the direction, twirling high and low. Like the leaves under my feet, I became lifeless. I became dull. I lost the life-giving part that once made me beautiful and attractive. I lost the smiles and joys that once made me bloom and sparkle. I lost the beauty and glee the butterflies used to love. I have lost the real me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is love so undefined? Why does it hurt so much when it felt so beautiful? Why does it have to take a detour?...Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I had got lost when he took over my life. I have offered myself on bended knee and open arms. I have given all of my everything and was left with nothing but the thought of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a lost cat, I continued walking. Eyes weary. Hair left hanging on my damp shoulders. Clothes dripping with the overflowing pain from within. I wished his arms were wrapped around me. I yearned of his hands interlocking mine as he gives me the gaze I so longed for. I imagined the warmth of his being walking with me, sharing the gift of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But did he know what love is? Did he know how it is to love? Did he know he was loved? It’s hard to say the answer coz the answer is no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the greatest fool for allowing myself to get drunk with the liquor he offered me. I was the greatest fool for allowing him to take the pretty rose I kept so dearly. I was the greatest fool for believing in all the promises he said. I was the greatest fool for still waiting for his return. I am and I was the greatest grandest fool for loving him so sincerely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a hiatus. I fell down on my knees and looked up to the sunlight that came peeping between cotton white clouds. The rain has stopped but I am still wet. The sunlight beamed on me and I knew I should resist to be taken into the quicksand now. I knew I needed to take back what was mine. I knew I should stand up, regain strength and walk to the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I struggled to clothe myself with the real me and I found my way home. But when I arrived, I realized I wasn’t able to take off the wet clothes I had…and so all my clothes are damp now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I let go of the foolishness I had? Why can’t I continue walking and never look back anymore? Why can’t I be myself again without the smudges of yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wet and it seems like I’ll never get dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no more paths to take for I have taken them all. I have no more tears to fall for I have wept it all. I have no more love to give for he had taken it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down in silence. Exhausted by the long walk I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down in silence. Looked blankly at nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still sat down in silence….&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;….in my silence I succumbed myself to the dried rose petals slowly joining the grains of sand.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/5209241156551150621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/5209241156551150621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5209241156551150621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5209241156551150621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-my-silence-i-cry.html' title='In My Silence, I Cry'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSi0pIFnlxke8TZL_P0V5L0wSTbf-B3Nu9pfsz9DZ3no_TrpnC977qFWc5Xh6hvuijnsraDFVg_UQcIlAOeCWkl3cpavSJ5hlbWG9oIjCcO3olLB7SBvgByDtW_BtztYxKbaOK1N2D5I/s72-c/3025554720_7aa27674b6.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-5118747530593732237</id><published>2008-09-21T18:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T19:00:22.249+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hush</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEa7NdwmvBU_8vkU7gs3j2Ob-mpVJz4Pz56KCEhfcq-UkfXElQQQrB1j-H4zCue-YMT2pVFqHHDgFwi24tS5kb6ob5M56IjZN8vEmo8uI7d0IYCKhtnMDo-MMVdZqonPB34hm4y7sMaMo/s1600-h/teddy.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248427405820653490&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEa7NdwmvBU_8vkU7gs3j2Ob-mpVJz4Pz56KCEhfcq-UkfXElQQQrB1j-H4zCue-YMT2pVFqHHDgFwi24tS5kb6ob5M56IjZN8vEmo8uI7d0IYCKhtnMDo-MMVdZqonPB34hm4y7sMaMo/s400/teddy.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;It’s his eyes that I could only see&lt;br /&gt;And the shadows that danced on the wall&lt;br /&gt;Silhouettes which moved freely&lt;br /&gt;Like aphorisms others cannot see.&lt;br /&gt;It’s his breath I could only feel&lt;br /&gt;And the beating of our hearts as shadows moved&lt;br /&gt;Pounding like a gong starting a feast&lt;br /&gt;Racing like cheetahs on a verdant field.&lt;br /&gt;It’s his arms I could only touch&lt;br /&gt;And the lump in your throat that whispered&lt;br /&gt;Whispered with the tone of our pounding hearts&lt;br /&gt;Saying words that seems so endless, seems so real…&lt;br /&gt;It’s his voice I could only listen&lt;br /&gt;And the bodily art he created for the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Dancing like clouds in the vast heavens&lt;br /&gt;Filling each other’s emotions with tenderness.&lt;br /&gt;Indeed,&lt;br /&gt;It’s his eyes that I could only see&lt;br /&gt;It’s his breath I could only feel&lt;br /&gt;It’s his arms I could only touch&lt;br /&gt;It’s his voice I could only listen&lt;br /&gt;The world was emptied with people&lt;br /&gt;It was only you and me…&lt;br /&gt;But I can no longer see the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Only a lonely silhouette of a girl…&lt;br /&gt;Cuddling her teddy bear&lt;br /&gt;Thinking deeply as tears rolled down her cheeks,&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what to do with the life she is conceiving&lt;br /&gt;Regretting the day she believed him when he said,&lt;br /&gt;“Hush…dance with the shadows…”&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/5118747530593732237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/5118747530593732237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5118747530593732237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5118747530593732237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/09/hush.html' title='Hush'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEa7NdwmvBU_8vkU7gs3j2Ob-mpVJz4Pz56KCEhfcq-UkfXElQQQrB1j-H4zCue-YMT2pVFqHHDgFwi24tS5kb6ob5M56IjZN8vEmo8uI7d0IYCKhtnMDo-MMVdZqonPB34hm4y7sMaMo/s72-c/teddy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-2386379437975239322</id><published>2008-09-21T18:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T18:41:13.669+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gather</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Gather&lt;br /&gt;08-23-08&lt;br /&gt;5.59 pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday dwells inside me,&lt;br /&gt;It slowly kills me.&lt;br /&gt;It cuts me into pieces.&lt;br /&gt;It breaks me.&lt;br /&gt;Yet no one dares to pick it.&lt;br /&gt;To rearrange it.&lt;br /&gt;To fix it.&lt;br /&gt;To complete it.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is just a dream.&lt;br /&gt;It consumes me.&lt;br /&gt;It saddens me.&lt;br /&gt;It fears me.&lt;br /&gt;The pieces will still be there.&lt;br /&gt;It bleeds often.&lt;br /&gt;It stays incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;It remained broken.&lt;br /&gt;Can you bring back the pieces for me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGv0wS_LgdhA886ahw7MrSKtPGYMalE2lf8ug80z3JkR4A-l38ctUV3lSyyJ7IdUPrELofNsD7-17ghUawXToRJ7fDWChwFkfmga-XO8teLoPfdlXIGEULOsXJ0LbuqxuGOihBU9jG2Tk/s1600-h/how-to-heal-a-broken-heart.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248422577500467042&quot; style=&quot;CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGv0wS_LgdhA886ahw7MrSKtPGYMalE2lf8ug80z3JkR4A-l38ctUV3lSyyJ7IdUPrELofNsD7-17ghUawXToRJ7fDWChwFkfmga-XO8teLoPfdlXIGEULOsXJ0LbuqxuGOihBU9jG2Tk/s400/how-to-heal-a-broken-heart.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/2386379437975239322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/2386379437975239322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/2386379437975239322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/2386379437975239322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/09/gather.html' title='Gather'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGv0wS_LgdhA886ahw7MrSKtPGYMalE2lf8ug80z3JkR4A-l38ctUV3lSyyJ7IdUPrELofNsD7-17ghUawXToRJ7fDWChwFkfmga-XO8teLoPfdlXIGEULOsXJ0LbuqxuGOihBU9jG2Tk/s72-c/how-to-heal-a-broken-heart.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-8971250890194599749</id><published>2008-09-21T18:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T18:37:36.532+08:00</updated><title type='text'>emotional crystal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVb2uM8t63NM_IOhWHel1G61hNt6xyr1Vr8427RrEkJx5CUM3CgHwTJfwkMK6Tq5ls1NM9ILRfLGHLivEIoqYj6nuzQ009u6IybBslUbth5RP1hO1Z-uQEA6vySPzYOpLu1Te2fzjZes/s1600-h/tears.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color:#ff0000;&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248420874493328962&quot; style=&quot;DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVb2uM8t63NM_IOhWHel1G61hNt6xyr1Vr8427RrEkJx5CUM3CgHwTJfwkMK6Tq5ls1NM9ILRfLGHLivEIoqYj6nuzQ009u6IybBslUbth5RP1hO1Z-uQEA6vySPzYOpLu1Te2fzjZes/s400/tears.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color:#ff0000;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color:#ff0000;&quot;&gt;08-23-08&lt;br /&gt;6.31 pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;&quot;&gt;It peeped out in the corners of my eye&lt;br /&gt;Glittering like a crystal…&lt;br /&gt;Slowly coming out with the pour of emotions&lt;br /&gt;Seeping out of the cracks in my heart&lt;br /&gt;                  Which was once red and healthy&lt;br /&gt;                               Yet turned gray and frail.&lt;br /&gt;Little by little it crawled on my cheeks&lt;br /&gt;Trying to give comfort.&lt;br /&gt;My mind runs like a broken compact disc,&lt;br /&gt;Replaying moments,&lt;br /&gt;Flashing back words,&lt;br /&gt;                  It all seemed real&lt;br /&gt;                                It all seemed right.&lt;br /&gt;My cheeks are glittering with the emotional crystal;&lt;br /&gt;I felt it with my fingers…&lt;br /&gt;And it pained me.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts knowing that I have to shed it again for you.&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to absorb reality&lt;br /&gt;Coz the reality I know is different from the veracity.&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to accept the truth&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that I had been dwelling with so much lies,&lt;br /&gt;My face now glitters with the crystal…&lt;br /&gt;And I won’t wipe it.&lt;br /&gt;It’s my only way to pour out emotions,&lt;br /&gt;                        To lessen the pain,&lt;br /&gt;                        To give out hatred&lt;br /&gt;                        To accept the truth&lt;br /&gt;                        To learn living without you.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll just let it dry naturally&lt;br /&gt;So please don’t wipe it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/8971250890194599749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/8971250890194599749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8971250890194599749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8971250890194599749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/09/emotional-crystal.html' title='emotional crystal'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVb2uM8t63NM_IOhWHel1G61hNt6xyr1Vr8427RrEkJx5CUM3CgHwTJfwkMK6Tq5ls1NM9ILRfLGHLivEIoqYj6nuzQ009u6IybBslUbth5RP1hO1Z-uQEA6vySPzYOpLu1Te2fzjZes/s72-c/tears.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-890427211453303039</id><published>2008-07-14T19:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T19:27:05.837+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what some men are and what my man is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&quot;men are polygamous in nature and we cannot do anything about it... men are also born with spades in their hands, digging their own graves as women try to let them out of it...but it takes a lot of women to do that, that is y they need more women.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but no matter how many women will help them out of the grave if they keep on digging their graves, they will never find their way out...because in truth, only &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;ONE &lt;/span&gt;woman could do that...out of love...out of eternal care and unwavering endurance and sacrifices..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope you are not one of those men...coz my man is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life&#39;s lessons...hehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hearts and kisses..mwahh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/890427211453303039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/890427211453303039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/890427211453303039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/890427211453303039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-some-men-are-and-what-my-man-is.html' title='what some men are and what my man is...'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-4630525538383546447</id><published>2008-07-03T19:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T20:05:59.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a sad reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;How does politics really work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;Even in universities, it works the same as how it works in national elections. Sometimes, i feel sad to think that these people with their young minds are already exposed to things like this – competition, power, fame…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;But sometimes, there is a need to help look for leaders who could really render good services to the people. The betterment of the society relies on the people who run it, who govern it. So, it is really important that we choose leaders who work for the people and not for themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;School is the training ground for leaders. They are molded into good leaders if they are exposed to life’s realism. They can be good leaders if they posses “thinking minds” and “caring yet strong hearts.” They can be made into good leaders if they are molded through time and experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;But before one could be a leader, he or she needs to run into office (in the case of student council elections but it is different in smaller organizations). There wouldn’t be a desire to run for a position but the desire to serve the students will prevail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;Now, how does politics work in school?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;Just the way it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;Popularity works in politics. That is why, those who are rich and famous end up victorious during elections. While those who are good and experienced, end up worrying about the students.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;No doubt, it is a competition of who is more popular and who is not. But a good voter wouldn’t think that way. He or she wouldn’t consider the popularity of the person. It is what that person has done and what it could do if voted into the position.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;I just hope everyone in my school could be good voters. I am worried of the student council. I hope, they will vote for leaders who could render good services for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;He or she doesn’t need to be rich and popular. What is important is that he or she could is a real person and doesn’t have personal interests towards anything….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/4630525538383546447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/4630525538383546447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/4630525538383546447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/4630525538383546447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/07/sad-reality.html' title='a sad reality'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-8754021079338428114</id><published>2008-06-29T12:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T12:41:27.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my multiply site</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;http://neerakzeil.multiply.com/r/b&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://images.neerakzeil.multiply.com/badge/U2FsdGVkX19pZgRsDGC6Hs4Nc7.sCsTi.K.66mzVcmES6Z-.aApYnpQEnE2VjjN5jPqYHGw.q44w-oRx0MmZS6GMnGI0QDQpumrh7mqN9HZYXD-kFKjmptqdRV5hPRRuQmU7UiijNzLzAChtEQjSBw==/badge.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/8754021079338428114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/8754021079338428114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8754021079338428114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8754021079338428114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-multiply-site.html' title='my multiply site'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-721268789601117888</id><published>2008-06-28T21:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T21:29:13.619+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...cOz U R NuMb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixPE6Hmaej4oOQZj1dhuJ8D9831XarZ1y7w0A5d5h7mDsVkKiBc-AxgFNNQO-Mb-xhZdWR6rHjMgA1pT85QMBV6GggdAqmLL94AeiFv8cfcRNaXCMNNKkUIPj5k3e5smNf8d9Ra76C3Oc/s1600-h/951840120_34ad48e887.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixPE6Hmaej4oOQZj1dhuJ8D9831XarZ1y7w0A5d5h7mDsVkKiBc-AxgFNNQO-Mb-xhZdWR6rHjMgA1pT85QMBV6GggdAqmLL94AeiFv8cfcRNaXCMNNKkUIPj5k3e5smNf8d9Ra76C3Oc/s400/951840120_34ad48e887.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216923639855479090&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:130%;&quot; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;“….it is hard to shout when no matter how loud your voice is, still, you can’t be heard…but it is harder to shout when you are heard yet the other person just opted not to listen..”- kled&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard when you are trying to communicate but the other line won’t respond even if you have tried every possible way to reach for him. Does it cost a million to send a text message? Does it cost a cent to answer a call?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only cure for distance is communication. We are given all possible ways to communicate. Technology had given us all the means—cellphone, internet – but why is it so hard to communicate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can things work without communication?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know if this is hard for the other person…for me it is hard. I stay at home most of the time when I do not have review classes. When I stay home, I can’t help but think of things in Tacloban.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every night before I sleep, it hurts to think that I wouldn’t receive a “goodnight” from that person whom I consider special. It hurts to think that while I lay awake in bed for hours until dawn, he is asleep in his own bed not even remembering me. It hurts to think that being away for about a month means nothing to him. It hurts to think that while I lay with eyes open, I am wondering what he had been doing…while he stays unaware of how I am here. It hurts to wake up in the morning without his morning greetings. It hurts to go through things without his “kumusta”…but he wouldn’t know how much it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always try to brush the feeling of emptiness and longing but it haunts me. I always wanted to bury the thought but still it lingers inside me. I hate to accept the reality that I miss him so badly…I want to deny that fact but my heart couldn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could you reside inside me for too long? Am I residing inside you too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How would I know when you don’t even knock on my door? How would I know if you do not even draw a line to connect us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me…&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;how will I know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/721268789601117888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/721268789601117888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/721268789601117888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/721268789601117888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/coz-u-r-numb.html' title='...cOz U R NuMb'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixPE6Hmaej4oOQZj1dhuJ8D9831XarZ1y7w0A5d5h7mDsVkKiBc-AxgFNNQO-Mb-xhZdWR6rHjMgA1pT85QMBV6GggdAqmLL94AeiFv8cfcRNaXCMNNKkUIPj5k3e5smNf8d9Ra76C3Oc/s72-c/951840120_34ad48e887.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-5572853781574932349</id><published>2008-06-27T17:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T17:38:45.985+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Robbery</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style=&quot;text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;You have taken a part of me and that can never be given back. Never can it be returned for it was consumed, it was possessed by someone else’s life. No other life can give it back, no other breath can pay it back, no other love can bring it back…even the one who have taken it away can never give it back to me…it has been consumed…it has been taken….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have taken a part of my heart and now it isn’t complete. No cure could heal it, no patch can mend it and no cover can conceive it. The hole in my heart can never be mended for its depth can never be reached. It will stay there forever, that space you have taken. A piece from your heart cannot even complete it. My heart is incomplete but my life will always be complete despite my incomplete heart. Though it had a hole in it, it never ceased beating, it never stopped pumping blood into my body’s blood streams, it never quit loving, it never halted….it never bunged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have taken a part of my mind and now it’s confused. A part of it went astray and a part of it would always remind me of you. It would always flash back memories of you even if I don’t ask it to. This busy mind - so occupied, so overloaded would never miss a single thought of you. You always enter this busy mind without even asking permission to….same as you entered my heart just as you wished to and tried to get out when you want to…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, you have really taken a part of me….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have taken a part of my life and I am not asking you to bring it back to me for no matter how hard you try, you can never give it back. It has drowned in tears and has succumbed in your blood. It has withered in my fears and died in your fists. It has melted in my veins and dwelled in your heart. It found refuge in you, it found its sanctuary in you but it never found comfort, and so it died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you really did take a part of me….and you could not bring it back. Bring it with you, its your to keep, yours to cherish—that is, if you want to. Bring it with you, it yours to rubbish, yours to bury—that is, if you want to.&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:180%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:180%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 153);&quot;&gt;Now, bring it with you…and do anything you want to…coz I’m not asking it back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/5572853781574932349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/5572853781574932349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5572853781574932349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5572853781574932349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/robbery.html' title='Robbery'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-8920763201298568483</id><published>2008-06-26T21:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T21:26:13.753+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Strings are Still Attached</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHx2bjljLRMQwfVUVSBchuFpAabMOdkYup02k6Ocw3NWF2AKKPRx1oAd5hi-7GA69LroVvrte02vycSQ_JNpTIeXM_rZd7sbTlSikoa0mIQYAhiALmLis6EhpLksDGVDjktMYJMfMjyRU/s1600-h/344203415_0ca30f156a.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHx2bjljLRMQwfVUVSBchuFpAabMOdkYup02k6Ocw3NWF2AKKPRx1oAd5hi-7GA69LroVvrte02vycSQ_JNpTIeXM_rZd7sbTlSikoa0mIQYAhiALmLis6EhpLksDGVDjktMYJMfMjyRU/s400/344203415_0ca30f156a.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216180428566063346&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: right; font-family: arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:180%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(153, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&quot;The hardest thing to learn is to teach your heart and your mind what to do for they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(153, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;have their own choices. But not all their choices makes you happy.&quot;-kled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;One cannot tell his or her heart to follow what his or her minds says. The heart has its own mind and the mind has its own heart. They seldom go together and if they do, it is either wrong or right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;I do not know if i should follow my mind or my heart. What i know is, either way, i wouldn&#39;t be happy. I don&#39;t even know if my happiness still matters. All I know is the happiness of the other person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;It is hard when you are not sure if there are still strings attached between you and the other person. In my case, i am unsure. Maybe if there are still strings, those strings will just rot for it is not being polished. Those strings will never be as beautiful as how i want it to be. I need to know if there are still strings. I need to know if there is still a special connection in our hearts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;We do not communicate but every time the sun sets and the heavens are eaten by darkness, it is his memory that haunts me..scares me..I am scared because i do not know what i should do. I cannot bury my memories. I cannot forget it. It is said that memories are never forgotten. it is just being replaced by a better memory...how can i have better memories when i cannot pull another string to connect with me? How can a new string be connected to me when there is still an exisitng string?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;I am not sure if i could welcome a &quot;better memory&quot;....&#39;coz i think i have driven it away already. I have driven it away because there are still strings attached....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;....i guess, i will just bear my &quot;beautiful nightmare&quot; no matter how hard it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/8920763201298568483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/8920763201298568483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8920763201298568483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/8920763201298568483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-strings-are-still-attached.html' title='When Strings are Still Attached'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHx2bjljLRMQwfVUVSBchuFpAabMOdkYup02k6Ocw3NWF2AKKPRx1oAd5hi-7GA69LroVvrte02vycSQ_JNpTIeXM_rZd7sbTlSikoa0mIQYAhiALmLis6EhpLksDGVDjktMYJMfMjyRU/s72-c/344203415_0ca30f156a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-769355302861971675</id><published>2008-06-25T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T22:03:13.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...people who added color to my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style=&quot;visibility:visible;&quot;&gt;&lt;object type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; data=&quot;http://widget-aa.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;426&quot; style=&quot;width:426px;height:320px&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://widget-aa.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf&quot; /&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;quality&quot; value=&quot;high&quot; /&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;scale&quot; value=&quot;noscale&quot; /&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;salign&quot; value=&quot;l&quot; /&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;wmode&quot; value=&quot;transparent&quot;/&gt; &lt;param name=&quot;flashvars&quot; value=&quot;cy=ms&amp;il=1&amp;channel=144115188093494698&amp;site=widget-aa.slide.com&quot;/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=144115188093494698&amp;map=1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://widget-aa.slide.com/p1/144115188093494698/ms_t013_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; ismap=&quot;ismap&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=144115188093494698&amp;map=2&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://widget-aa.slide.com/p2/144115188093494698/ms_t013_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; ismap=&quot;ismap&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=144115188093494698&amp;map=E&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://widget-aa.slide.com/m/144115188093494698/ms_t013_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; ismap=&quot;ismap&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/769355302861971675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/769355302861971675' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/769355302861971675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/769355302861971675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/blog-post_25.html' title='...people who added color to my life'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-3580317371082583442</id><published>2008-06-19T11:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T11:37:41.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Choose Life&#39;s Choices Well</title><content type='html'>Different types of people come to our lives…one is that person that we first loved, first kissed, whom we thought we will give everything and whom we thought would be the last. Another one is that person whom we consider as our knight in shining armor for coming into our life just on time, whom we can put on a pedestal but like the first one, it got away. Another one is that person who seems so perfect, seems so right, seems so ideal, nothing is wrong with the combination, no flaw with the friendship…only that the cards didn’t fall into its right place…and like the first two, it also got away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will never know which one will come back first; we will never know if one of them will return, we will never know if one of them is right….because we will never know unless the right one comes. And that right person may not be one of them. Another person might enter your life and it is your choice to consider him/ her as a passer by or a main stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is our choice. Life is full of choices and it depends on us on how we choose. Destiny has nothing to do with life because we make our own destiny. Destiny is defeated when we make our choice. Destiny is defeated when we choose what we know is right and would make us happy. Destiny is defeated if we just try to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not about cowardice. It is about gathering up all our strength and face life with full armor and courage, that no matter how hard the choices are, we could still come up with the right one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our choice for life and love will make our destiny. At the end of the day, we will realize that you could blame no one for loosing a certain person but yourself, you could blame no one for being so stupid and blind but yourself, you could blame no one for being so hard headed but yourself…our life lies on how we deal with it. We make our own life. We were given our own hearts and minds so we can think of life’s choices and choose who to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It depends on us on how we use our heart and our mind wisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it won’t matter if there’ll be three or four or twenty persons who will knock on our hearts. It is our choice. We are to choose that person whom we love and could love us in return. It is not just counting bettle cars and that the color of the 50th bettle car would be the color of the shirt of the first guy who will speak to you and he would be your soul mate…its not about that guy who first smiled at you in school or that guy who uttered words you’ve wanted to hear or that guy who borrowed your notebook or someone you met at the ice cream stand. It’s not about signs. It’s about realism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not a movie. It is just “like” a movie. The difference is, we are the ones to direct our actions and not another person. Remember: We are on the driver’s seat…we choose which road to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a direct hold on our lives. Live it wisely. Live it right…and always choose to be happy.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/3580317371082583442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/3580317371082583442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/3580317371082583442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/3580317371082583442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/06/choose-lifes-choices-well.html' title='Choose Life&#39;s Choices Well'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-5603851340253615297</id><published>2008-05-03T15:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T16:02:09.518+08:00</updated><title type='text'>book review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUk0RXHcP_bp22c0jrAkas4IvbN97guAKB_s4tClcB3yQj624UQIZANu1gINJhj8IDlGwetUQbvFyVwdvuT0FpcpMEvcQ59kDgD8xXyJaXS-x2zaRFujoyBbBGCuYT9KDyTRPqXotGg6A/s1600-h/j.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUk0RXHcP_bp22c0jrAkas4IvbN97guAKB_s4tClcB3yQj624UQIZANu1gINJhj8IDlGwetUQbvFyVwdvuT0FpcpMEvcQ59kDgD8xXyJaXS-x2zaRFujoyBbBGCuYT9KDyTRPqXotGg6A/s400/j.gif&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196058560714779554&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i have read Mcnaught&#39;s Whitney, My Love and Until You...it was great. I tried reading another book written by McNaught and i found it hard to choose from her books. I have to decided to read Almost Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story was good though Whiteny, My Love is really better. It is about Elizabeth Cameron and Ian Thornton&#39;s romance. It shows that no matter how different you are and no matter how huge trouble and problems both of you faces, you will always end up loving each other if both of you could fight for your feelings and eventually sacrifice things just to be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian was Elizabeth&#39;s enemy. He was the reason why the &quot;ton&quot; gets rid of her thinking that at an early age she had been flirting with Ian (who is not considered part of the elite coz he is not a Lord or something..he is merely a Mister). Rumors said that they spent an afternoon together in a cottage in the woods, which was true. Elizabeth&#39;s reputation was ruined. In her debut, she received 14 proposals from men but when that happened, there were no more proposals. Since her brother, Robert disappeared after a duel with Ian, her uncle was her guardian. His Uncle needs to find someone to marry her to save Havenhurst (they do not have money anymore for they need to pay the debts of her father and Robert&#39;s due to gambling). Letters were sent to those 14 men who proposed to her before if they would like to reconsider their proposals. Only three responded and Ian was one of them...though the response was mistakenly sent to Elizabeth&#39;s Uncle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mistake paved the way to once again meet the lives of Elizabeth and Ian where they ended up realizing that they still love each other. Elizabeth is a Countess and his uncle will only allow her to marry someone who belongs to the &quot;ton&quot;. Since Ian is the only heir of of Duke of Stanhope, he accepted the title as Marquess of Kennigston just to marry Elizabeth...and they did marry.Though the reappearance of Robert caused another trouble for them, they still survived it and lived happily ever after.hehehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son, Jonathon asked him the meaning of heaven and Ian said it is the place where Elizabeth and her daughter Caroline is looking at the flowers in the garden. Ian&#39;s heaven is his family. His son then said that heaven &quot;will have what one most wanted could have&quot; and Ian called it Almost Heaven...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The novel tells us that what other people think of you is not important. Your own happiness and the truth, which you know, is what matters. Even if Ian wasn&#39;t liked by Elizabeth&#39;s friends, servants and family, he still pursued and fought for his love. Even if things between them was very chaotic, they ended up happy together. We just need to accept things as to what they are because no doubt, better things will occur in the future in exchange of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embrace life and think positive.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/5603851340253615297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/5603851340253615297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5603851340253615297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/5603851340253615297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-have-read-mcnaughts-whitney-my-love.html' title='book review'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUk0RXHcP_bp22c0jrAkas4IvbN97guAKB_s4tClcB3yQj624UQIZANu1gINJhj8IDlGwetUQbvFyVwdvuT0FpcpMEvcQ59kDgD8xXyJaXS-x2zaRFujoyBbBGCuYT9KDyTRPqXotGg6A/s72-c/j.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-6033302189017693750</id><published>2008-04-29T21:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T22:05:51.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dubious Possession, Vague Realization</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgOr9ZXqtKl34n5UNj471LoTEt9Ca3et85GTXIqEI8mqQlqqlh07K50bSJvKrvtdFUNfGldadd1lukfBL3IUlwAJbumbbTRunAa2ZotYb91IpU5QGcWxIdvoHPL-HIhHei6NLfdGAbP0/s1600-h/84808309_66e388193e.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgOr9ZXqtKl34n5UNj471LoTEt9Ca3et85GTXIqEI8mqQlqqlh07K50bSJvKrvtdFUNfGldadd1lukfBL3IUlwAJbumbbTRunAa2ZotYb91IpU5QGcWxIdvoHPL-HIhHei6NLfdGAbP0/s400/84808309_66e388193e.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194668155247012754&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Roses unfolding the redness inside me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Swathed my heart…my entirety&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;These petals slowly undraping with glee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Trying to unveil the veracity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Peeling the deepness…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Unraveling the emptiness….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Grip the stem of this forlorn petal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Sip all its sweet nectar…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours to keep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours to cherish..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;It’s yours to relish…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Open your heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Glance at this redness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Stare beyond the vastness &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Discern this emptiness…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Bisect the thinness of these petals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Caress all its brightest hues…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Its yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to marvel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to adore..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to admire….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Mind this bud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Look into its uniqueness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Be thrilled with its highness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Pervade this emptiness…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Scrutinize the potency of these sepals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Test its verdant shadows &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Its yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to dwell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to lurk…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Its yours to skulk…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Neglect it and you’ll suffer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Desert it...you lackluster!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;But its’ beauty you never could hinder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;It’s sincerity you couldn’t vex forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Grasp it in a jiffy….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Posses it mild and swiftly…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;A&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;n&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;y&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;w&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;a&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours to keep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Yours to marvel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;Yours to dwell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its yours…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;Its all yours…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 51);font-family:Arial;&quot; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/6033302189017693750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/6033302189017693750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/6033302189017693750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/6033302189017693750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/04/dubious-possession-vague-realization.html' title='Dubious Possession, Vague Realization'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgOr9ZXqtKl34n5UNj471LoTEt9Ca3et85GTXIqEI8mqQlqqlh07K50bSJvKrvtdFUNfGldadd1lukfBL3IUlwAJbumbbTRunAa2ZotYb91IpU5QGcWxIdvoHPL-HIhHei6NLfdGAbP0/s72-c/84808309_66e388193e.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-9168683816440407732</id><published>2008-04-29T20:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:59:53.678+08:00</updated><title type='text'>insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;confused as I may seem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;but ‘tis not true, my mind’s not dim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;nor is it slim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                                                &lt;/span&gt;neither thin nor lean…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;evanescent as my love would appear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;inside me its true, its clear, its real….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;those eyes might sneer at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;it may tell me there’s something within me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;but this heart discerns the veracity behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;they may not believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;nor adhere or mind…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;their reproof is vain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; style=&quot;color: rgb(102, 0, 51); font-size: 1.2em;&quot;&gt;for mine will take pride, I’m not insane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/9168683816440407732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/9168683816440407732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/9168683816440407732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/9168683816440407732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/04/insanity.html' title='insanity'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-7573222800066843198</id><published>2008-04-29T20:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:42:14.818+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vague Skies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg3tswRvM7it-hoQCiQQQyi_XdIn671SE2eNydeRJD4xfZJv8y2rDI6MYFPeGRnEiDtTnx8DRzQ9h4rVzAqL8-OEXRGRbdZQ3-OdoeYTvTWH8ftmziEpI2V0ZDnxec_hxgh3WS-0SrS0/s1600-h/spaceball.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg3tswRvM7it-hoQCiQQQyi_XdIn671SE2eNydeRJD4xfZJv8y2rDI6MYFPeGRnEiDtTnx8DRzQ9h4rVzAqL8-OEXRGRbdZQ3-OdoeYTvTWH8ftmziEpI2V0ZDnxec_hxgh3WS-0SrS0/s320/spaceball.gif&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194645035438057778&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style=&quot;font-family: arial;&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_Vo_p2YkgjsfM6JTR2BAnVU_BWWK6cnYUiZ4OICPrm_TvOfSYvsL-F3QwvLFDeN15vWvPGncuB61X6DSkwRn7rbBNG6vLxSag5W07OYkjh-pMNMGPW01ye_qDihRxsA2pUKm3M9-xuo/s1600-h/spaceball.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_Vo_p2YkgjsfM6JTR2BAnVU_BWWK6cnYUiZ4OICPrm_TvOfSYvsL-F3QwvLFDeN15vWvPGncuB61X6DSkwRn7rbBNG6vLxSag5W07OYkjh-pMNMGPW01ye_qDihRxsA2pUKm3M9-xuo/s320/spaceball.gif&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194643197192055074&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;&quot;  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;entry-content&quot;  style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;    &lt;div class=&quot;entry-body&quot;&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;Years of yore I didn’t feel this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;little pollen that made red roses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;            tiny tears that eyes discloses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                              minute moments, yes it amuses…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;heart opens though its closed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;         &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;            mind closes though it doesn’t chooses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;                                    this urge abuses….leads to misuses…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this heart still chooses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        avoid amuses, misuse impresses, ensconce depresses…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;         &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;                                    severe as it may be, it shouldn’t be…it couldn’t be!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;Murder this heart!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;let this butterfly depart!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;            Oh…don’t play your part…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        Please…disregard this art….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;Kill…feel…unveil….kill…unveil…feel…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;Kill!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                       Unreel…unpeel…it’s unreal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    Repel…don’t appeal….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                                Reveal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;…yes….hope it’s unreal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;Fight….avoid those delight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                    look at where there is light,make it bright, give it might..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    heal this sense of sight, wrap it with the light of night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                                grasp it tight, give it some height…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;oh dear this I deeply fear….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;               &lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 0, 0);&quot;&gt;                    don’t allow it, this beat I may not bear…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    dear make this clear…deer don’t you get near...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:100%;&quot;&gt;                                                fear, hear, tear….mere as it may appear…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:100%;&quot; &gt;I chooseth to kill…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);font-size:85%;&quot; &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(0, 102, 204);&quot;&gt;                                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 102);&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;vague isn&#39;t it? it may appear that way but i know what i am trying to imply...indeed, it is unclear but it is there. a writer or a poet doesn&#39;t need to explain his/ her writing for the words are there to explain it...the words and all those ellipses shows the emotion of the poet...hey, i wrote it pala...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 0, 102);&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: rgb(204, 204, 51);&quot;&gt;vague skies for in the expansion-- in the wide expansion of emotions thier is great ambiguity....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;       &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/7573222800066843198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/7573222800066843198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/7573222800066843198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/7573222800066843198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/04/vague-skies.html' title='Vague Skies'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg3tswRvM7it-hoQCiQQQyi_XdIn671SE2eNydeRJD4xfZJv8y2rDI6MYFPeGRnEiDtTnx8DRzQ9h4rVzAqL8-OEXRGRbdZQ3-OdoeYTvTWH8ftmziEpI2V0ZDnxec_hxgh3WS-0SrS0/s72-c/spaceball.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5236149830777410803.post-6733736890654386484</id><published>2008-04-14T21:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T21:46:47.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Liquid Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;If confusion could kill…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;I should have died today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;Locked in this empty room of blood and water, I opened my eyes trying to seek for light as I slowly crawled to the door. Inside me, I felt so helpless and alone. Deep within me, I knew the end will come...I swallowed a lump of fear…I blinked a strand of darkness…but nothing has changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;The door was just few inches from me but it seems like the more I crawl towards it, it become farther to reach. My hands and legs are trembling with coldness. I needed arms to wrap my body…caress my deepest flesh and tell me its okay. But no one was around. Down in all fours I continued crawling like a newly born baby who was naïve of the things that is happening around her. Down in all fours, I never ceased crawling…crawling…crawling…my heart beats fast…my mind stopped thinking…my breath slowly vanishing…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;“I won’t die…”, I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;My hair covered my eyes as I struggle to reach for the light that appears before my eyes coming from that door. Yes, that door painted with white and gray, that door which I had entered a few minutes ago…I shouldn’t have entered this room of blood and water..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;Blood and water flowing along the corners of the room…rolling on the edges of the walls…there was nothing inside. Just blood and water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;I crawled and crawled….breathed…breathed…breathed….breathed….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;It was hard. It was painful. It was hurting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;Tears rolled down my cheeks thinking that my efforts are worthless for still, I cannot reach for the door. Pain wrapped my entirety…my arms, my legs, my knees were aching...my mind was confused, my heart was bleeding…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;Pieces of memories run through my mind but none of them stopped me from crawling… I crawled more….I cried…I cried…I cried…I crawled and I cried…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;My face was wet with tears, my body wet with sweat…blood and water was all around me…Every parcel of my body ached as I continued moving…Every cell in my body felt much pain as I force myself to reach that door of regrets…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;Still I crawled…crawled…crawled….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;I finally reached the door…but I wasn’t happy. I was tired…so tired…very tired….i touched the door and pushed it open as I slowly fell on the floor….i was numb. I forgot all the pain that I felt, I forgot how much I struggled to reach the door. I forgot that blood and water surrounded me. I forgot that I was in that room….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;I blinked once. I blinked again. I closed my eyes for a while as I lay helpless on the floor wet with blood and water. I slowly opened it….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:arial;&quot;&gt;…..the light was gone…..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/feeds/6733736890654386484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5236149830777410803/6733736890654386484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/6733736890654386484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5236149830777410803/posts/default/6733736890654386484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neerakzeil.blogspot.com/2008/04/liquid-dreams.html' title='Liquid Dreams'/><author><name>Mommy K</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10052156948683138693</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEes6UketyalHMlo9DvYJGg-xiUJxSWlUP7WoY53Pp1uhpfzozo5YhhADph8JPqTx5-mawhmYZ_YvbTKQiXssessKSpkf1k_6vRYMAoUVHQSIAOy2eykM2Rz09qL3acik/s113/kareen-liez-bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>