<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:53:26.337-08:00</updated><category term='sucky emotions'/><category term='best things life'/><category term='mistakes forgivesness'/><category term='Sex life love'/><category term='Scary'/><category term='Feelings'/><category term='Angel'/><category term='love'/><category term='death leaving'/><category term='drugs'/><title type='text'>Beggining to an end</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-3472818256914870770</id><published>2010-04-04T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T11:34:26.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely Roads</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jYK8mwb1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/Bbn26h-5H3U/s1600/2680052102_8f86491057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; 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	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;I am stuck at a point, I can't see where I came from neither where I am supposed to go. I want to beg for your help but I can't tell you that I need you. I don't wish to be a needy woman therefore I let you go on, but I die a little inside every time I let you go. We are slipping so far away and I don’t know why I feel the way I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jYXZLDgEI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IbpqCIp9Czg/s1600/need_you_sexy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jYXZLDgEI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IbpqCIp9Czg/s320/need_you_sexy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456348844965199938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;I love you loads but how can I show it to you? How can I let you know that you mean the most in my life? I don’t know. I have never been this attached to anyone or anything in my whole life. I need to let you know I can’t be without you before you say good bye forever. Somehow I can’t put my thoughts into action. I will love you no matter what. You have been my star in the dark. We don’t always get along but I wish for us to be a life where we will be together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jY1E_fQfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/TeS77p-2O5E/s1600/0002.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 258px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jY1E_fQfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/TeS77p-2O5E/s320/0002.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456349354944053746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;                    You have been so much to me but I don’t deserve to be happy. I know that because I haven’t been to others. The only thing I have been is mean. I can’t care about people not that I don’t want to but only because I am never quite sure how to. In a few days you’d probably be gone to never return. I want to tell you that I do want to fix this, that I don’t want you gone, that I cannot continue this bleak existence without you but it would scare you away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jaORNFNaI/AAAAAAAAAEc/7-APNSjRfu8/s1600/iNeedYouBWEmo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jaORNFNaI/AAAAAAAAAEc/7-APNSjRfu8/s320/iNeedYouBWEmo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456350887230649762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jZ67Aj-NI/AAAAAAAAAEU/K0GNa0Phme0/s1600/81d30509eec88e000079.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 165px; height: 105px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jZ67Aj-NI/AAAAAAAAAEU/K0GNa0Phme0/s320/81d30509eec88e000079.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456350554855045330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;You should look away and continue your life; your life will always be worth more than mine. Everyone’s life is more than mine. The only reason I continue to breathe every day is for you and because of you. You can’t teach me to crawl but I can imagine I can learn to fly some day. My head isn’t going right or left. It’s stuck in one place looking at memoirs of what I have been. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jacEJmwVI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Vd4BIpPquEY/s1600/n8.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jacEJmwVI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Vd4BIpPquEY/s320/n8.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456351124244578642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;“You’ll never be loved”... “You are better off dead” that’s what my life has been until you came. You awakened the child in me. I don’t want you to go because I am selfish. I don’t want you gone because you are the part of me that I need but lately I’ve realized that you deserve someone better than me, someone who’d love you and care for you like you deserve unlike what I do. This has been the most painful thing that I’ve written because I realize the truth now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jawhvs5II/AAAAAAAAAEs/kgWClMYDJNw/s1600/f_e394399b8ba6.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 145px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jawhvs5II/AAAAAAAAAEs/kgWClMYDJNw/s320/f_e394399b8ba6.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456351475786376322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shape id="Picture_x0020_25" spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:225.75pt;"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Jummi\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image009.gif" title="f_e394399b8ba6"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-3472818256914870770?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/3472818256914870770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=3472818256914870770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/3472818256914870770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/3472818256914870770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2010/04/lonely-roads.html' title='Lonely Roads'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/S7jYK8mwb1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/Bbn26h-5H3U/s72-c/2680052102_8f86491057.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-4340943713290663444</id><published>2008-09-29T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T06:45:49.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crimson Eyes</title><content type='html'>        I was siting all alone on the bench. Angry gray clouds were forming over my head. People were running in both directions. I felt alone in this huge crowd. I don’t have a clear memory when this began this feeling inside of me growing and getting stronger like a virus. This feeling of seclusion&lt;br /&gt;	This place was where I come for my peace of mind and take a break from daily routines. I observe people consumed in their own worlds, smiling and laughing. Sometimes my blank mind wonders whether those smiles are real. Other times I wonder even if it is real, how long will it last?&lt;br /&gt;	I wasn’t always like this. I can remember though hazy, that sometimes I used to smile. I use to think this world was bright and colorful. But now it’s just black and white with shades of gray. I used to love my life, hang out and have fun with friends but all those are nothing but memories down the river of time.&lt;br /&gt;	Everyday it gets a little harder to get out bed, a bit harder to get myself ready. But I’m used to painting a smile over my lips. I would like to have friends, go out to movies and dates. I would also like people to ask for my number and get invited to parties. But they will always remain as a colorless dream.&lt;br /&gt;	Sometimes I lie on my bed and wonder if this is a nightmare. Then I pinch myself to get out of it. Yet somehow I never wake up. That is why each and every night I get completely deranged. It feels like I’m stuck in a reality where rotting in the never ending abyss is not even scary.&lt;br /&gt;	Some people would define me as a maniac but then again I stopped caring about what people say years ago. No one considers me of their own kind. I wish to meet the unwanted like me. But that is when the wind of realization punches me in my guts and knocks the air out of me.&lt;br /&gt;	My head filled with empty thoughts. My heart numbed by this loneliness I face each day. I was stoical from the day I was born. But sometimes this pain is a little more unbearable. I always minded my own business, being happy loving people and caring for others was mainly why I lived. Then to realize it was all just a waste of time. Any person would break down…why should I be an exception?   &lt;br /&gt;	I remember feeling the wind in my hair. I remember feeling the rain on my skin. I remember happiness and somehow I recall what it felt like to smile.&lt;br /&gt; 	Every so often I sat on my window pane and saw the innocent bright eyed children playing bringing back shadows of past when I was just like them,  how sweet was it to play for long tiring hours and come back home where my mother was waiting for me with milk and cookies.  And when I fall down and scrape my knee she would put medicine. Now, I don’t have a person to call my own let alone a home.&lt;br /&gt;	I remember sitting around with flowers and looking at the cute neighbor, and hiding behind the fence where we shared our first kiss only to find him gone two days later. I can still see the day after years of waiting I finally graduated from college with my degree only to wander aimlessly around disregarding any comments from anyone telling me that I was hell-bent on wasting my life. Day after day, coming home late and making my mother worried. Then I remember the day I went for a picnic and came back to find my mother in eternal rest lying on the bathroom floor.&lt;br /&gt;	I remember the day when I decided to sell everything and move somewhere, where her reminiscences would not haunt me. The tapes unreeled before me showing me the day when I met the new home owners and sold them everything while I packed and moved to New York. I remember getting a job as a lawyer and a partner of the firm.&lt;br /&gt;	I remember working vigorously for hours and finally hitting rock bottom one day. I remember going into the bathtub and playing Tic Tac Toe with razorblades on my wrist. I watched mesmerized as the blood flew steadily ticking the seconds away on my life. And I remember gladly going under just to be discovered by the house maid landing me in hospital and then mental asylum.&lt;br /&gt;	 Now I am lying on my bed again, staring at the blank cream colored ceiling up above, wondering how if feels like to be dead. But no matter how hard I try I am still trapped in my nightmare sewn up into reality. This is the pain you feel when every exhaled breath feels like a silent scream.&lt;br /&gt;	Sometimes I wonder if she was alive, whether I would not have gone insane. And then I start to think it was good for her. She didn’t have to witness as much as suffering and hurt of the cruel world as I did. Maybe it was good for me too. Even I can boast that I have been through hell and back to anyone who would listen.&lt;br /&gt;	Now thirty years passed down the sands on time in my life but there has always been the fact in my heart that though how easy I have always given up and ended up a looser. Now I’m not going to give up and end up in inferno for eternity.&lt;br /&gt;	Everything in my life that happened made me stronger, apathetic I agree, but definitely stronger than anyone. It made my skin thicker and made me learn faster. I can’t give up again because I am a fighter. After all even if it is the same old sun, it is a bright, beautiful new day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-4340943713290663444?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/4340943713290663444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=4340943713290663444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4340943713290663444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4340943713290663444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2008/09/crimson-eyes.html' title='Crimson Eyes'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-1862346699183727813</id><published>2008-09-29T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T14:39:07.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to spot a liar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Quite often a person feels the need to lie about something - if you are the person being lied to, there are a few simple tips for catching the liar out. This is a list of the top 15 tips.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt; Physical expression will be limited and stiff, with few arm and hand movements. Hand, arm and leg movements are toward their own body as the liar tries to take up less space.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; A person who is lying to you will avoid making eye contact.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="more-5179"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; Hands touching their face, throat &amp;amp; mouth. Touching or scratching the nose or behind their ear. Not likely to touch his chest/heart with an open hand.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; Timing is off between emotions gestures/expressions and words. Example: Someone says, “I love it!” when receiving a gift and then smiles after making that statement, rather then at the same time the statement is made.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; Gestures/expressions don’t match the verbal statement, such as frowning when saying “I love you.”6.&lt;/strong&gt; Expressions are limited to mouth movements when someone is faking emotions (like happy, surprised, sad, awe, ) instead of the whole face. For example; when someone smiles naturally their whole face is involved: jaw/cheek movement, eyes and forehead push down, etc.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.&lt;/strong&gt; A guilty person gets defensive. An innocent person will often go on the offensive.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.&lt;/strong&gt; A liar is uncomfortable facing his questioner/accuser and may turn his head or body away.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="font-size: 80%; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="wiki"&gt;Just paying the bills…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.&lt;/strong&gt; A liar might unconsciously place objects (book, coffee cup, etc.) between themselves and you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.&lt;/strong&gt; A liar will use your words to make answer a question. When asked, “Did you eat the last cookie?” The liar answers, “No, I did not eat the last cookie.” alt="Liar Liar" vspace="4" width="219" border="1" height="209" hspace="4" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11.&lt;/strong&gt; A statement with a contraction is more likely to be truthful: “ I didn’t do it” instead of “I did not do it”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12.&lt;/strong&gt; Liars sometimes avoid “lying” by not making direct statements. They imply answers instead of denying something directly.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13.&lt;/strong&gt; The guilty person may speak more than natural, adding unnecessary details to convince you… they are not comfortable with silence or pauses in the conversation.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14.&lt;/strong&gt; A liar may leave out pronouns and speak in a monotonous tone. When a truthful statement is made the pronoun is emphasized as much or more than the rest of the words in a statement.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;strong&gt;15.&lt;/strong&gt; Words may be garbled and spoken softly, and syntax and grammar may be off. In other-words, his sentences will likely be muddled rather than emphasized&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-1862346699183727813?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/1862346699183727813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=1862346699183727813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/1862346699183727813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/1862346699183727813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-to-spot-liar.html' title='How to spot a liar!'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-2419792999971689218</id><published>2008-08-10T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T10:22:28.146-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death leaving'/><title type='text'>Leaving...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;       Ever heard the quote&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;“&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/traveling_is_not_just_seeing_the_new-it_is_also/324251.html"&gt;Traveling is not just seeing the new; it is also &lt;b&gt;leaving&lt;/b&gt; behind. Not just opening doors; also closing them behind you, never to return. But the place you have left forever is always there for you to see whenever you shut your eyes.&lt;/a&gt;”&lt;br /&gt;     They always say that they will be back...rarely a case when they are except for terminator..and might i remind you that its full of crap like any other damn movie where they say they will be back!Well kiss my ass if you..cuz i know u ain't coming back. But that's okay. Cuz we will meet soon enough. If u don't come back I will go after you..cuz thats what we always do...we follow the people we love..Cuz we dont wanna be left alone when they go into the darkness..&lt;br /&gt;     There's a beautiful song into the dark-death cab for the cutie. Its a song that deals with people leaving but on a higher level that i have ever heard before.Mainly one of the reasons why i dig it. And also lets not leave out the fact that its acoustic and the video is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Love of mine some day you will die&lt;br /&gt;But I'll be close behind&lt;br /&gt;I'll follow you into the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt; In this song lyrics the guy is saying that even if u go i'd still follow u into the dark.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;      Beautiful song great lyrics but i wonder if actually anyone wud follow me into the dark...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white&lt;br /&gt;Just our hands clasped so tight&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the hint of a spark&lt;br /&gt;If heaven and hell decide&lt;br /&gt;That they both are satisfied&lt;br /&gt;Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs&lt;br /&gt;If there's no one beside you&lt;br /&gt;When your soul embarks&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll follow you into the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now, I'll let u be the judge of what a love like that is about.A love so tight u cant let go..so willingly u would follow them into the death pit..&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful and short life seems.. When u haven't got our love besides u life seems dull and long..so why live people might ask...cuz when u live u know that there's hope for u to meet someday....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-2419792999971689218?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/2419792999971689218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=2419792999971689218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/2419792999971689218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/2419792999971689218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2008/08/leaving.html' title='Leaving...'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-4459220556474679336</id><published>2008-04-10T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T05:12:37.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>REMINISCE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;We always reminise over the time gone by. Instead of the bad times in past and letting it be people thinking about that so much it destroys them and the future with present.Everyones the bad times to change in their life.The bad things in past,they want to change it.But not a lot stops and thinks that if it was all good, the future and present might be so worse than the past you never wanted in the first place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;PAST IS HISTORY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;TOMORROW IS A MYSTERY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;TODAY IS A GIFT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;THAT'S WHY IT'S A GIFT"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Don't forget to take your experiences from the past but never ponder over it.Cause if your history was different you probably wouldn't be where you are today-&gt; that aside you would't be who you are today.So don't be afraid ,DOnt be sad.Psych yourself for tomorow and enjoy the present .What the hell!.....ENJOY LIFE CAUSE ITS A ONCE IN A LIFE TIME EXPERIENCE!!!!!!!....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-4459220556474679336?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/4459220556474679336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=4459220556474679336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4459220556474679336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4459220556474679336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2008/04/reminisce.html' title='REMINISCE'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-1250237908144161704</id><published>2007-12-29T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T22:50:49.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Heart full of hatred.I have been hurted like hell but I have always smiled no matter what and tried to just be cool.But never forgot the things that lie inside still that never stops the hurt so ............yamin....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-1250237908144161704?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/1250237908144161704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=1250237908144161704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/1250237908144161704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/1250237908144161704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/heart-full-of-hatred.html' title=''/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-3737326899993846970</id><published>2007-12-08T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T22:08:10.400-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><title type='text'>Voice beyond the shadows.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Cycle of Addiction&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;No one intends to become a drug addict or alcoholic. Our experiences show that the drug addict or alcoholic was usually an intelligent and often creative person with much hope for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uAPJRlhPI/AAAAAAAAABA/dG17STy2vgM/s1600-h/image006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141844397249627378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uAPJRlhPI/AAAAAAAAABA/dG17STy2vgM/s320/image006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, they were unable to deal effectively with life’s problems and turned to drugs or alcohol as a means of dealing with unwanted situationsThe person usually takes drugs because they attempt to compensate for some personal deficiency or life situation. They may be depressed, in pain or incapable of dealing with a loss of a loved one or extreme circumstance. It could also be as simple as a need to fit in and make friends, or a way to lose weight. Regardless of the reason, the person begins to seek "help" in the form of drugs or alcohol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uAn5RlhQI/AAAAAAAAABI/FdVmm5tJ1as/s1600-h/image008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141844822451389698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uAn5RlhQI/AAAAAAAAABI/FdVmm5tJ1as/s320/image008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drugs are essentially a pain-killer. They lessen emotional and physical pain and provide the user with a temporary escape from problems. When a person is unable to cope with something in life and take drugs as a result, they feel they have found a way to deal with the problem.They are now addicted. They become difficult to communicate with, withdrawn and begin to exhibit the strange behavior associated with being on drugs. The more the person uses to try to counter this effect, the more desperate he becomes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uBV5RlhRI/AAAAAAAAABQ/SNcdRObSbwE/s1600-h/image024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141845612725372178" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uBV5RlhRI/AAAAAAAAABQ/SNcdRObSbwE/s320/image024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their use begins to affect their personal relationships, their job, their bank account, and anything of previous value to the addict. Now the person's entire focus becomes centered on using drugs and getting more drugs, regardless of the cost. They sacrifice everything to avoid the pain of withdrawal, the guilt of what they have done and the problems they have been running from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uEf5RlhSI/AAAAAAAAABY/LGXDrYgvy9g/s1600-h/image036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141849083058947362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uEf5RlhSI/AAAAAAAAABY/LGXDrYgvy9g/s320/image036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;At this point, the average drug user does one of three things:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Continues using drugs and becomes more and more lost, unhealthy and degraded until he eventually becomes &lt;strong&gt;homeless&lt;/strong&gt; or &lt;strong&gt;dead&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Gets &lt;strong&gt;arrested&lt;/strong&gt; for some drug-related activity and goes to&lt;strong&gt; jail&lt;/strong&gt; or&lt;strong&gt; prison&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Attempt to &lt;strong&gt;quit&lt;/strong&gt; drugs in any one of a variety of ways. He may try to stop on his own, or go to a drug addiction treatment center or program. Sadly, the success rate of traditional treatment is not high and most addicts continue to relapse. This destroys the addict’s confidence and leads him to feel he will remain a slave to drugs forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;All you can do is give them home and make them trust themselves and help them to overcome this addiction with ur support and love.Don't isolate them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-3737326899993846970?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/3737326899993846970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=3737326899993846970' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/3737326899993846970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/3737326899993846970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/voice-beyond-shadows.html' title='Voice beyond the shadows.'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1uAPJRlhPI/AAAAAAAAABA/dG17STy2vgM/s72-c/image006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-7192073777412542809</id><published>2007-12-08T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T21:34:59.662-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Angel'/><title type='text'>angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1t7mJRlhOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KZnLRD7JaCI/s1600-h/goth10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141839294828479714" style="WIDTH: 389px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 492px" height="320" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1t7mJRlhOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KZnLRD7JaCI/s320/goth10.jpg" width="538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-7192073777412542809?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/7192073777412542809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=7192073777412542809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/7192073777412542809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/7192073777412542809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/angel.html' title='angel'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1t7mJRlhOI/AAAAAAAAAA4/KZnLRD7JaCI/s72-c/goth10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-4631736447233006607</id><published>2007-12-05T23:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T00:01:16.796-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scary'/><title type='text'>Socially un-acceptable?</title><content type='html'>I was a creature of disgust and hatred.I could never love anyone.Thought of my onwself always .No one else.Gained unbelivalbe pwer over people and used them for my own benfit.But somehow I was always missing something and that was friendship of the highset rate. I never got it. People either became my friend to get stuff outta me or make someone do something or scare someone. I was always used in relations, In my family and by my friends. I decided to be a one woman army and didnt accept help from others just for the fact that I hated being amongst creatures of my own kind&lt;br /&gt;  Then I met Jille.She was a devil in disguise and just my kind.We were hybrid demons. We hung out almost always and suddenly everyone else was withdrawing from me. I used to feed off their energy and their fright.But they were full of so much fear that they just went away.Of course Jille was much more cold hearted than that to know what fear was.&lt;br /&gt;  Days grew shorter and nights grew longer.Time started slipping away and I was falling down fast into the well of nothingness.I felt empty and hollow.I didnt feel my heart beat for 5 years until Jille decided to move to another country and she was caught in a train accident which nearly cost her , her life but now she is barely living.Everyday she is tormented and tortured with a new kind of pill.The hospitial people treat her as if she is an experiment.&lt;br /&gt;  I write this because she is a mime and cannot speak in a language that all understands.But I can. I am writing this cause she can't.I am talking on behalf of her because she can't.You see right after the accident her boyfriend who was going to marry her left her saying that she is a paralysed person and that he doesn't love her anymore.An he called her a deforemed b*tch.But is it ok to call whoever u want whatever Just because we hybrids are much more advanded than u mentally does not mean we should not be socially unaccepted.Just because u fear us doesn't mean that we won't hurt you mortal human being. We will and soon the army of hybrids like myself and jille will rise and punish you immoral homo sapien sapiens.&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;By:-Jummi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-4631736447233006607?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/4631736447233006607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=4631736447233006607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4631736447233006607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4631736447233006607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/socially-un-acceptable.html' title='Socially un-acceptable?'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-8406528730265979103</id><published>2007-12-05T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T21:07:12.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Land of the pure?</title><content type='html'>I have seen a lot of things in life.But one thing is a land where it is drug free.I lot of people usually tell me that Maldives is goin to hell and it sucks here but I really wonder if that is the case? I mean I really do know that we have a lot of drug addicts in Maldives but it's the people who are not addicted who are respondible for it.What I am trying to say is that Maldvies is full of so-called Muslims.But most of our parents teach us only and how to pray.THey don't bother showing us the importance of Having faith in allah neither they promote our religion much.&lt;br /&gt; I think that some of our parents and society is ashamed that we are muslims and so trying to hide that fact with making a lot of us wear western clothes and all.It just goes to show that WE as Muslims and Non-addicts arent doing our part to save the population of Maldives.-&gt;MUSLIMS SHOULDN'T NOT USE SUBSTANCES LIKE ALCOHOL AND ALIKE&lt;br /&gt; 5 years ago in Maldives there was only 6 people with aids and all were aged between 24- 30.But right now there are more than 600 girls and boys altogether in Mal'e alone between the age 12-18.Althought the media tells everyone that Maldivians are 100% percent muslims Im not so sure abt it.-&gt;MUSLIMS SHOULD NOT HAVE PRE-MARITIAL SEX.&lt;br /&gt; Not too long ago there was this incident of ishaaru (Choaty of kudahenveiru) being murdered.Let me tell you innocent people of Maldives and Government-&gt;MUSLIMS DON'T KILL OTHER MUSLIMS. &lt;br /&gt; Is this the Maldivian dream we always saw. Our beautiful land turning into evil? Wake-up youth of Maldives.The time is now more than ever to take the lead and make the nation once again great just like how it was before:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-8406528730265979103?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/8406528730265979103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=8406528730265979103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/8406528730265979103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/8406528730265979103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/land-of-pure.html' title='Land of the pure?'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-143761248164530888</id><published>2007-12-05T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T06:27:51.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My broken wings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1a1KpRlhNI/AAAAAAAAAAw/g07MLkdlbxk/s1600-h/demon06sn9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140495219172934866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1a1KpRlhNI/AAAAAAAAAAw/g07MLkdlbxk/s320/demon06sn9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I know this will not remain forever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;However it's beautiful &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Your eyes, hands and you warm smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;They're my treasure &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;It's hard to forget &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I wish there was a solution &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Don't spend your time in confusion &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I will turn back now and spread &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings still strong enough to cross the ocean with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;How far should I go drifting in the wind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Higher and higher in the light &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings still strong enough to cross the ocean with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;How far should I go drifting in the wind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Across the sky, just keep on flying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Did I ever chain you down to my heart '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Cause I was never afraid of you ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;No,I couldn't hold you any longer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Love is not a toy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Let go of me now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The time we spend is perpetual &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Our future is not real &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I'll leap into the air &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings still strong enough to cross the ocean with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;How far should I go drifting in the wind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Higher and higher in the light &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings still strong enough to cross the ocean with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My broken wings &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;How far should I go drifting in the wind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Across the sky, just keep on flying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sora kara ochitekuru no wa are wa ame de wa nakute&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-143761248164530888?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/143761248164530888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=143761248164530888' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/143761248164530888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/143761248164530888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-broken-wings.html' title='My broken wings'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1a1KpRlhNI/AAAAAAAAAAw/g07MLkdlbxk/s72-c/demon06sn9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-6525912202350080217</id><published>2007-12-04T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T08:16:51.928-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sucky emotions'/><title type='text'>Purely skin deep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1V83ZRlhMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Qun5543c7dg/s1600-h/vampires1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140151840832586946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 292px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 348px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="320" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1V83ZRlhMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Qun5543c7dg/s320/vampires1.jpg" width="246" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A thing of joy is a beauty forever,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's loveliness increase,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It will never pass into nothingness.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beauty is truth's smile.............-&gt; KEATS&lt;-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Well a thing of beauty is a joy forever.This doesn't mean outside beauty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Beauty is a short-lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The outter beauty fades away with time but the soul,spirit and the greatness of oneself has no affect whatsoever from time.But somepeople doesnt realize that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I was and isolated kid growing up haunted by my own fears of not being able to be great or perfect or cool. I looked up to my elders and I saw that they were important great and lovable-&gt; everything I was not.Im my mind I was led to beleive that whatever I did it will never be enough for anyone and that thought scared me to my last intact nerves. But I lived my life as if nothing was wrong.Acted as if I was a fun person I was a pretender for most of my life.Then i met a guy &lt;dreamboy&gt;and he made me feel like my own person .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I learnt to accept myself.Thought I might be so chubby and ugly and all he gave me a chance and showed me my inner beauty.And then I wasnt scared.I figured out I 'd rather be the girl who loves herself and is satisfied with everything allah gave to me. I m thankful that I have a bed to sleep in and food to eat and a family that watches out for me.Of course that guy is no longer arnd but allah is with me till the end of time and by bringin me to life he showed me that yes..I am special to him no matter even If I ain't special to anyone else.It kinda sucks that he is no longer there but he played his part well so I thank him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-6525912202350080217?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/6525912202350080217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=6525912202350080217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/6525912202350080217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/6525912202350080217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/purely-skin-deep.html' title='Purely skin deep'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1V83ZRlhMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Qun5543c7dg/s72-c/vampires1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-4810891250022313636</id><published>2007-12-04T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T07:07:27.968-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes forgivesness'/><title type='text'>Mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"It is not what your deeds are that makes you,Its your mistakes"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;We all are humans.We are not perfect.We make mistakes,sometimes small sometimes big. Whether it is a mistake of trusting the wrong foe or fooling a friend or simply doing soemthing absolutely stupid like videotaping ur sister's firstnight and selling it over the net.You might ask what is my point exactly? My point is when others make mistakes we don't forget or forgive easily but when we do the same mistake we expect them to forgive us easily as if its not a big deal.Why is it that we expect the things out of others that we can't even give to them? Is it a humanly flaw or somehow the effect of community on us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-4810891250022313636?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/4810891250022313636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=4810891250022313636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4810891250022313636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/4810891250022313636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/mistakes.html' title='Mistakes'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-305617841279787242</id><published>2007-12-03T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T02:49:41.972-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex life love'/><title type='text'>-&gt;to be or not to be?</title><content type='html'>Well this is a blog due to a comment I received.sex does raise some pretty interesting questions but hey sex is not the most important thing in this world.This life is more about prayers and stuff like that but teenagers such as my self doesn't really care about the afterlife.All they care about is having fun and enjoying but these things are secondary to Allah.&lt;br /&gt; The next issue is how do you really know if the guy is serious with you?...well it isn't really obvious whether or not he is really interested in you.Most of the guys just see your wee wee and nothing else and all they wanna do is "get freaky" but maybe that guy is really in to you.If he is really into you he won't try to force u or pressure u in any way to do so.If you decline his invitation then he would simply accept the fact and wouldn't go to other female homo sapien sapiens.&lt;br /&gt; For guys how do you that she is really serious with you? She wouldn't wanna have sex with you until your married.Boys, it isn't easy for a girl to give up herself just yet, and if you wait it is going to be worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt; Sex is a good load of 30% important but after marriage.After all just think about the great happiness u will get when you go to heaven when you stay away from fornication.The feelings are much pure and lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*So Ali I don't think it raises much question&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-305617841279787242?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/305617841279787242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=305617841279787242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/305617841279787242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/305617841279787242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='-&gt;to be or not to be?'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-970614444908700107</id><published>2007-12-02T05:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T05:42:44.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Love....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1K2C5RlhKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NpFB9QV7ZAo/s1600-R/blank.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139370285633733794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1K2C5RlhKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/9FFXFyxurHE/s320/blank.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is a word described with so many adjectives and all.But a lot of us don't really know the true meaning of the word love. I met quite a lot of guys who said 'I don't want to touch you merely because I love you' whilst others said 'If you love me,you will have sex with me' and some rare but true cases 'I wanna leave you because I love you and I dont want you to get hurt'. But somehow I always found a new way to realize that they don't givva rats*ss abt me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Byron, Child harold said and I quote"there for some feelings time cannot numb" Exact meaning is unknown but I think that it means even thought centuries come and go,there are some feelings time cannot stop.Love is the ultimate word tossed arnd these days.When we see a hot hot guy or chik we say "I totally love him/her" A lot of us come to the conclusion that we are in love or some of us refer to as Love at first when we see someone who catches your eye.And eventhough you all will disagree with me right now you know its totally true when i say that most of us will leave the so called love one when there is danger to your ownself.Its not bad infact I say its good cuz we should protect ourselves to protect others but it still doesn't answer the unversal question ...WHAT THE HELL IS LOVE???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-970614444908700107?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/970614444908700107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=970614444908700107' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/970614444908700107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/970614444908700107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/love.html' title='Love....'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1K2C5RlhKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/9FFXFyxurHE/s72-c/blank.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-8580672422708739227</id><published>2007-12-01T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T09:27:10.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1GXUZRlhJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ew__ojsLfvQ/s1600-R/butterfly_watching.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139055026444272786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1GXUZRlhJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/N3i_vJF2UoQ/s320/butterfly_watching.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somedays when Im all lost and confused with nowhere to go I just look at the butterflies and wish i could spread my wings and fly away...sad thing is that I was lead to beleive my whole that i wasn't a butterfly instead a moth.And I just went on beleiveing it. This was the fault of no one except mine. In my pictures and my movies I used to see a butterfly which was me.This buttefly gurl i used to see was me but a different one.She was full of confidence and humor and sparkle of life in her eyes.We had the same looks but she wasn't me.She was a happier version of me.I was so much different to the girl in the pictures I had no confidence or humor and my eyes were dull and empty like a bottom-less pitt. But I met a guy and he told me that I was a butterfly just ready to show my colours. He asked me the reason why I never showed my colourfull wings and he said that I radiated the most beatiful thing ever..Life. I did show my colourful wings and the other butterflies Which i used to be intimidated by are now intimidated by me...Thanks wiloo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-8580672422708739227?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/8580672422708739227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=8580672422708739227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/8580672422708739227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/8580672422708739227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/butterfly.html' title='Butterfly'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_72nvjNxjrds/R1GXUZRlhJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/N3i_vJF2UoQ/s72-c/butterfly_watching.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2353462225305862114.post-5351069047400179009</id><published>2007-12-01T09:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T09:11:26.756-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best things life'/><title type='text'>The best things..</title><content type='html'>The best things in life come when u least expect it.Whether its a small appreciation, gesture of love, the gift of trust or just a plain shoulder to rest ur head on.The best things in life is said to be this because at the end of the day these small things make big differences.&lt;br /&gt;  Also the best things in life come in series....like enemies-&gt;friendship-&gt;love and prison break. The best thing they don't last forever if u neglect them but they will fly just a centimeter away from ur reach..learn to appereciate the small things that make you laugh, for the big things they won't wait forever but the small things--the memories will always linger.If we just knew how to accept the small things....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2353462225305862114-5351069047400179009?l=jummi08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/feeds/5351069047400179009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2353462225305862114&amp;postID=5351069047400179009' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/5351069047400179009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2353462225305862114/posts/default/5351069047400179009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jummi08.blogspot.com/2007/12/best-things.html' title='The best things..'/><author><name>jummi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01024530189515254278</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></entry></feed>
