<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIAQnk6fSp7ImA9WhRVFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405</id><updated>2012-01-15T02:42:23.715+08:00</updated><title>Born in Bentong</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>225</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/BornInBentong" /><feedburner:info uri="borninbentong" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEDQ3o5cCp7ImA9WhRWEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-3142217343853870373</id><published>2011-12-28T00:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T00:17:52.428+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-28T00:17:52.428+08:00</app:edited><title>Plan B</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/3142217343853870373/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=3142217343853870373&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/3142217343853870373?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/3142217343853870373?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/ZVToWYbWPf8/plan-b.html" title="Plan B" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">If there was a plan, it would have been Plan A and if it did not go right and you'd have to change it, then it's called Plan B.

My Plan A did not work out because I simply did not prepare well for it. I was just excited to do one thing but neglected other essential things so I suffered from the change of strategy.

Plans are strategies. It's as simple as that. Tactics are the details.

There are
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/83bBFcrSWGv0kxar6POQMa7D6xI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/83bBFcrSWGv0kxar6POQMa7D6xI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/83bBFcrSWGv0kxar6POQMa7D6xI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/83bBFcrSWGv0kxar6POQMa7D6xI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/ZVToWYbWPf8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/12/plan-b.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08CRXgzcSp7ImA9WhRQF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2691956705062705998</id><published>2011-12-13T12:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T12:51:04.689+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T12:51:04.689+08:00</app:edited><title>Seven and a half months</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2691956705062705998/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2691956705062705998&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2691956705062705998?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2691956705062705998?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/zoUFxLkTbtE/seven-and-half-months.html" title="Seven and a half months" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">It started one evening. Seven and a half months ago.

But what started it was 38 years ago when I was a kid and I was in America. When Elton John sang Candle in the Wind for the first time and when Diana was alive and have not met Charles.

38 years ago I started to search something that was not born yet, and was not even an idea. Only was in God's Plan.

How I wondered about the magic of it all,
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uQ-PAY6FM5PEKNnq0KctgiQkP3M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uQ-PAY6FM5PEKNnq0KctgiQkP3M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uQ-PAY6FM5PEKNnq0KctgiQkP3M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uQ-PAY6FM5PEKNnq0KctgiQkP3M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/zoUFxLkTbtE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/12/seven-and-half-months.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAFRHozcCp7ImA9WhRXGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-7768442898656258305</id><published>2011-12-03T23:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T14:35:15.488+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-27T14:35:15.488+08:00</app:edited><title>Sometimes</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/7768442898656258305/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=7768442898656258305&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7768442898656258305?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7768442898656258305?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/hk_9zpKolW4/sometimes.html" title="Sometimes" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Sometimes, you just need to push ahead so that you don't go around in circles.
Sometimes, one person's sense of time is different than another person, maybe due to age differences and experience.
Sometimes, you just need to pour your heart and soul into lots of projects, like write, write and write.
Sometimes, you need to just lose yourself and then find your way back, so you can see things 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_4f9scMcY4KcaU74Ui3AERySgu4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_4f9scMcY4KcaU74Ui3AERySgu4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_4f9scMcY4KcaU74Ui3AERySgu4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_4f9scMcY4KcaU74Ui3AERySgu4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/hk_9zpKolW4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/12/sometimes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AMRXo4fip7ImA9WhdaGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-1086899249495055255</id><published>2011-10-29T10:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T10:36:24.436+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-29T10:36:24.436+08:00</app:edited><title>Because I Love</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/1086899249495055255/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=1086899249495055255&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1086899249495055255?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1086899249495055255?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/TRkMUSXgMgQ/because-i-love.html" title="Because I Love" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Amo Ergo Sum
By Kathleen Raine

Because I love
      The sun pours out its rays of living gold
      Pours out its gold and silver on the sea.

Because I love
      The earth upon her astral spindle winds
      Her ecstasy-producing dance.

Because I love
      Clouds travel on the winds through wide skies,
      Skies wide and beautiful, blue and deep.

Because I love
      Wind blows white 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Blswwhn48742Qg8ccol2W296hws/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Blswwhn48742Qg8ccol2W296hws/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Blswwhn48742Qg8ccol2W296hws/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Blswwhn48742Qg8ccol2W296hws/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/TRkMUSXgMgQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/10/because-i-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcNQns8cSp7ImA9WhdaFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-5442760720427468335</id><published>2011-10-26T22:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T12:01:33.579+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-27T12:01:33.579+08:00</app:edited><title>The Power of Words</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/5442760720427468335/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=5442760720427468335&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5442760720427468335?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5442760720427468335?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/jF5J_UDv-bQ/power-of-words.html" title="The Power of Words" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">What is your religion?
What is your belief?
If you believe in humanity and the good of people, you can make people act.
You can make people change for the better. 

There are people who just accept anything thrown at them as truth, just because it came from a religious authority who could be reading somewhere and pronounce it as word of God, without questioning and proper study and interpretation
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XEhcsoMoZ3aVJcmVd1KZS6cw7Mw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XEhcsoMoZ3aVJcmVd1KZS6cw7Mw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XEhcsoMoZ3aVJcmVd1KZS6cw7Mw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XEhcsoMoZ3aVJcmVd1KZS6cw7Mw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/jF5J_UDv-bQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/10/power-of-words.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MERn0zcSp7ImA9WhdWEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-4393721694620628994</id><published>2011-09-04T17:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T17:43:27.389+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-04T17:43:27.389+08:00</app:edited><title>This blog will change</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/4393721694620628994/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=4393721694620628994&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4393721694620628994?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4393721694620628994?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/STxxpZ1jdME/this-blog-will-change.html" title="This blog will change" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I would like to inform my intention of changing this blog to be a REVIEW blog on matters regarding Film, Cinema, Culture and Context (non architectural). 

The name will change and private contents will be made private viewing only soon.

Anything architectural, please go to here:

CONTEXTURAL DESIGN
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pC7QrfxwL2U3kELR1oGX9hg9eMk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pC7QrfxwL2U3kELR1oGX9hg9eMk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pC7QrfxwL2U3kELR1oGX9hg9eMk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pC7QrfxwL2U3kELR1oGX9hg9eMk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/STxxpZ1jdME" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-blog-will-change.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08NSH88eyp7ImA9WhdQFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-9004347829597098969</id><published>2011-08-16T13:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T13:18:19.173+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-16T13:18:19.173+08:00</app:edited><title>Don't have to listen to preachers all the time...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/9004347829597098969/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=9004347829597098969&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/9004347829597098969?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/9004347829597098969?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/f2mbTB-WtBk/dont-have-to-listen-to-preachers-all.html" title="Don't have to listen to preachers all the time..." /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">You don't have to listen to preachers all the time...because they are like robots. They have to crank up whatever that is inside of them so that they tune out the emotional part of themselves, and then they digest whatever they need to from their religious mentors and their holy books...and then they put a pause button on their emotions and feelings...and then they speak out those robotic words..
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3A_O1VvbMaR4C9JUH-Axr5CMOQw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3A_O1VvbMaR4C9JUH-Axr5CMOQw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3A_O1VvbMaR4C9JUH-Axr5CMOQw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3A_O1VvbMaR4C9JUH-Axr5CMOQw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/f2mbTB-WtBk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/08/dont-have-to-listen-to-preachers-all.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEANRHcyfSp7ImA9WhdRFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2750142844709396078</id><published>2011-08-05T13:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T13:39:55.995+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-05T13:39:55.995+08:00</app:edited><title>My purpose in life</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2750142844709396078/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2750142844709396078&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2750142844709396078?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2750142844709396078?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/5qfPDcAsGM0/my-purpose-in-life.html" title="My purpose in life" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">A goal is a ahead of you. 
It maybe a goal for yourself, or a goal for the team.
You know that you have to put the 'ball in the net'.
To put the 'ball in the net' (using football speak) is to score the goal, in bringing closer to winning the game.
Some matches, you can display your beautiful talent and people will stand around admiring and cheering you on.
Some matches, everything seems to be 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNxUM3yQ9_95TTTvEFWXOVHrSys/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNxUM3yQ9_95TTTvEFWXOVHrSys/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNxUM3yQ9_95TTTvEFWXOVHrSys/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNxUM3yQ9_95TTTvEFWXOVHrSys/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/5qfPDcAsGM0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-purpose-in-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8GQ3c-eSp7ImA9WhdTE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-5442975046735816006</id><published>2011-07-10T22:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T22:40:22.951+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-10T22:40:22.951+08:00</app:edited><title>New Experience</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/5442975046735816006/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=5442975046735816006&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5442975046735816006?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5442975046735816006?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/zRWMGfiPYCQ/new-experience.html" title="New Experience" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I need to start with this new experience.

To be an architect again...

But what is an architect? Was I one in the first place?
And does having a degree make me an architect?

Obviously not.

After so many years as an academic, about 19 years in all, I need to get back into the mode of an architect, at least for 9 months starting September the first.

I am delaying this 'getting into my role' 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zqO9o_l0utBc4UTdnv_SWyOa4is/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zqO9o_l0utBc4UTdnv_SWyOa4is/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zqO9o_l0utBc4UTdnv_SWyOa4is/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zqO9o_l0utBc4UTdnv_SWyOa4is/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/zRWMGfiPYCQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-experience.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEERHY4eip7ImA9WhZbF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2748384000226376815</id><published>2011-06-22T17:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T17:23:25.832+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-22T17:23:25.832+08:00</app:edited><title>Sense of Place</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2748384000226376815/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2748384000226376815&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2748384000226376815?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2748384000226376815?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/JMjI35iPvL0/sense-of-place.html" title="Sense of Place" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Landscape is an idea but place is a sense. 
A landscape is seen; a place is experienced and known.
(Nicholson, Adam; author of Sissinghurst)

I am designing a house and somehow, the sense of place is important to explore and define in the design. Thinking hard on how to do that.

I got a crit just now and got some encouragement, so I am optimistic.

Now, thinking about a sense of place, I am 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mtHXilHEVX4seVfZkAzUHK0ORdU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mtHXilHEVX4seVfZkAzUHK0ORdU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mtHXilHEVX4seVfZkAzUHK0ORdU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mtHXilHEVX4seVfZkAzUHK0ORdU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/JMjI35iPvL0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/06/sense-of-place.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4BSHw8eSp7ImA9WhZUEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-4754921201081879692</id><published>2011-06-03T10:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T10:09:19.271+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-03T10:09:19.271+08:00</app:edited><title>I love my Spirit of Shankly t-shirt</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/4754921201081879692/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=4754921201081879692&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4754921201081879692?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4754921201081879692?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/LhLx37PMFtY/i-love-my-spirit-of-shankly-t-shirt.html" title="I love my Spirit of Shankly t-shirt" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">And guess what?
The Spirit of Shankly branch will be opening in Malaysia.
This is really great news.

LINK

Getting all excited about the 14 &amp;amp; 16 July 2011 events of training session viewing and watching the game... can't wait...arggghhhhhh!
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b6yFD16jr5MZZpVfJeQhmXEurN8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b6yFD16jr5MZZpVfJeQhmXEurN8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b6yFD16jr5MZZpVfJeQhmXEurN8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b6yFD16jr5MZZpVfJeQhmXEurN8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/LhLx37PMFtY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-love-my-spirit-of-shankly-t-shirt.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEFQncycCp7ImA9WhZXFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-1768891600262329016</id><published>2011-05-05T14:16:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T14:23:33.998+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-05T14:23:33.998+08:00</app:edited><title>Walk on II</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/1768891600262329016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=1768891600262329016&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1768891600262329016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1768891600262329016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/mJ01tkeb2hE/walk-on.html" title="Walk on II" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/gwKEdFoUB0o/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">

I love this song. Want to sing it in karaoke...
U2 made this song for Aung San Suu Kyi
It's about an insurmountable struggle that an individual has against oppression and being in captive.

Walk on

And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring...
And love is not the easy thing...
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3pUV25zpj6c8a-6BCjjuOYaShwg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3pUV25zpj6c8a-6BCjjuOYaShwg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3pUV25zpj6c8a-6BCjjuOYaShwg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3pUV25zpj6c8a-6BCjjuOYaShwg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/mJ01tkeb2hE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2009/04/walk-on.html</feedburner:origLink><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="enclosure" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~5/H2Zdbcu31aw/watch" length="0" /><feedburner:origEnclosureLink>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYu57Rwz-Xo</feedburner:origEnclosureLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MESX8_eSp7ImA9WhZXFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-4925509176045348983</id><published>2011-05-04T10:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T10:16:48.141+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-04T10:16:48.141+08:00</app:edited><title>The Day is going to flow into another day</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/4925509176045348983/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=4925509176045348983&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4925509176045348983?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4925509176045348983?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/wLUtIJqtnOU/day-is-going-to-flow-into-another-day.html" title="The Day is going to flow into another day" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">The Day

It is going to flow into another day
I am going to hear footsteps in the bleak corridor
A mosquito is going to fly into my window

I am going to drive my car and go out for lunch
But not today
I brought some bread and a quarter of a pretzel to work

Nowadays I am not that hungry
Something is making me full
My stomach gets tighter
My heart beats as usual, maybe a little faster

The sun 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPKG1XLwrtcR5_9JOlF-zCHeydg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPKG1XLwrtcR5_9JOlF-zCHeydg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPKG1XLwrtcR5_9JOlF-zCHeydg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPKG1XLwrtcR5_9JOlF-zCHeydg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/wLUtIJqtnOU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-is-going-to-flow-into-another-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4MRHg6cCp7ImA9WhZQF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-5192923403207619497</id><published>2011-04-25T11:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T11:59:45.618+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-25T11:59:45.618+08:00</app:edited><title>The Song of The Reed</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/5192923403207619497/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=5192923403207619497&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5192923403207619497?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/5192923403207619497?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/B_JvF_Qhufs/song-of-reed.html" title="The Song of The Reed" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I really enjoyed Rumi poems and in particular 'The Song of the Reed'.

Other translations from this website.

5. Rhymed (Abbreviated) Translation by Nicholson, 1950

THE SONG OF THE REED

1. Hearken to this Reed forlorn,

2. Breathing, even since 'twas torn

2. From its rushy bed, a strain

3. Of impassioned love and pain.

7. "The secret of my song, though near,
7. None can see and none can hear
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OUnrj-5syJZqnTeznrtrPsi05s/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OUnrj-5syJZqnTeznrtrPsi05s/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OUnrj-5syJZqnTeznrtrPsi05s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1OUnrj-5syJZqnTeznrtrPsi05s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/B_JvF_Qhufs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/song-of-reed.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIDSH46cCp7ImA9WhZQEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-7146891570702528954</id><published>2011-04-18T13:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T14:02:59.018+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-18T14:02:59.018+08:00</app:edited><title>We are all in this together</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/7146891570702528954/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=7146891570702528954&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7146891570702528954?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7146891570702528954?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/MfyZj7YuOIk/we-are-all-in-this-together.html" title="We are all in this together" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/4q_AHAMVQ9c/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">What is a partnership? Is it right to let the other suffer?

A partnership happens when you let in someone else as collaborator to your scheme.

I think this U2 song is about that. About making it in the end. There is a beginning and an end and endless cycle in between...of discovering and learning again and again.




U2's "I'll go crazy if I don't go crazy tonight"

She's a rainbow and she 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AL0-vdfK_iD7ECE9ipporpyMevI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AL0-vdfK_iD7ECE9ipporpyMevI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AL0-vdfK_iD7ECE9ipporpyMevI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AL0-vdfK_iD7ECE9ipporpyMevI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/MfyZj7YuOIk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/we-are-all-in-this-together.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkABQHc4fCp7ImA9WhZQEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-7644101525193274496</id><published>2011-04-17T20:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T20:52:31.934+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-17T20:52:31.934+08:00</app:edited><title>If you do not feel right about something, what do you do?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/7644101525193274496/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=7644101525193274496&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7644101525193274496?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7644101525193274496?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/NLyzVam9JjY/if-you-do-not-feel-right-about.html" title="If you do not feel right about something, what do you do?" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am not proud of many things I do, but one thing I know, I never follow other people if its not right or if it does not feel right.

I have always had to fight and stand up for something I believe in.

In education, you see many injustice and in any endeavour for the good you need to make others around you focus on the task ahead.

If you feel something not right, you must correct it or try to 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GvB1_xf0OBkaU7YqzE8DquTOYZI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GvB1_xf0OBkaU7YqzE8DquTOYZI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GvB1_xf0OBkaU7YqzE8DquTOYZI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GvB1_xf0OBkaU7YqzE8DquTOYZI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/NLyzVam9JjY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/if-you-do-not-feel-right-about.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYGRnk4cCp7ImA9WhZQEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-7152102272296382247</id><published>2011-04-17T19:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T19:35:27.738+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-17T19:35:27.738+08:00</app:edited><title>Rafael</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/7152102272296382247/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=7152102272296382247&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7152102272296382247?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/7152102272296382247?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/wEyNNV15q0c/rafael.html" title="Rafael" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/aXge4Ar_Dyw/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Rafa Benitez is my mentor. If people have been following my blog and even in my other blog, I have referred to him often. I miss him so much as the manager of Liverpool Football Club. Not that I do not appreciate Kenny Daglish, but Rafa, he has to come back. When he left the club, my heart broke. Many of us pray he takes over from Kenny Daglish after he retires.

Here is a latest video from the 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y_BEW5wcjqwSfrI9CGTFBwX1jqg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y_BEW5wcjqwSfrI9CGTFBwX1jqg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y_BEW5wcjqwSfrI9CGTFBwX1jqg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y_BEW5wcjqwSfrI9CGTFBwX1jqg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/wEyNNV15q0c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/rafael.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MRnc5fSp7ImA9WhZRGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-325356125008006527</id><published>2011-04-16T12:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T12:59:47.925+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-16T12:59:47.925+08:00</app:edited><title>Blessings from my mother</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/325356125008006527/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=325356125008006527&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/325356125008006527?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/325356125008006527?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/b_DGaTCivX8/blessings-from-my-mother.html" title="Blessings from my mother" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">It is so important to talk to my mother and get her blessings. Hard decisions have to be made, but when your mother understood why you have to do certain things than it is much easier. Somehow the bond you have with your parent, be it your mother or father is a strong 'glue' that is somewhat pliable and breathing. You need that breathable aspects where you find spaces in between the holes and 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0zUYQQOrRuS71A6hYNKzLM9VD_Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0zUYQQOrRuS71A6hYNKzLM9VD_Y/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0zUYQQOrRuS71A6hYNKzLM9VD_Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0zUYQQOrRuS71A6hYNKzLM9VD_Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/b_DGaTCivX8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/blessings-from-my-mother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcAR387eSp7ImA9WhZRGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2737519686239933081</id><published>2011-04-16T10:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T10:47:26.101+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-16T10:47:26.101+08:00</app:edited><title>A difficult decision which could be easier</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2737519686239933081/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2737519686239933081&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2737519686239933081?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2737519686239933081?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/qiA4fLHeHKI/difficult-decision-which-could-be.html" title="A difficult decision which could be easier" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am experiencing a difficult decision about my future. One would ask, at my age, I have done a lot of things. What more do I want to do?

I am sure there are people out there who has or is experiencing the same thing. Things get boring and same old, same old. You start doing stupid things, so that is the evidence of someone 'bored' or even frustrated.

Actually I have proven to turn a non 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/P4LETW1lnMAMyyCZedVGjEKjRvA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/P4LETW1lnMAMyyCZedVGjEKjRvA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/P4LETW1lnMAMyyCZedVGjEKjRvA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/P4LETW1lnMAMyyCZedVGjEKjRvA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/qiA4fLHeHKI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/difficult-decision-which-could-be.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8NQn48fip7ImA9WhZREUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2139752419811213895</id><published>2011-04-07T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T19:14:53.076+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-07T19:14:53.076+08:00</app:edited><title>Something got me last night</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2139752419811213895/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2139752419811213895&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2139752419811213895?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2139752419811213895?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/ygfWZ1_lNlQ/something-got-me-last-night.html" title="Something got me last night" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">I just posted on my facebook status that: Its no use faking it, it's between you and God.

Then I commented: 
yup, suddenly it dawned on me that we interact with humans, but the thing is not between that person and I, but between God and I...whatever outcomes, whatever product...it's all about you and God. It's an incredible powerful thought. 
The reason why I said that was it occurred to me that
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZD6bg_h08XBmX1mVTaAXSsAiSgc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZD6bg_h08XBmX1mVTaAXSsAiSgc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZD6bg_h08XBmX1mVTaAXSsAiSgc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZD6bg_h08XBmX1mVTaAXSsAiSgc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/ygfWZ1_lNlQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/04/something-got-me-last-night.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYFSHs4eSp7ImA9Wx9UFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2259582927306935935</id><published>2011-02-12T21:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T22:15:19.531+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-12T22:15:19.531+08:00</app:edited><title>Whatever we imagine</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2259582927306935935/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2259582927306935935&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2259582927306935935?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2259582927306935935?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/wZYb68TFHBQ/whatever-we-imagine.html" title="Whatever we imagine" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">The power that holds within us is given to us to do what is right. This power can let us do whatever we imagine.
I was at a restaurant just now and I watched the people around me. They seems to be frail, weak and vulnerable. I saw them like organisms or mammals, easily broken or wounded. When I looked at them, I am like them. I am them. We are one. All easily gone in a second if a disaster 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KFn0Zzhk4Heu9KL_uhCyYmFwLlE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KFn0Zzhk4Heu9KL_uhCyYmFwLlE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KFn0Zzhk4Heu9KL_uhCyYmFwLlE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KFn0Zzhk4Heu9KL_uhCyYmFwLlE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/wZYb68TFHBQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/02/whatever-we-imagine.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANQX4yfyp7ImA9Wx9VEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-2342829197704097234</id><published>2011-01-26T18:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T18:46:30.097+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-26T18:46:30.097+08:00</app:edited><title>The Original</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/2342829197704097234/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=2342829197704097234&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2342829197704097234?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/2342829197704097234?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/1swknuPvCjU/original.html" title="The Original" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am the original, not a duplicate and not produced from a copy-machine. I was not derived from a template, and certainly not made by humans. If you wish to process me, to become like others, you will be disappointed. Because I was made to be an original and cannot be cloned.

When people say that if we want to influence someone, we have to do that in an early age, I do not subscribe to that 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1XkGwmWzUtPwoiGzsBvLcZvFNg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1XkGwmWzUtPwoiGzsBvLcZvFNg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1XkGwmWzUtPwoiGzsBvLcZvFNg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1XkGwmWzUtPwoiGzsBvLcZvFNg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/1swknuPvCjU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/01/original.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08HR3Y7fyp7ImA9Wx9WFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-1471254932394306758</id><published>2011-01-20T19:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T19:10:36.807+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-20T19:10:36.807+08:00</app:edited><title>Sitting in my driver's seat</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/1471254932394306758/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=1471254932394306758&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1471254932394306758?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/1471254932394306758?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/LDcd2AEqBT4/sitting-in-my-drivers-seat.html" title="Sitting in my driver's seat" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">Coasting down the highway of your life, you may observe how the season's changed. Brown leaves dropping listlessly and graphic trees casting winter's shadows leaving you yearning for the youthful summer's sun to bend things around. Turning down the road, you see something beautiful and original and you want to have it for yourself. So you stopped and admire its beauty and how it engulfs you by 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zu4Jj7GdhQKzW3l-5vojfm4-7uE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zu4Jj7GdhQKzW3l-5vojfm4-7uE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zu4Jj7GdhQKzW3l-5vojfm4-7uE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Zu4Jj7GdhQKzW3l-5vojfm4-7uE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/LDcd2AEqBT4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/01/sitting-in-my-drivers-seat.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMNRXo5eip7ImA9Wx9WFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-4661173632989601235</id><published>2011-01-19T11:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T11:41:34.422+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-19T11:41:34.422+08:00</app:edited><title>UM need to prioritise</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/4661173632989601235/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=4661173632989601235&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4661173632989601235?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/4661173632989601235?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/fRhyXo8s1Fc/um-need-to-prioritise.html" title="UM need to prioritise" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">A great lesson that I learned this week (and its barely Wednesday) is that Universiti Malaya have to prioritise its people and not just interested in covering its "arse".

UM here means people working in management. People want to criticise me, fine, for bailing out from being Head of Department, whatever...but at the end of the day, you need to be in tune with the staff's problems.

Of course, 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8ygQ-GLb-EWWpMgpvWF-LKDeeDY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8ygQ-GLb-EWWpMgpvWF-LKDeeDY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8ygQ-GLb-EWWpMgpvWF-LKDeeDY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8ygQ-GLb-EWWpMgpvWF-LKDeeDY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/fRhyXo8s1Fc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/01/um-need-to-prioritise.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYDQHY4cSp7ImA9Wx9WE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312405.post-674141858328924460</id><published>2011-01-18T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T19:29:31.839+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-18T19:29:31.839+08:00</app:edited><title>Decent people</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://naziaty.blogspot.com/feeds/674141858328924460/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6312405&amp;postID=674141858328924460&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/674141858328924460?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6312405/posts/default/674141858328924460?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BornInBentong/~3/rgMjXphQx4c/decent-people.html" title="Decent people" /><author><name>Naziaty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11736853307217383701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">In life, you sometimes meet decent people. People who are sensitive and take great pains to feel for you. I wonder if I am a decent person. I try to be one.

The thing is I am beginning to be very selective about caring for people. I want to only care about people who are decent. I use to think that someone could change and I still do, but I may not have the time to thik about these people. I 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/osON4vEj_XQ3lpH2NCKaztj0syk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/osON4vEj_XQ3lpH2NCKaztj0syk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BornInBentong/~4/rgMjXphQx4c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://naziaty.blogspot.com/2011/01/decent-people.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

