<?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-3838112372121291029</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:43:22.145+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Forever Kind</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-3990202738632037183</id><published>2011-03-10T01:41:00.007+04:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T02:16:48.128+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gail's Bucket List</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-d7a6CmzZY/TXf8OuwgLsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SC52GCvqa0E/s1600/Paragliding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-d7a6CmzZY/TXf8OuwgLsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SC52GCvqa0E/s320/Paragliding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582207593148853954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lines in Italics have been accomplished :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;1. Travel to all the continents apart from Antarctica&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;i&gt;Watch a ballet performance&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;i&gt;Go to the Opera&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Go to a huge music concert&lt;br /&gt;5. Learn to cook atleast 10 Indian recipes&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;i&gt;Go para-gliding&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;i&gt;Go para-sailing&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Jump from a plane with a parachute on&lt;br /&gt;9. Road trip around the US&lt;br /&gt;10. Learn the drums&lt;br /&gt;11. Perfect my Spanish and learn 1 other language&lt;br /&gt;12. Find a career that satisfies me&lt;br /&gt;13. Have long term best friends&lt;br /&gt;14. Find a country that is home&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;i&gt;Be in love and loved by a man who respects me and my dreams&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Never settle&lt;br /&gt;17. Make inspiring documentaries about Woman issues&lt;br /&gt;18. Work for National Geographic&lt;br /&gt;19. Be less guilty&lt;br /&gt;20. Fly a plane&lt;br /&gt;21. Go on the fastest/scariest roller coaster in the world&lt;br /&gt;22. Create something beautiful&lt;br /&gt;23. See more of India and Europe&lt;br /&gt;24. Dream in another language&lt;br /&gt;25. Inspire other women&lt;div&gt;26. Build a snowman and make a snow angel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27. Go sailing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28. Take lots of beautiful photographs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;29. &lt;i&gt;Learn Salsa&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;30. &lt;/i&gt;Write more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-3990202738632037183?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/3990202738632037183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=3990202738632037183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3990202738632037183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3990202738632037183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2011/03/gails-bucket-list.html' title='Gail&apos;s Bucket List'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-d7a6CmzZY/TXf8OuwgLsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SC52GCvqa0E/s72-c/Paragliding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-6917624656315017901</id><published>2009-04-20T02:01:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T02:20:19.238+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex Education in India still an impossible dream</title><content type='html'>My belief on Sex Education especially relating to cultures like India, is that if kids don't get information from the right sources, they will get it from the wrong. Today in the age where anal sex can be googled, most orgasmic sex positions can be youtubed and porn of any kind downloaded easily through Limewire, is it really SMART to not tell kids the facts about sex, pregnancy, parenting, rape etc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can girls protect themselves when they don't know if it's okay for a boy to touch her? How can a girl practice safe sex when she doesn't know how a condom works? I respect our culture, our norms and our traditions. Theres a history and purpose behind letting ashes of our dead float in the ganges and throwing color on people and women dancing in a synchronized group in alot of hindi movies, or so i'm lead to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's high time we question what has been going on for so long in our country, high time we question if we are exposing ourselves and our children to become victims of sexual predators, victims of various sexually trasmitted diseases or young scared pregnant girls who think the only answer is suicide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Take off the damn veil for heavens sake, stop pretending sex is oh so bad, not when we are the second populous country in the world, not when we take pride in the invention of the Kama Sutra. I want to be able to explain to my children about love and sex and the joy of having a family. I do NOT want to have to silence my child when he/she asks me about a condom advert we see on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we actually believe that ignorance of sex will lead to it not happening? How delusional are we? No, kids today know very early about alot of things that we were scared to ask about as teenagers and STILL can't discuss with our parents. So why can we not have sex education in schools? Why can't we teach our future generation of leaders about the right way to do it and leave them with an education choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are such a bunch of hypocrites...I can't decide if i should laugh or cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read about it here : &lt;a href="http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?newsid=1249050"&gt;http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?newsid=1249050&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tell me what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-6917624656315017901?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/6917624656315017901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=6917624656315017901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6917624656315017901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6917624656315017901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2009/04/sex-education-in-india-still-impossible.html' title='Sex Education in India still an impossible dream'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-5865007379922388961</id><published>2008-09-19T20:29:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:33:37.002+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation</title><content type='html'>Girl: Guess what?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: You like bunnies?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Yes but theres something i like more&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Shoes?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Sure, and...&lt;br /&gt;Boy: And?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Dancing so close to you that all i feel is you and all i smell is you&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Girl: Because it makes me deliciously happy&lt;br /&gt;Boy: You make me feel the same way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-5865007379922388961?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/5865007379922388961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=5865007379922388961' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5865007379922388961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5865007379922388961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/conversation.html' title='Conversation'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-3740165070510118252</id><published>2008-09-10T22:55:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T01:22:13.984+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Memories</title><content type='html'>Our memories,&lt;br /&gt;They come as a gust of wind,&lt;br /&gt;Lifting me up from reality&lt;br /&gt;And setting me down on clouds&lt;br /&gt;Made up of million moments&lt;br /&gt;We spent together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you giving me that special smile&lt;br /&gt;Your hair caressing your face&lt;br /&gt;Sharing a joke only we knew&lt;br /&gt;Doing things i still blush about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will forget the pain one day&lt;br /&gt;I will forget how your skin feels against mine&lt;br /&gt;I will forget how deep the colour in your eyes were&lt;br /&gt;But i won't forget the moments&lt;br /&gt;Those i will clasp in my heart&lt;br /&gt;Just as a treasure chest,&lt;br /&gt;It will be used on days&lt;br /&gt;That i need to be reminded&lt;br /&gt;How happy i can be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-3740165070510118252?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/3740165070510118252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=3740165070510118252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3740165070510118252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3740165070510118252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-memories.html' title='Poem: Memories'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-2825223134267144077</id><published>2008-09-10T22:43:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T22:44:58.324+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prose: Eric's fear</title><content type='html'>21 April, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well i wrote this for an assignment i had for scriptwriting, i was supposed to develop a character, well i made a short story out of it. Tell me what you think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric was a pretty normal fellow. He had a routine job at a bank, he didn’t like his cereal too soggy and no matter where he was, his shoes would always be polished to a gleaming shine. He had just turned 27 that year but was still mostly unsuccessful in love. No, the only thing special about Eric was his irrational fear of water.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It had all started simply enough. My mother had been forced to endure watching her sister struggle against a powerful water current that dragged her down despite her struggles and inevitably drown. I don’t think the mental image of my sister’s body being dragged out of the water ever truly left her mind. So it was with this fear crippling my mother’s life that I was raised. My mother never let me go for swimming lessons, I went to the beach maybe twice in my life and both times with friends. I couldn’t even bring myself to walk barefoot on the shore both times.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; After her death, my mother’s most persistent reminder became my Aqua-phobia. And like wine, with time, the fear only became more nagging and persistent. I had never been on a boat or ship. I dreaded having showers and the thought of a lounging in a bathtub full of water scared me more than any horror story ever could.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My fear got so intense and crippling that I would inevitably scare away any girl interested in dating me. The incident with Stacy comes to mind. It had been 2 months since I’d been dating her, she obviously knew all about my fear. But being my girlfriend and a woman, she had to find a way to “help me”. So for our 2 month anniversary she promised me a special surprise. Turned out it was a romantic dinner, candle light, violinist, the works, on a boat. Needless to say, when she finally let me open my eyes and see her work, I flew into an exaggerated rage, blaming her for not understanding, for belittling my fears and for trying to fix something that was none of her business. I wounded her pretty badly that night and I never heard from her again. Her pretty face covered in fresh salty tears is the last image I have of her in my mind.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Following that promising relationship, I sank into a heavy depression, until a co-worker worried about me and low productivity recommended a therapist. Therapy was something I would never have considered prior to my state of depression but at that low point in my life, I didn’t have much to lose. My therapist examined me, reassured me that my case was quite normal and asked me to find a small simple way to feel safer in water. He suggested the obvious, basic swimming lessons, a shallow pool with a trainer, he said gradually I would become desensitised to it. Well I found the idea very disturbing. I read the statistics online. I remember reading that a swimming pool was 14 times more likely to kill a child of 4 or under than a motor vehicle. Water was dangerous, it killed people everyday, I didn’t understand why I needed to overcome this fear. I had survived fine so far.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Two nights after the suggestion had been made by Dr. Nox, I woke up from one of my routine nightmares, I was in a boat that was slowly but surely filling up with water. I was going to drown, it was always with this knowledge and fear that I woke up thrashing in my bed, arms flailing, in my groggy state hoping for someone to rescue me. That night however, I was thirsty. I got out of bed, filled a cup with cold water and sat at my dinning table. It was that same night that I found respite from my depression. As I sat staring at that cup of water, watching the drops of water on the outside, drip down slowly, I saw a cockroach running across my kitchen floor. I don’t like cockroaches, who does? But It also didn’t particularly freak me out if I saw one once in a while in my house.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; But something eerie happened to me right then. Instinctively I went on all fours, held out my palm and waited. A few seconds later the cockroach crawled up to my hand, just like I knew it would. Carefully I closed my palm, the bug safely clasped inside. Then gently I dropped it into the cup of water. I watched it struggle pathetically against the glass as it tried to escape. I wondered if it was thinking, “How the fuck did I get here?”, and then I just burst out laughing until tears fell from my eyes and then I only laughed harder. The bugger was persistent, I watched it for 20 minutes just bobbing around, and then I tapped the glass with my finger and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In the morning the cup of glass lay on the table just as I had left it, with the dead cockroach inside. And thus began my weekly ritual of creature killing. It would be a whole host of different bugs, anything I found, anything that took my fancy. I tried ants, beetles, even flies. And as I would watch them struggle and drown, somehow I would feel better. Like I was proving to the world and these tiny helpless creatures what I knew all along- That water was merciless, it was cruel, it was dangerous and I would be damned if I let it kill me just as it had with those pathetic insects.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-2825223134267144077?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/2825223134267144077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=2825223134267144077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/2825223134267144077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/2825223134267144077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/prose-erics-fear.html' title='Prose: Eric&apos;s fear'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-7452048487597733323</id><published>2008-09-10T22:39:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T22:43:01.054+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Found: Angular motion and love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SMgU_RmLaSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Kh_5lhyR5Ig/s1600-h/spin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244464843360790818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SMgU_RmLaSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Kh_5lhyR5Ig/s320/spin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-7452048487597733323?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/7452048487597733323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=7452048487597733323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7452048487597733323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7452048487597733323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/found-angular-motion-and-love.html' title='Found: Angular motion and love'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SMgU_RmLaSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Kh_5lhyR5Ig/s72-c/spin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-8493915816725148328</id><published>2008-09-10T21:33:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:22:40.229+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: A kiss</title><content type='html'>13 February, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A valentine post because tomorrow is V-day afterall. This goes out especially to you feel. Happy valentines. Have a good valentines everyone. Hopefully with people who you love and love you back. Mine will be eventful, even if it is incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is a kiss?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a brief encounter of lips&lt;br /&gt;Like that amazing connection&lt;br /&gt;Of hearts and minds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be as light&lt;br /&gt;as the flutter&lt;br /&gt;of a butterfly’s wings&lt;br /&gt;on your eye lids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or as passionate&lt;br /&gt;as the anticipation of 2 lovers&lt;br /&gt;longing for immediate retribution&lt;br /&gt;for being apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and why does a kiss?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seem to say so many things&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;br /&gt;I think you’re beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And dampens the pain of&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;My feelings have changed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-8493915816725148328?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/8493915816725148328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=8493915816725148328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/8493915816725148328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/8493915816725148328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-kiss.html' title='Poem: A kiss'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-1414702050911039232</id><published>2008-09-10T21:31:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T21:32:46.469+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Despair</title><content type='html'>12 February, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, i am just going all out with the updates on my blog these last couple of days, prob cause it'll be another 6/7 months before the tirade of blog updates will flood my space again. So this is a poem i wrote a long time ago and found and then thought hey, i should put this on my space. That's what its there for right? Besides what with me going all gaga on love again in my prev posts, i think we all needed this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain within her soul,&lt;br /&gt;The world is closing in.&lt;br /&gt;Even a diamond is soiled,&lt;br /&gt;Only darkness, only despair,&lt;br /&gt;Only shadows in the light,&lt;br /&gt;No more breath to fight.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Her belief in God struggles through,&lt;br /&gt;But she is dragged from within.&lt;br /&gt;Searches for a friend who doesn’t exist,&lt;br /&gt;And a love who loves someone else.&lt;br /&gt;Until even hope is washed away,&lt;br /&gt;Like words fruitlessly written on the beach.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Darkness on both sides of her lids,&lt;br /&gt;Darkness that holds a million horrors,&lt;br /&gt;And so she falls again,&lt;br /&gt;As she tries to run away from her sins,&lt;br /&gt;Only to drop into the pit of hell,&lt;br /&gt;And boil forever more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-1414702050911039232?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/1414702050911039232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=1414702050911039232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/1414702050911039232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/1414702050911039232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-despair.html' title='Poem: Despair'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-7855290617638874310</id><published>2008-09-10T21:19:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T01:24:50.764+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Found: Love is random</title><content type='html'>11 February, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found some really cute conversations about love or just randomness, &lt;a href="http://boygirl.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://boygirl.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt; here. I'm posting 2 of the cutest :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trust me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl:  sometimes, my thoughts get all jumbled.&lt;br /&gt;boy:  what do you want to say? maybe I can help you.&lt;br /&gt;girl:  i don’t know how i feel about you.&lt;br /&gt;boy:  tell me how you feel now.&lt;br /&gt;girl:  i feel like there are tiny fireworks about to go off.&lt;br /&gt;boy:  i like fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;girl:  but what about my jumbled thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;boy:  the sparks will untangle them.  trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hand holding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl:  blow on the dandelion.&lt;br /&gt;boy:  how do i know if i’m doing it right?&lt;br /&gt;girl:  just blow until it poofs.&lt;br /&gt;boy:  until it poofs?  like how the stars poof when you spin around real fast?&lt;br /&gt;girl:  no, like how your heart poofs when we hold hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-7855290617638874310?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/7855290617638874310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=7855290617638874310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7855290617638874310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7855290617638874310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/found-love-is-random.html' title='Found: Love is random'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-2338434025821692952</id><published>2008-09-10T21:18:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T21:19:40.388+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: The difference</title><content type='html'>06 February 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And during my wirting spree, i managed to pour forth yet another mass of pounding love and cute verses. Enjoy :)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The difference between love and lust,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Is that you miss the sound of his voice&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you bring him chicken soup when he’s sick.&lt;br /&gt;Or when you want to hold hands because you want the world to know&lt;br /&gt;And when you want to kiss her tears away gently&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you make him cookies&lt;br /&gt;And wear her favourite tee shirt even though you don’t like it so much&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you want to have a fight to see if he’ll call you back&lt;br /&gt;It’s also when you drag him groggy eyed to see the sun rise&lt;br /&gt;And you want to share everything, even gum&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you start reading about things he likes&lt;br /&gt;And unconsciously start using his lingo&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you start calling all your guy friends his name&lt;br /&gt;And think of him every time you hear a song&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you want him to be possessive&lt;br /&gt;It’s when you carve your name and his somewhere in your room&lt;br /&gt;It's when you want him to say you're his&lt;br /&gt;It's when she always looks beautiful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-2338434025821692952?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/2338434025821692952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=2338434025821692952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/2338434025821692952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/2338434025821692952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-difference.html' title='Poem: The difference'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-4839384873087117210</id><published>2008-09-01T19:52:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:53:34.891+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: WIll you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;06 February 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Maybe i was thinking of someone, maybe my inspiration was my own dreams and hopeless romanticism (i don't know if that's a word), but here it is. Enjoy the mushiness ^^, we all need a spoonful once in a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will you let me whisper in your ear?&lt;br /&gt;Sweet nothings that will make you smile&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will you run your hands through my hair?&lt;br /&gt;And kiss me gently on my temple&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will you sneak up behind me and pull me close?&lt;br /&gt;Close enough to feel your warmth and smell your smell&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will you try to make me smile in between my tears?&lt;br /&gt;And gently wipe the tears away from my lashes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will you try to love me forever?&lt;br /&gt;As much as I love you, not less or more.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-4839384873087117210?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/4839384873087117210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=4839384873087117210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/4839384873087117210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/4839384873087117210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-will-you.html' title='Poem: WIll you?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-422663182442014121</id><published>2008-09-01T19:49:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:50:17.211+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Report: Fair and Lovely, Media’s messages on beauty according to colour</title><content type='html'>07 January 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Statistics&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Fairness creams advertising on television marks a rise of 56 per cent in the first half of year 2004 compared to the same period in 2003. Hindustan Lever rules the fairness creams category with nearly 84.4 per cent of the advertising pie on television in 2003.&lt;br /&gt;The fairness industry accounts for 60 percent of skincare sales, bringing in $140 million a year.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Universal beauty stereotypes&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The European characteristics of light skin color, blonde hair, and blue eyes are the “gold standard” for physical attractiveness in the United States. Eurocentric beauty messages are communicated across the media and, where possible, males and females are transforming their physical appearance to conform to these standards.&lt;br /&gt;Research on African Americans, for example, supports the notion that skin colors that are darker than the “standard” have negative consequences for the self-concept.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Attractiveness, like skin color and sex, is an easily observed status and may serve as the basis for discrimination, which impacts social interactions and psychological well-being. Discrimination is a likely experience for youth whose physical appearance deviates from the preferred. Social rejection from peers and the sorting into social networks because of one’s skin color maybe very stressful and enhance the risk for depression and low self-esteem.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Self-evaluations are formed from the perceptions of the appraisals of others. Youth who believe their skin color is viewed negatively by others may become dissatisfied with their skin color, and consequently develop low self-esteem and depression.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Children who are considered “too dark” or in some cases “too light” in comparison to family members or peers are often taunted, experience feelings of shame, become dissatisfied with their skin color, and wish to change their skin color. They internalize the negative evaluations suggested by their family members and peers and may constantly imagine that others view their skin color poorly.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Due to the pervasiveness of media, it may be difficult for adolescents to avoid social comparisons with media portrayals of skin color. The leading African American females in films are usually light-skinned with European features, while the leading African American males appearing in films are usually dark-skinned.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Overall, the media also perpetuates images of fair-skinned, long haired, Eurocentric beauty.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In Indian cinema beauty is more often than not portrayed by fair to wheat-ish looking women. No dark actress comes to mind immediately. While this holds true also for male actors we can find several popular actors like Hrithik Roshan, Shahrukh Khan etc who are more tanned than most Indian actresses. Also famous Indian celebrities like Aishwarya Rai, Shushmita Sen etc who are fairly light skinned are shown to represent Indian beauty in many Indian advertisements.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Many matrimonial websites as well as matrimony advertisements in newspapers etc show the preference for fair skinned brides. Not only will you find that a smaller percentage of dark women will describe themselves as such rather choosing wheatish in websites like shadi.com but majority of the women who do describe themselves as dark.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Betting that the fairness craze in India will continue, American and European companies are fighting for their market share. Popular western brands Avon, L'Oreal, Lancome, Yves Saint-Laurent, Clinique, Elizabeth Arden, Estee Lauder, and Revlon, offer whitening products. In addition, cheap knockoffs like "Cure and Lovely" are making the rounds.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Two attractive young women are sitting in a bedroom having an intimate conversation. The lighter-skinned woman has a boyfriend and, consequently, is happy. The darker-skinned woman, lacking a boyfriend, is not. Her friend's advice? Use a bar of soap to wash away the dark skin that's keeping men from flocking.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Hindustan Lever Limited, one of India's largest manufacturing and marketing conglomerates, discontinued two of its television advertisements for Fair and Lovely Fairness Cold Cream this month, after a year-long campaign led by the All India Democratic Women's Association.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Its frequently-aired ads typically show a depressed woman with few prospects gaining a brighter future by attaining a boyfriend or job after becoming markedly fairer (emphasized by several silhouettes of her face lined up dark to light). On its Web site the company calls its product, "the miracle worker," which is "proven to deliver one to three shades of change."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Advertisements for beauty products promote the notion that females closest to the “European look” are the most attractive of their group.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;For white students, dissatisfaction with skin color may be a response to attractiveness standards related to tanning, wanting brighter skin, or to dermatological problems, such as acne, rather than a consequence of colorism or race discrimination. Evidence that meanings of dissatisfaction with skin color may differ culturally can be observed in the use of skin whitening products and skin whitening advertisements that send different messages to racial groups. Among people of color, skin whitening is traditionally associated with oppression, self-hate, and feelings of inferiority. Skin whitening advertisements directed toward whites suggests that the use of the product is to restore youthfulness and brightness.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In no other developmental phase is skin color so closely linked to attractiveness popularity and self-worth than in adolescence. Research suggests that females are generally more dissatisfied than males with their physical appearance, and males’ self-esteem is not affected by body dissatisfaction.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;While both white females and females of color spend millions of dollars on beauty products, many products that target females of color, such as skin bleaches, promote whitening as part of the beautifying process&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Today anxiety over not appearing “white enough” among white women is evidenced by increasing sales of skin whitening products marketed to white women as “anti-aging therapy.” These products lighten skin in efforts to remove dark spots and to stay youthful.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Does it affect men?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Nearly 27 per cent of Fairever's users are men," says a CavinKare official. That amounts to nearly Rs 22 crore in sales, since Fairever's sales are estimated at Rs 80 crore.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Companies claim that nearly 25% of fairness cream users are men. Sales of Fair &amp;amp; Lovely are estimated at Rs 500 crore and men contribute Rs 100 crore. But while Fair &amp;amp; Lovely leads the fairness creams pack with an estimated market share of 55 per cent, CavinKares' Fairever, which occupies the second spot, does better with male consumers.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Increasing public criticism may be initiating a change in cultural attitudes towards skin whitening in India. In a memo to India's National Human Rights Commission, Brinda Karat, general secretary of the women's association, calls one of the ads "discriminatory on the basis of the color of skin," and "an affront to a woman's dignity," because it shows fairer women having greater job success based on their sexuality.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Harmful effects of skin bleaching&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;All skin bleaching products contain one of the two active ingredients: hydroquinone and mercury.&lt;br /&gt;The long term effects of using skin lightening products are,Hydroquinone or Mercury applied to the skin will react with ultra violet rays and re-oxidise, leading to more pigmentation and premature ageing. More product is then applied in an attempt to correct the darker blotchy appearance. These are the beginnings of a vicious cycle. By altering the skins natural structure and inhibiting the production of Melanin, it’s natural protection, the skin is more susceptible to skin cancer. Prolonged use of Hydroquinone will thicken collegen fibres damaging the connective tissues. The result is rough blotchy skin leaving it with a spotty cavier appearance. Mercury will slowly accumulate within the skin cells striping the skin of it’s natural pigment leaving behind the tell tale signs of gray/ blue pigmentation in the folds of the skin. In the long term the chemical will damage vital organs and lead to liver and kidney failure and mercury poisoning.&lt;br /&gt;Mercury-based bleaching creams contain ammoniated mercury or mercrous chloride as a bleaching agent. Some of these creams may contain up to more than 2-5% mercury that will be harmful to health. Thus resulting in mercury poisoning, especially chronic mercury poisoning, may result.&lt;br /&gt;In the Minimata epidemic in Japan, there were 42 brain-damaged children in 400 live births. Only one of the mothers had no sign of having mercury poisoning. Majority of the mothers had used mercury-based bleaching creams during her childbearing years.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Siblings of mercury-based cream users are also found to have mercury in their urine. These goes to show that second hand poisoning is possible.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Banning products containing Hydroquinone and Mercury will not stop the products from entering the markets and being sold under the counter. The only way we can make a positive impact on preventing this ‘disease’ from spreading is through continuous campaigns raising awareness via the media and the government.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The awareness that whitening products can damage the skin is growing. To respond to health concerns, "Fair and Lovely" has come out with an "ayurvedic" formula, a term referring to a well-known system of Indian herbal medicine. And at an upscale salon in Delhi, at a chain also owned by Hindustan Lever, Puja Sharma stresses to potential customers that her lightening facials are all-natural, using milk and fresh fruits like tomato and papaya. However, at four to six times the price of Rachna Gupta's monthly bleaching, this option finds fewer takers.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;References and videos&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17fEy0q6yqc&amp;amp;eurl=http://community.livejournal.com/blackcigarette/540354.html&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/789835.cms&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;http://vsequeira.blogspot.com/2005/07/fair-lovely.html&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.der.org/films/a-darker-side-of-fair.html"&gt;http://www.der.org/films/a-darker-side-of-fair.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;http://www.lib.ncsu.edu/theses/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-422663182442014121?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/422663182442014121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=422663182442014121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/422663182442014121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/422663182442014121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/report-fair-and-lovely-medias-messages.html' title='Report: Fair and Lovely, Media’s messages on beauty according to colour'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-6609352031239627559</id><published>2008-09-01T19:47:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:47:59.734+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Easy flow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;02 May 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Struggles kept aside&lt;br /&gt;Curtains drawn tight&lt;br /&gt;Can you see the trembling hands?&lt;br /&gt;Can you see the terrified clutching?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Past my zone&lt;br /&gt;Dragged and tended&lt;br /&gt;Peer deeper, swim under&lt;br /&gt;Throw aside the weeds, then you’ll see&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sense differs to them&lt;br /&gt;Go past the jury&lt;br /&gt;It’s not yours to make&lt;br /&gt;Fall with grace and emerge&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You must move first&lt;br /&gt;Thus willingly surrendered&lt;br /&gt;Make a whole, whole&lt;br /&gt;At last look back from the finish &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-6609352031239627559?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/6609352031239627559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=6609352031239627559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6609352031239627559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6609352031239627559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-easy-flow.html' title='Poem: Easy flow'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-7742192333748192025</id><published>2008-09-01T19:45:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T02:20:05.203+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prose: Underlying</title><content type='html'>27 February 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellen stood on the dock gazing into the lake with almost hypnotic concentration. A frail child of 15, her soft curls gently shifted in the night breeze. The moon had been suddenly ambushed by clouds and seemed unable to escape them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stood there poised, tense as an arrow. Then with no warning, she plunged into the bobbing liquid. She felt no fear; the water that surrounded her blanketed her so comfortably. She let herself sink lower into the inky water. She began to swim away from the dock to the light. It beckoned and seemed to reach out to her. 5 minutes later she saw the source of the unnatural light. A giant eyeball, as big as her house, stared at her anticipating her approach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she neared the giant eyes glance shifted over her from top to bottom. It eyed her again and again until Ellen felt she would either throw up or go insane. She knew it was stripping away her clothes mentally, and she forced herself not to try to cover her under-developed breasts with her hands. She stopped when she was 6 feet away from the eye. What are you?, she wondered. The eye immediately focused on her eyes with ill-disguised lust. I want to see the twins, it said greedily. The twins! The twins! I need to see them now! And she felt herself being drawn towards the eye with a sudden force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO! ,she screamed in her mind. Let me go, She pleaded and whimpered. Shut up Ellen, it replied. Shut up and get away from me you filth and she felt the force push her to the door. It seemed to float above the ground and  wasn’t attached to anything. The gray metallic door looked ominous and she struggled even more fiercely against the force pushing her towards it. I won’t go back, I won’t, she said to herself grimly. But it was all in vain. She had now reached the door and the force shoved her against it hard trying to persuade her to turn the knob. She resisted until she knew she had begun to bleed. She turned the knob, choking on her sobs and entered. The force immediately left her and the door disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room if that’s what it could be called was white. A pure, bright and blinding white. Whichever way she turned she could only see more white. Her eyes began to water but she rubbed at them viciously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of her, creeping softly towards her was whiskers. The little blue stuffed bunny came up to her and she could hear it saying something but she couldn’t make out the words. She snuggled whiskers and listened. Whiskers continued to chant in a harsh whisper, cut him into little pieces, cut him into little pieces, cut him… On and on it chanted the mantra and soon Ellen was chanting too. Her voice no more had fear or surprise. She simply chanted stolidly with her face buried in whiskers soft head. Every time she uttered them she felt stronger and happier. She began to shout hysterically, CUT HIM UP INTO LITTLE PIECES, CUT HIM UP INTO LITTLE PIECES… She began laughing, a high pitched shriek of a tortured child. She laughed and rocked herself and whiskers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse Odetta hurried towards Ellen with a syringe. Ellen, a 27-year-old patient in ward 4b was now shrieking wildly and laughing in her sleep. It was 3 in the morning, and Nurse Odetta knew the doctor would get mad if Ellen woke the others patients up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-7742192333748192025?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/7742192333748192025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=7742192333748192025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7742192333748192025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/7742192333748192025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/prose-underlying.html' title='Prose: Underlying'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-5688614151058369129</id><published>2008-09-01T19:44:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:45:42.418+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality check</title><content type='html'>13 February 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, nothing major happened today. I think. but i thought i'd blog because i have this amazing feeling. And it's been so long since i've had this feeling, i just had to describe it and revel in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like i've been in a coma for so long except i was also in continuous pain and no one could lessen or numb it. And suddenly with no warning i resurface, with a sudden determination and will i wake up from that deadly slumber and the pain is gone. and I can finally be alive. And i'm so happy. why wouldn't i be? i had been in the middle of life and death for so long. so long that i had forgotten what it felt like to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe i finally understand what they mean by needing the lows to appreciate the highs. maybe. Though that doesn't make the lows suck any less. So yeah i suddenly realised that i'm free again. Sure it may only be for a very brief while. Life does't give you a break. But atleast for now i am free. Free from doubt and insecurity. I know i don't have to worry about my results yet. The guy i love is still sticking with me, if only for a little longer. I have found an awesome friend in an awesome person. AND i found the perfect song to match my mood. omg i'm in love again! lol...if you trust me and like my kind of music then listen and love "Why Georgia" by John mayer. Yes tonight i can go to sleep happy and peaceful. And i don't mind if i enjoy this tiny bit of sunshine amidst the rain clouds. I think i deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woah...i didn't know THAT would make this big a post. Great huh? lol...don't mind me. i love you guys. i love you sarah and i love you vipul. for now i can say that out loud and proud. Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-5688614151058369129?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/5688614151058369129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=5688614151058369129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5688614151058369129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5688614151058369129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/reality-check.html' title='Reality check'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-550361654894883023</id><published>2008-09-01T19:37:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:44:15.111+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Stuck between us</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;29 January 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stuck between us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shook me out of my belief&lt;br /&gt;Unsure of being&lt;br /&gt;Like a boy trying to find his groove&lt;br /&gt;Like a bird trying to not hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's the compromise?&lt;br /&gt;I can't always change&lt;br /&gt;Aren't you supposed to love the me I am?&lt;br /&gt;And what if I'll always have pain to hide?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stuck between me and you&lt;br /&gt;I can't help myself anymore&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who I am or going to be&lt;br /&gt;You seem to make all the decisions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how can I not worry?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you..?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-550361654894883023?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/550361654894883023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=550361654894883023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/550361654894883023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/550361654894883023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-stuck-between-us.html' title='Poem: Stuck between us'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-3944455374675031588</id><published>2008-09-01T19:33:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:37:18.090+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some facts about driving...the Dubai way</title><content type='html'>27 September 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving In Dubai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If your road map is more than a few weeks old, throw it out and get a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you are in Rashidiya and your map is one day old, then it is already obsolete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. Dubai has it's own version of traffic rules, which can be summarized as "Hold on and pray!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If it is your priority to cross, forget it and wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. There is no such thing as a dangerous high-speed chase in Dubai. Everyone drives like that.6. When you plan to get a new car, ask first about its acceleration from 80 to 160 Km/h (recommended: 3 seconds). Very important if you frequently use the Emirates Road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. All directions start with Sheikh Zayed Road , which has no beginning and no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. The morning rush hour is from 5:00 AM, The evening rush hour is from 1:00 PM to 10:00 PM. 9. Thursday's rush hour starts Wednesday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. If you slow down at a yellow light, you will be rear-ended and then given a ticket by the DubaiPolice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. If you are the first one at the intersection, when the light turns green ignore the car honking behind you and count to five to avoid crashing into one of the cars running the red light in cross-traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Construction on all main roads is a way of life and a permanent form of entertainment. (Sorry for the inconvenience)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. All unfamiliar sights are explained by the phrase, "Oh, we must be in Sharjah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Car horns are actually toys for big boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Anyone in a Land Cruiser, Tuned Patrol, or Mercedes with tinted windows has the right of way. Period!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 16. If you are driving a Corolla, Sunny, or another small Japanese car, stay on the far right lane. No comment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Most roads mysteriously change names as you cross intersections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. To ask directions, you must have good knowledge of Hindi/ Malayalam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. A trip across town will take a minimum of four hours, although Sheikh Zayed Road has an unposted minimum speed of 150 Km/h.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. It is sobering to realize that local Arabs are taught how to drive by Pakistanis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. 18 wheeler trucks are one of the fastest vehicles in Dubai ; they can do 120 Km/h on Hatta-Oman Road when fully loaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. The minimum acceptable speed on the Emirates Road is 160 km/h. Anything less is considered downright sissy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Al Khail Road is Dubai's daily version of NASCAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Dubai Autodrome has a new extension: The Emirates Road .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. WELCOME TO THE UAE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-3944455374675031588?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/3944455374675031588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=3944455374675031588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3944455374675031588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3944455374675031588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/some-facts-about-drivingthe-dubai-way.html' title='Some facts about driving...the Dubai way'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-9208696692951623646</id><published>2008-09-01T19:29:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:32:06.523+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Article: Child abuse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;18 September 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have always had strong views on child abuse...here namely spanking or inflicting other forms of corporal punishment upon children to promote good behaviour...it is wrong...hitting a child will not make anything better...heres a poem i found that really explains it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teddy, I've been bad again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mommy told me so;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure what I did wrong,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I thought that you might know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up this morning,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that she was mad;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause she was crying awful hard,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yelling at my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried my best to be real good,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do just what she said;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned my room all by myself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even made my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I spilled milk on my good shirt,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she yelled at me to hurry;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess she didn't hear me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told her I was sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause she hit me awful hard, you see,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And called me funny names;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And told me I was really bad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I should be ashamed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I said, "I love you, Mommy,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess she didn't understand;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause she yelled at me to shut my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I'd get smacked again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I came up here to talk to you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please tell me what to do;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I really love my Mommy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know she loves me, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't think my Mommy means,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To hit me quite so hard;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess sometimes, grown ups forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How really big they are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Teddy, I wish you were real,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you weren't just a bear;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you could help me find a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell Mommies every where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To please try hard to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How sad it makes us feel;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause the outside pain soon goes a way,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the inside never heals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if we could make them listen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe then they'd understand;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So other children just like me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't have to hurt again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, I guess I'll hold you tight,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pretend the pain's not there;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you'd never hurt me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Goodnight, Teddy Bear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-9208696692951623646?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/9208696692951623646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=9208696692951623646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/9208696692951623646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/9208696692951623646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/article-child-abuse.html' title='Article: Child abuse'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-8443543956305113631</id><published>2008-09-01T19:25:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:27:33.381+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Occupied</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;10 September 2006&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting this for many reasons, most importantly&lt;br /&gt;because i haven't posted anything for ages and i needed to get the depression out of my system! so hope you guys like it...love to all&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tick tock. Time’s running out.&lt;br /&gt;Love me or leave me.&lt;br /&gt;Not fucking doubt.&lt;br /&gt;Torn, demented, side-to-side.&lt;br /&gt;Tears aplenty, blood none.&lt;br /&gt;Won’t drive me to it.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stay strong.&lt;br /&gt;For a minute or two.&lt;br /&gt;It’s inside my brain.&lt;br /&gt;Torment, torture, almost insane.&lt;br /&gt;Need to bite.&lt;br /&gt;To hunt to explain.&lt;br /&gt;Rundown excuses.&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha you’re caught.&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh. Poor me.&lt;br /&gt;Times run out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-8443543956305113631?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/8443543956305113631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=8443543956305113631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/8443543956305113631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/8443543956305113631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-occupied.html' title='Poem: Occupied'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-5896640370459139157</id><published>2008-09-01T19:24:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:25:16.527+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prose: The dark interiors</title><content type='html'>07 July 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room is dark and the only steady noise comes from the air conditioning. The sound was usually comforting but tonight it echoes off the silent walls. I lay curled under the covers of the bed. Lying on the extreme left of the bed. It’s always the left because my sister is the only one who can sleep sandwiched between two people. And my mom sleeps on the right. Usually.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t sleep. I’m not used to sleeping alone. Alone in this room. I don’t believe in ghosts but no matter which side I tried to sleep on I couldn’t get rid of the thought that there was a monster on the other side of my lids. I’m just not used to sleeping alone. Alone in this house.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I tossed and turned. I finally got up and picked a teddy from my shelf. I got back into the bed three people used to sleep on. Not tonight. I tried again to shut out from my mind grotesque faces and hands that would reach for me. My imagination reigns free during the night. I pushed the thought away again tonight. I grabbed my teddy around the neck and tried to fall asleep again. I had an early day tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I turned on my right and got my teddy to the right. I curled on my left and pulled the teddy once more to the left. This wasn’t working.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My mind naturally wandered to him. I felt so alone, scared but he made it worse. I tried reasoning with myself. Of course he loves me, it wasn’t even a big deal. So he forgot to say goodbye. Does it really matter? It probably has more to do with the fact that he seems to want to see me less and less. How do I reassure my self otherwise? He didn’t even say goodbye. It doesn’t matter to him if he doesn’t hear my voice everyday. It doesn’t matter if I don’t meet him for a day or a week. Why does it matter to me then? So even he doesn’t love me. I’m a loner. I guess I’m just not that special. It’s not the end of the world.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Of course the tears are falling now. My constant silent companions. And I feel so much more alone and that pain I’m feeling spreads rapidly. The teddy is now a squashed sodden mess and so is the pillow. I gently push the teddy away. I curl up as tight as I can. Again. And I try to get used to the pain and the empty bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-5896640370459139157?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/5896640370459139157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=5896640370459139157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5896640370459139157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/5896640370459139157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/prose-dark-interiors.html' title='Prose: The dark interiors'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-6525677018795576941</id><published>2008-09-01T19:20:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:23:30.745+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem: Two different realities</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;27 June 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a sound from the phone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a tear left to shed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a chance in hell,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She feels so alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a care in the world,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a moment to spare,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a trick left untried,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wants for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a hint of a smile,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a second glance,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a secret admirer,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s the latest shade of invisible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a chipped nail,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a queue,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a lack of choices,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s hot and knows it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to never judge a book by its cover?,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who killed the guys who don’t love a girl for her bra size?,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are dark, fat and curly adjectives for ugly?,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When are we going to stop trusting only those who look attractive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;questions&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;My advice, Know you are beautiful because a lot of the time no one else is going to tell you and because there really is no one better than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-6525677018795576941?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/6525677018795576941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=6525677018795576941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6525677018795576941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/6525677018795576941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/poem-two-different-realities.html' title='Poem: Two different realities'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-9090521055802853354</id><published>2008-09-01T19:10:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:11:41.987+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prose: What are you thinking?</title><content type='html'>May 25 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two slouched figures sitting on the stair. They sit eyes averted, glancing anywhere but at each other. Both are at opposite corners, both uncertain and scared. The space between them speaks volumes but the silence screams in despair.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There was a time when he couldn’t get his hands off her, a time when she cuddled up to him at every possible chance. But things had changed as they always do. They both wanted it to be the same but didn’t know how to mend the hole that was growing.&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************************&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She thought to her self, no I mustn’t cry. STOP being such a baby. You knew this day was coming. You knew but you still fell in love. He doesn’t love me any more. He’s bored. I knew I wasn’t good enough. Why is it so hard to accept its over? …If only I could make him love me.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Why isn’t he saying anything? The silence is driving me CRAZY! Why is he torturing me like this? I HATE him. I hate him so much!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye. His heart constricts as he notices the single tear slip gently down her chin and silently plunge to the ground. He stops himself from jumping up and pulling her into his arms.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He misses the way she links her arm in his, he misses seeing her smile to something he says but most of all he misses the way she would always try to hide her delicate insecurities from him.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But it hasn’t been that way for a while now. His confidence has faded. His insecurities have matured. He doesn’t know what’s wrong or what’s right. He wants to say something, tell her he still loves her but these thoughts are just stuck in his head.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tell her you love her, you moron. Do something! Should I pull her close? What if she pushes me away?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Kyle… what are you thinking?” she says.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Nothing”, he replies. “What were you thinking?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“About us”, she hurriedly answers.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What about us?” he asks.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She searches for some sign of affection on his face but she couldn’t see any. “Maybe we should stop seeing each other…it’s obviously not working”, she whispered, digging her nails into her hand to stop herself from crying.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But I need you in my life. “Are you sure?” he asks.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;No! Please say you’re not ready to let me go. “I think so…” she answers.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I wish I could kiss you and make you see you are so wrong. “Take care of yourself. I …Bye claire”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Bye. Thanks for …everything.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;He stands up, she follows suite.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As they walk away in opposite directions, they both try hard not to turn around and look for the final time at what they’re letting go.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And as they slowly but brutally walk away from the 2 years of shared memories, the pain breaks them in different ways.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Both of them however share the same regret. They finally see the sick irony.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; They didn’t show their real feelings in the fear of getting hurt only to end up there anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-9090521055802853354?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/9090521055802853354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=9090521055802853354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/9090521055802853354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/9090521055802853354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/prose-what-are-you-thinking.html' title='Prose: What are you thinking?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-952829296843474366</id><published>2008-09-01T19:04:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:09:47.765+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love? shmove!</title><content type='html'>19 May 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's messed up? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love! love&lt;/span&gt; is sooo messed up. Especially because of all the made up, useless promises and hopes that accompany it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"love at first sight",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; yea...okay...what the HELL is that? you look at a guy or girl the first time ONLY if she/he is hot or gorgeous...so basically you're saying love works when you chase after an attractive person?? who mind you could very well be a jerk or a bitch...experience shows thats usually the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all&lt;/span&gt;"...yea suure...which genius stated that? does he/ she know how the "love" bug affects humans...especially teenagers? we spend out entire worthless lives...worthless because we waste soo much time scouring the earth for our "soul mate"...and we already know how much HAPPIER we are after finding the perfect person. the MOST recurring thing i've got from love is pain...i kid u not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't it scare you silly? You &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fool&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; yourself into beliveing you love someone and then share your most intimate thoughts, hopes and secrets with them. OMG...we trust another HUMAN being with our fucking lives...we basically offer our hearts to the special someone because we trust them. and guess what happens then? It ALL falls apart...thats what! we have so many expectations of love...SO many...walks on the beach? watching a sunrise? happily ever after? and surprise surprise...we get let down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lift up one expectation and it gets squished, i pick up another one and that gets stomped on too...how many of us can say i know for SURE i love my guy/gurl? and IF ur thinking "i can", then please let me mention the variety of cases, both kids and adults that i have heard say the SAME thing only to find another "true love", the next month...if they manage to make it for a WHOLE month, that is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can guarentee from my EXPERIENCE, that every time i have loved someone enough to trust them...it ends horribly ...for ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The definition of love: Handing over enormous power to another, of causing serious harm and pain to oneself.... accurate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the need to stress here that LOVE=10(PAIN) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;ANY kind of love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If  its ur folks...okay no need to go there...they can say and do alot that can cause pain...sometimes its so hard to even say you love your parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siblings...they can do these small things that just insult you and you're left wondering how could he/she do that? coz it hurts...they dont even CONSIDER your feelings before making a fool of you in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends??! oh man...if its not enough that ur constantly trying to drag your ass from the depths of despair...along come your friends. You try to help, by any technique you know...and then they say those fatal words...i heard it twice today.."leave me ALONE"...oops...my bad...coz it was soo much fun trying to get you to talk about ur &lt;a href="mailto:f*@#ing"&gt;f*@#ing&lt;/a&gt; feelings and getting you to to move on! aww...leave u alone? let u be? fine...if u insist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "one", "soul mate", "honey", watever you may call him...her...yea...i've had those wonderful times and moments where u think..."can I be this lucky"...but how many more MILLION times have i shed assloads of tears...doubting my OWN self worth because theres no time for me...no love....no NOTHING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just no fun having to cry over the same shit over and over again...even I'M bored...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean with all this love/shit floating around all the time...how can a hopeless romantic such a myself continue being a hopeless romantic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All i see is around me is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;dissatisfaction...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Someone wants love and keeps whining about how they cant FIND it...&lt;br /&gt;- Someone doesnt WANT it but gets it anyway...&lt;br /&gt;- Those who Actually find someone WORTH the effort end up getting bored n brutally hurting the latter&lt;br /&gt;- Some who think they're happily in LUURVE...well it sucks the WORST for them...they either get:&lt;br /&gt;       cheated on...&lt;br /&gt;       have to move across continents...&lt;br /&gt;       are found out n subsequently screwed&lt;br /&gt;       have to quit coz of human stupidity like religion, caste&lt;br /&gt;       realize after months of dating...that their differences are too big to not matter...&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;So love has&lt;/span&gt; in fact proved time and time over how shitty and painful it can be...and is! and YET we continue to belive we wouldnt be happy without it? uhmm hello...am i missing something here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact alot of the time i wonder...&lt;em&gt;wouldnt the world be a much happier place if we werent all getting hurt by love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well i guess i feel slightly better now...and basically the whole point of this was to say love isnt all its cracked up to be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps: and they lived happily ever after...NOT!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-952829296843474366?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/952829296843474366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=952829296843474366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/952829296843474366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/952829296843474366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-shmove.html' title='Love? shmove!'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3838112372121291029.post-3822080149883152636</id><published>2008-09-01T18:30:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:03:59.895+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just reminded me of you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 May, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This goes out to my baby, I loved the song, it just made me think of you so i had to post the lyrics...Hope you guys like it too....its by Shania Twain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; KiSs&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;could be it&lt;/span&gt;, I think I'm in &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; this time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;just seems to fit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I think I'm in &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; can see you with me when I'm older&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;All my lonely nights are finally over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt; took the weight of the world &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;off my shoulders &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chorus: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Oh,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;kiss me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; miss me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;when you're&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;w&lt;/span&gt;o&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;d&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;just goes away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; hold me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The way&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;show me&lt;/span&gt; that you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;adore me&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;oh,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;when you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;kiss me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;"&gt;Oh, yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are the one, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I think I'm in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Life&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;has begun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I can see the two of us together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I'm gonna be &lt;/span&gt;with &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;you &lt;/span&gt;forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;couldn't be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;any better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I can see you with me when I'm older&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;All my lonely nights are finally over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;took the weight of the world &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;off my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;shoulders &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;And when&lt;/span&gt; you kiss me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;I know&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you miss me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Oh,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;d&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;just goes away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;u&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;kiss &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;e!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3838112372121291029-3822080149883152636?l=theforeverkind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/feeds/3822080149883152636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3838112372121291029&amp;postID=3822080149883152636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3822080149883152636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3838112372121291029/posts/default/3822080149883152636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theforeverkind.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-reminded-me-of-you.html' title='Just reminded me of you...'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02077361880213694244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0gmiCy-rgp8/SG4M87NgFJI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RhhyGQXvx8A/S220/DSC01080.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
