<?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-4120139007645911220</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:10:26.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life</title><subtitle type='html'>The ups and downs and the confusion of my life.. Basically the emo side of me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4462366438808236356</id><published>2009-01-21T03:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T04:10:55.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No more fucking up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No more fucking up.. It's been awhile.. too much fucking up aint very good for both my family and me health.. haha... funky aint it..&lt;br /&gt;Well I've decided not to go too extreme with too much shit anymore.. Instead take my role of responsibilities and look like a role fucking model.. :D..&lt;br /&gt;Well other than that.. life has been alright so far. Highlight of the term, me and navo created a band called Entertaining You Fools. I'm actually surprised that it's really working out.&lt;br /&gt;We've created some good shit, some good ass music.. It's kinda incredible that one such as navo and one such as me can actually come together to create something we both love and actually give it life. I don't mean to be too proud but the songs that me and navo do are actually rather a kinda new sound. A rapper/Hip hop R&amp;amp;B coming together to a rock and roll, nu-metal, jazz kinda guy.. Hmm .. interesting combination don't you think.. :D&lt;br /&gt;Well we created a joke website about our band, www.entertainingufools.webs.com&lt;br /&gt;Check it out and give us a few comments, or just watch our vids and enjoy to the beat of the music.&lt;br /&gt;haha.. I guess our genre would be fooling you.. :D..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much this term has been like a shot gun with busy as shells. Constantly shooting at me from every direction. It's about time I started doing that.. haha.. Been lazy for a term.. Can't fuck up anymore.&lt;br /&gt;PTPI, Surprisingly Global debates (though it's a small part).. haha Join the global craze!! :D.. SHEELA!!!!! lol.. X-country!!!&lt;br /&gt;It's tiring as hell and time consuming. I'd never imagine that I could actually finish the course. It's simply death defying.. haha.. This time of the year everyone will see dead tired, or i'm fucking tired, or OHHH FUCK!!! X-country!!.. Well I can't really complain coz i'm one of them too.. haha..&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since i Blogged.. I guess it makes it more stuff to say.. haha.. Rather than just yak about what really goes on daily which also could be quite retarded.. haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well about love.. It's a matter of time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the world continues to amaze me on what is going on. Haha..&lt;br /&gt;Ohh yesss.. The latest song that is coming out from Entertaining You Fools it's a very different type of song that we normally from. We generally play a happy, funky, jazzy type of songs. But This song is quite emotional. It's becoz of a bad day and i just decided to write it. But it's sorta raw type of song.. Like a side project, I could say this song is more to my side of emotions rather than navo so i would say it's not really the band's official song. But if we record it, we'll put it up.. haha.. Well  I guess that'd be all..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will  blog more later on about girls.. haha..&lt;br /&gt;Fathin!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohh yes btw.. Sheela if you're reading this.. I'd like to say hi!!! And Since you're sick i want to say get well soon!!! hehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciaoz&lt;br /&gt;-B3N-&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-4462366438808236356?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4462366438808236356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4462366438808236356' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4462366438808236356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4462366438808236356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-more-fucking-up.html' title='No more fucking up'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-7944399028559135528</id><published>2008-12-21T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T08:25:13.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Complicated</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As the titles states itself... It's complicated to explain. But rather it's easier to express. It feels like which ever you choose has it's own complications.. No matter how easy or how hard it is.. There is complications. Time and time I ask myself what do I want, and what do I want to do with it. I know there can never ever be an again. Well I think so which is stated that it's most likely never going to be an again. Such shut down in life. But yet when it feels like a sharp knife jabs you in the heart so burningly hot, something else grabs you away from the pain and puts you into the comfort of it's bosoms. It feels so good and comfortable but yet you can't forget the complications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse, I can't decide now. The complications is something I can't forget, but yet the bosoms are so comfortable. And again another complication. It seem life just wants to fuck you up at every moment you find nirvana. Hurtful as it maybe to choose, my heart still yearns for my old memories of joy, laughter, warmness, love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So close but yet so far.&lt;br /&gt;What is it I truly want. I really don't know&lt;br /&gt;Complications&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-7944399028559135528?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/7944399028559135528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=7944399028559135528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7944399028559135528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7944399028559135528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/12/complicated.html' title='Complicated'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3681949441246886690</id><published>2008-12-09T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:17.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear of living</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Man it's scary to think about the future.. Yeah it's nice if everything goes well for you. Good career, Family, Financials and power.. Well If it doesn't go well. How fast would that smack you right in the face without you even knowing.&lt;br /&gt;Scary thoughts keep flowing into my head like a dam that just broke it's stability to hold the water on the other side. The only question now is what am I doing with my life?&lt;br /&gt;Ambitions to be what I want to be, but whether am I able to achieve it or even bother to achieve it. I can say right now I'm.. How do you say.. I'm not even sure how to put it to words.. But something like being not bothered, but at the same time I know what I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I like that? Too many things that distract me from my main focus in life. Or is it because I'm just not cut out to be it.&lt;br /&gt;Questions arise from everything I do.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe what my father said is right. Disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;Too scared to do anything right now. Even when I try to work on it, I fear that I lack too far behind. What happened to me? Where did the passion of the hardworkingness go to 4 years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why have I become so incapable.. I know the answer but yet I'm still unwilling to do anything to do about it.&lt;br /&gt;Man I'm just lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually quite scared what the future holds for me now. The future is something that I cannot see very clearly anymore. It's like something has blocked it, like an eclipse.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only thing to do is step it up. But unwillingness and laziness will always come by for a visit every now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-3681949441246886690?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3681949441246886690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3681949441246886690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3681949441246886690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3681949441246886690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/12/fear-of-living.html' title='Fear of living'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-7386684864465897545</id><published>2008-12-05T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T07:17:54.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a small world</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Man this world getting crowded. Some how and from somewhere everyone seems to know each other.. haha&lt;br /&gt;Friends knowing my family, and family knowing some friends. And what makes matters worse my parents know some of my friends before I even knew them.. haha.. This world will not cease to amaze me.&lt;br /&gt;Oi!! you all over there.. Yeah over there in Amsterdam.. You know me?? :D :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.. I seem quite hyper and not emo today.. haha.. Well It seems like i'm have a good day today.. Well I'm actually looking forward to something.. Haha.. Fun fun fun times to come!! :D... ROAR!! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have Fun mates!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-b9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-7386684864465897545?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/7386684864465897545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=7386684864465897545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7386684864465897545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7386684864465897545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/12/such-small-world.html' title='Such a small world'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4650579043553384586</id><published>2008-12-04T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:19:00.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truly enchanted.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Truly enchanted to finally know what it all means.&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't I realise it so so very long ago. The message was so loud and so clear, but worse of all it was so available.&lt;br /&gt;My own stupidity and own ignorance got the better of me.&lt;br /&gt;I finally truly know the true meaning of what I should have known a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regret is what fills me right now. Fuck fuck fuck!! Why didn't I realise it a long time ago. And yet she still asked me to... Damn..&lt;br /&gt;Now I ask myself what should I do. It's too goddamn late to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;When I had every opportunity to do something about, I just let it go so easily like a dandelion on a windy day. But yet still I think The dandelion tried to hold it's seeds better than I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Why WHY!!!!! Fuck!! Truly enchanted, Truly finally know the meaning.&lt;br /&gt;Though it sounds like i'm talking senseless shit, It all makes perfect sense in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have realised it when you told me to watch, to actually truly know how you were feeling. All too late and burnt with regret filled to the soul all the way to the heart, mind and body.&lt;br /&gt;For I know what it is truly to love someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-4650579043553384586?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4650579043553384586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4650579043553384586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4650579043553384586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4650579043553384586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/12/truly-enchanted.html' title='Truly enchanted.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-2687388063642094015</id><published>2008-12-02T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:48:32.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny you should say</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's been a very very long time since I wrote over here..&lt;br /&gt;Could say I'm really bored but more of you could say I need rant and express myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time again is moving really slow but yet the days moves on faster and fast.&lt;br /&gt;It seems as if the world wants to keep me impatient and at the same time regret things as they pass by really fast.&lt;br /&gt;I can say I'm slightly confused over my thoughts and feelings.&lt;br /&gt;What is going on right now?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it happening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;People getting hurt around me while the world goes on a killing spree around the world.&lt;br /&gt;How am I to worry about the worlds problems when I cant even solve my own problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where can she be?&lt;br /&gt;It's 12:42 right now but it feels like I've been awake 12 hours already.&lt;br /&gt;I miss her, I miss her terribly.&lt;br /&gt;But restrains to these feelings is killing slowly from the inside&lt;br /&gt;like a slow burning feeling that gains momentum until the pain is too excrutiating to bear.&lt;br /&gt;I scream silently in pain..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you now??&lt;br /&gt;I am like the sea, lost where the tides take me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-2687388063642094015?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/2687388063642094015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=2687388063642094015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2687388063642094015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2687388063642094015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/12/funny-you-should-say.html' title='Funny you should say'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-2518973556445959931</id><published>2008-06-05T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T19:45:03.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So far..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Every heart beat aches with something that hurts. Emotions blocked and clogged with a plug. Angels cry, demons wonder. Where are you and how are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B3N-&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/4120139007645911220-2518973556445959931?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/2518973556445959931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=2518973556445959931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2518973556445959931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2518973556445959931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-far.html' title='So far..'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3679650357709255804</id><published>2008-04-08T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T11:59:10.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always and forever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's the 9th..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-3679650357709255804?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3679650357709255804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3679650357709255804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3679650357709255804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3679650357709255804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/04/always-and-forever.html' title='Always and forever.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-5327805869367188083</id><published>2008-04-07T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T08:26:24.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So close yet so distant.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The sound of your voice is painted in my memory. Things change but memories will never. I'm trap in this memory and it painstakingly crushes every part of my body.&lt;br /&gt;When I am with you, I see so clearly, so brightly even when everything is so dark.&lt;br /&gt;I still see it when I close my eyes, but when you left. My vision is blurred. Things don't seem the way they seem to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rotten dust pours over the world, I try to hide, but it eventually finds me. It find my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions, my heart, my memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So close yet so distant. Close enough to see, to touch, to feel, to smell, to bite, but yet so far to do so. I think that is as far as I go. No where nearer. I've lost my place, I've lost your confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So distant. Further and further but yet my heart grows stronger.&lt;br /&gt;For you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-5327805869367188083?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/5327805869367188083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=5327805869367188083' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5327805869367188083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5327805869367188083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-close-yet-so-distant.html' title='So close yet so distant.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-6943043624176553906</id><published>2008-04-04T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T07:30:27.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Die trying..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;An on going process of visions passing through my head. Stop.. Stop.. I try to stop. But I've come to a point where it's just useless to resist. I guess the only option is to try again and die trying. What am I suppose to do.. Too many chances lost and too many chances taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I just walk on and try to go with the flow and hope for something to happen.? Or do I do something and try again. Clueless and lost from the point on the question.&lt;br /&gt;Looking at space praying the person up there not for chance but for guidance. It's kind of hypocritical of me to say I asked him for guidance as I'm not much of a religious person. However there comes to a point where I've no one to turn to but him. It's the wrong way, but I'd never want to bother him with my silly and pathetic problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problems after problems arise. It keeps coming like an eternal curse. How could I've been to blind to reject happiness.. Taking things for granted and not knowing the possible outcomes.&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself how could you've been so daft.. So stupid.. To give her up..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about it again, again and again. Until I just literally want to kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God give me strength for I need it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-6943043624176553906?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/6943043624176553906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=6943043624176553906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/6943043624176553906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/6943043624176553906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/04/die-trying.html' title='Die trying..'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-7893266181838670536</id><published>2008-04-01T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T07:01:16.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost without</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A stepping stone, progress, movements to no where. Frustration, confusion and regret colliding against each other. Missing the times and passion. As I thought it could not get any worst. An added spice in life was added. It's bland, sick and not good at all. I'm lost in my own world. Lost for no particular reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question is what to do now? Since I've come to a point where the path I take can never lead me back to the place where I started. Once entered never can I return. I stuck in transit. Confused on which way to take and which way should I take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many paths is too easy. Just choosing between two threatening paths with rocks and flowers confuses. Should I just let go, or should I continue to pursue. I don't deny I want to pursue. But should I? Do I still have what it takes to pursue. Answers change day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute and even second by seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love. I do. Intention to love. To care, to be the one by her side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should it be just a dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or should I make it a reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-7893266181838670536?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/7893266181838670536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=7893266181838670536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7893266181838670536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/7893266181838670536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/04/lost-without.html' title='Lost without'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4664468549860130619</id><published>2008-03-30T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T05:38:04.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Too many things has happened in the short period of limited time. It hurts to touch, it hurts to look, it hurts to feel, it hurts to smell, it hurts to hear, but no matter how much it hurts, I still have to go through it. Long has it stayed and slowed. Bear with the pain, thats what voices behind my head tell me. I listen to them, I'm just hoping my feet is still able to keep standing. First day and It's scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what you're doing, I've lost too many chances and have not even realize anything. Confusion and desperation mixing together. I have no idea what to do anymore. I'm lost and I'm scarred by a wound of regret. Too many times have it stuck to my head and been pinned down on me. I take full responsibility and I take all the blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've no idea. What to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B3N-&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/4120139007645911220-4664468549860130619?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4664468549860130619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4664468549860130619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4664468549860130619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4664468549860130619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/it-hurts.html' title='It hurts'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-6450440272042493500</id><published>2008-03-27T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T06:37:55.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burned.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Too many things happen too fast and too rapid. Though times will change though. Fault lies upon the line that makes it crooked. The changes causes conflict.. Maybe it should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B3N-&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/4120139007645911220-6450440272042493500?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/6450440272042493500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=6450440272042493500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/6450440272042493500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/6450440272042493500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/burned.html' title='Burned.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-5240766131473073983</id><published>2008-03-20T06:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T06:58:27.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anger!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Time comes time. Anger comes to anger. What the f**k you want from me. Take me away and now leave me in the trash can like a piece of sh!t. Well thank you.. I hope you had fun. Frustration and confusion comes together. But when confusion goes away. It's just going to be pain. It all makes sense now. The question you asked makes sense now. It's a clear picture hanging on the wall dangling around. You just never told me. The question you asked me was just to make sure that I'd be there if anything goes wrong..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.. boy.. you are so very smart there. You are very smart. And I even answered that pathetic 'yes' to you.. Oh you are indeed sly. Well I really am impressed by the question. Just right after things happened.. boom.. I'll let it lie for now. But when questions becomes to answers. You are gonna feel pain. For I've suffered too long..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's be better if you just told me the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't regret doing anything, Because I've nothing to live for anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B3N-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-5240766131473073983?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/5240766131473073983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=5240766131473073983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5240766131473073983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5240766131473073983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/anger.html' title='Anger!!'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-8566093732405476571</id><published>2008-03-18T06:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T07:04:49.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changed..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Facts still remain but the emotion has changed.. The way had changed... So much has changed,, I don't recognize it anymore. The feeling and the emotion is different. Why..?? Who are you? Where have you gone? The torment and torture, do you even know about them? Or not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long has it passed, the feeling that I once felt. Long time since I've felt the torment, that torture, but yet the feeling that I once loved. Gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways apart from that It's been a very tiring and long day. 100m, rugby, studies, my life, and yes the feeling.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has gone right in a very long time. Too long too remember, too long to feel. Time and time the feeling creeps up my body, I just push it down and isolate it in my pocket where I can no longer feel nor touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life could've been better, now it's just not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-8566093732405476571?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/8566093732405476571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=8566093732405476571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/8566093732405476571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/8566093732405476571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/changed.html' title='Changed..'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3845412835501773888</id><published>2008-03-15T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T19:28:25.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spinning round and round continously..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What a night... what a time... what a day.. what a night.. My head right now is spinning with excitement from last night.. You could say I am hung over... wooo What a night... Haha.. I finally did shisha.. which I found it to be nothing special.. Doesn't get you high nor does it feel fantastic.. oh well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drinking last night was awesome.. Bunch of us just sitting down in a room.. and Alvin just providing pure shots or black label.. Wow... crazy night.. Couldn't stop laughing and in the end I got my phone confiscated... Damn.. It's funny how my phone got confiscated but I guess It's due to me own stupidity.. haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't really remember Who I was talking to on the phone... Well I guess that person will come up to me and ask me.. Well I presume..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head is spinning so bad.. Typing this blog takes up a lot of concentration .. Woooo.. Feels kind of good.. haha.. Well next time I'll go out.. just you wait... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-3845412835501773888?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3845412835501773888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3845412835501773888' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3845412835501773888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3845412835501773888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/spinning-round-and-round-continously.html' title='Spinning round and round continously..'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-173214166517051317</id><published>2008-03-13T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T06:59:13.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The question why lies in my head so deep, it burns everything else. The thought of of it sends shiver down..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?? I ask you why??&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/4120139007645911220-173214166517051317?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/173214166517051317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=173214166517051317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/173214166517051317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/173214166517051317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4571754747196505165</id><published>2008-03-11T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T06:13:25.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days passed and yet I'm still here..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How long has it been since I felt the feeling. The feeling that once ran across my mind, soul and body.. I generate every hatred I can to cover the feeling to numb it from ever being expressed nor let out.. All because of a significant being I once called a rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The times that I felt that feeling has gone pass my body until it has just rejected every feeling of it.. I've numbed it so I don't every feel it or every see it again. I can't, I won't but I will.. Too many things conflict each other, too many ways bend around each other.. But One truth will remain, and that truth will be known when the time for it to come is to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to known a way to bend around, cover the corners and say things that don't come from my heart. A lie, A bluff, a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I do love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-4571754747196505165?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4571754747196505165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4571754747196505165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4571754747196505165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4571754747196505165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/days-passed-and-yet-im-still-here.html' title='Days passed and yet I&apos;m still here..'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3439872946391009480</id><published>2008-03-08T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T21:09:43.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumped across for you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Feeling sad, feeling down. The day that was suppose to be special has now passed away through the wind like a molecule moving at random motion. The feeling of no more has caused great pain and great.. well i really don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time won't heal, time will kill. Time is something now to heal my wounds but rather to suffocate me with it's great big hands that it holds. The feeling of suffocating and a burning searing pain on my chest cuts me down from something to nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something still keeps me going, a light that I do not hold but I still see keeps me standing on my own two feet instead of me being sky high.&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/4120139007645911220-3439872946391009480?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3439872946391009480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3439872946391009480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3439872946391009480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3439872946391009480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/jumped-across-for-you.html' title='Jumped across for you.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-2150700266781024243</id><published>2008-03-08T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T06:57:15.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life of music.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Though the music only lasted for 3 minutes, the feeling of music through the body flows around circulating the sense of my body. The feeling of flying, the feeling that the whole world would not care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sends of vibration but yet with the feeling of nervousness, The thrill to have sweat in your hands and feeling cold from the evaporating sweat from your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling gone with the flow of the beat, the feeling of trying to express your own expression with just listening and playing what your body and heart feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It recreates the sense of the soul, the mind and the body. The feeling of feeling invincible, god like. No emotions emote but the music is the emotion. Feels like a drug running through your system, going up and down driving you to the high edges of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pushing you to your limit, challenging you on the causes of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My music, My life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sense of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-2150700266781024243?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/2150700266781024243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=2150700266781024243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2150700266781024243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2150700266781024243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/life-of-music.html' title='Life of music.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4110709689942815045</id><published>2008-03-07T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T07:05:40.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish you love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wishing is all I can do for you. I wish you love for all the love that you will get and for the future that you have. The times and fun times we have..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-4110709689942815045?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4110709689942815045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4110709689942815045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4110709689942815045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4110709689942815045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-wish-you-love.html' title='I wish you love.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-4334972681639019670</id><published>2008-03-01T09:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T09:41:19.631-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching tear drops</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Caught, torn and broken. I'll catch the tear drops, hold it and tell you the pain that you feel. I'm lost between a void of unknowing and the knowing. I'm lost between my own mind and my own feelings. Have I lost it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving through my thoughts and the conscience part of what is left of my heart. I find the feeling of pain and sorrow exploding around my body. Being separated and isolated from the very source of what I want. The thought of not being able to roam the area of what I use to roam freely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I completely lost my mind over this matter? No I've not. But I've lost the will and power to ever feel the same way. I'll just be a statue that stand and looks, but never to feel, never to move, never to ever move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The solidified shape of my heart remains frozen until the very ice that freezes it breaks into shattered pieces of glass. To break it, I don't know. Should I be? Should I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be here just watching, just caring, just leaking little bits of my heart, piece by piece.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be the one that holds you together until the very day, you're able to move to another one. Until that day, I'll be here just watching. Just catching tear drops,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-4334972681639019670?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/4334972681639019670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=4334972681639019670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4334972681639019670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/4334972681639019670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/03/catching-tear-drops.html' title='Catching tear drops'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3282357355133846945</id><published>2008-02-29T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T22:59:59.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They say.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They tell me too many times, too many times that don't you think that I want to do it too?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think I like suffering, to tell you the truth just making me go, or telling me to go is what really hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who the F**k cares. I'm an insensitive bastard that is reluctant and stubborn to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For f**ksake!!!! DAMMIT!!! I WANT TO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-3282357355133846945?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3282357355133846945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3282357355133846945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3282357355133846945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3282357355133846945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/they-say.html' title='They say.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-2305905351877997170</id><published>2008-02-29T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T07:04:34.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Times</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What should I do? Where should I be? Is it really the end. I take my first step and I try to think about it. Have I really ruined the whole thing? Have I just ruined my whole chances. Have I lost the one thing that really matters the most? Have I lost it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to heal and time to move. Time, time, time, time. What is my time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to give you my time, and what is left of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But will you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-2305905351877997170?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/2305905351877997170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=2305905351877997170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2305905351877997170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/2305905351877997170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/times.html' title='Times'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-5501234804340792067</id><published>2008-02-28T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T07:15:09.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where am I going?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Where am I going? I seriously have no idea, nor the slightest clue. I want to choose a path but does the path want me? I really don't know. Sometimes you're left with an option you rather not take, but still you have to take, as you get ready to take it, you hesitate and you just freeze. Where am I going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be an exeat tomorrow, A short break from school. But seriously is it going to be a short break or is it just going to be a way to escape reality. One of these days it will hit me and tell me the truth. The truth is not what I'm afraid of, I'm more afraid of what is in the truth. There can be two things, one is good and the other one is bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit back here and start to think, How and why? 'The one' is the only question in my mind. What am I going to do or suppose to do. What is 'The one' thinking about. Does 'the one' still?&lt;br /&gt;All this probably don't make sense unless you're me, however if you've come to know what I'm talking about you'll understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times I just feel like bursting in to all my emotions and let out all the emotions that I am feeling right now. The feeling I'm missing the most is something you'll find deep down in the inner core of my breaking but yet frozen heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where am I going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are we going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n_&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/4120139007645911220-5501234804340792067?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/5501234804340792067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=5501234804340792067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5501234804340792067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/5501234804340792067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-am-i-going.html' title='Where am I going?'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-75754693462978277</id><published>2008-02-26T00:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T00:34:50.688-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What does it mean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Endless times have I felt so many hopes, and so many times have I been robbed of that feeling. Why? why? Something that makes me feel empty as a drum.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Noisy as my life may be, I can't deny that life without the 'one' is so different. One day maybe it'll be alright. Hopes are something for the skies. Free falling and free going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;However times that I may want to be free and fly with the wind smoothing against my whole body until there is antagonising freedom, it'll never happen. How I wish, for this feeling. But How i wish that feeling was with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've grown to be sick and tired and hopeful. But can I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We wouldn't know would we.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-B9514n_&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4120139007645911220-75754693462978277?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/75754693462978277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=75754693462978277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/75754693462978277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/75754693462978277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-does-it-mean.html' title='What does it mean?'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-8870579973401944344</id><published>2008-02-25T03:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T03:15:01.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day, another day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It feels funny to say another day yet another day. Things had been pretty hectic but yet I still stay calm. The funny thing why do I still presist to go for it? I want it, I do, but do I still have a chance? I miss oh so many things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss the smells, I miss the great green bench, I miss the touches, the cheekyness, the laughs, the talks, the eye contacts, the kisses, the chair, the feel, the love. Oh I miss so much more. The temptation. I won't deny that I still do want it in my heart so badly. But should I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Another day, but yet still another day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We'll just have to see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-B9514n_&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4120139007645911220-8870579973401944344?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/8870579973401944344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=8870579973401944344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/8870579973401944344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/8870579973401944344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/another-day-another-day.html' title='Another day, another day.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-998082263514149839</id><published>2008-02-23T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T18:05:32.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worries</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My heart breaks and ponders over the strange and unknown. It begins to make me want. I've not had a good night last night. All I thought was her, only her. I wanted to know, I want to be concern, but I wanted to be there with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed, I wept and I prayed so hard last night. I can't help to be concerned and to love. Should I just take it easy and continue or should I just do it and be gone with it. My mind ponders what I should do. She is in time of need and I should give her the need. But am I the person to give her that? That need, that care, that want, that love? Am i or should I be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I care right now if for her to stand her own two feet and continue walking. I won't deny nor lie. I want to love, but should I take it slow. I want to take it slow, but at the same time I want to love. Love for this 'one' person. She'll always be on my mind. Forever and ever and ever. For eternal life. This is the truth. For I can and I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B9514n-&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/4120139007645911220-998082263514149839?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/998082263514149839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=998082263514149839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/998082263514149839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/998082263514149839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/worries.html' title='Worries'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4120139007645911220.post-3220898838805616294</id><published>2008-02-22T01:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T01:34:07.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feels empty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Feels empty and sorrowful. Have I done something wrong? I believe that it was the right decision, but somehow it feels wrong. I just wish that I could fly away writing this. A void is missing from me, but I've to let the void be empty. It can only be filled by one. For reasons Should I keep it empty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does it hurt, why does it feel like a stone has been thrown in my head? I dunno why I let go, is this the right choice that I've made? I've already made it but yet I'm still thinking about it. It's been on my long lost mind wondering whether do I still love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emptiness is all I feel, All that i can feel right now. I will cross the endless seas just to find my happiness, just to be with my happiness. However my happiness is not there. It's gone with my heart. Feeling hurt just because I let my happiness go, is what happens to me most of the times anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strong, I may feel, weak at the same time. I feel confused but yet clear. I feel sad but yet happy, I just wish that I could drown myself in a solitude of no emotions. Sometimes love can do many confusing things that the mind presumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times when you've realize that what the 'one' really wants, it's too late to do anything. Something has to happen. My heart breaks every time this year. I don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;Life has been playing a fool on me. Life has been trying to make it very hard for me. As what Zhi Wei says 'shit happens'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So very true. I want to fill this void that is empty in my heart, I want to have my happiness, I want to have my ecstasy to be happy with it. I just want to kiss her lips, Hold her with my finger tips, I just want to hold her hand, try to make each other understand. Chances is all I ask, but should I ask for it. To ask for a chance is to ask to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart will not live long, My heart is dying. Growing weaker every second, every day. Should I let the 'one' suffer? Can she take it if I go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels Empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-B3n-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9514.&lt;br /&gt;&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/4120139007645911220-3220898838805616294?l=b9514n.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/feeds/3220898838805616294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4120139007645911220&amp;postID=3220898838805616294' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3220898838805616294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4120139007645911220/posts/default/3220898838805616294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://b9514n.blogspot.com/2008/02/feels-empty.html' title='Feels empty'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14204646917767380991</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OtJke-gy8O8/STYRCE3Vj1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZTiZeXorsEc/S220/n661270603_4528847_7331.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
