<?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-4070218518348513794</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:24:06.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-&gt; Mon Vie Histoire &lt;-</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-5184702280761788547</id><published>2008-08-13T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T11:34:19.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-Feelings-</title><content type='html'>As the waves crashes in,&lt;br /&gt;                       I feel myself drowning in a sea that seem so calming yet deadly,&lt;br /&gt;                                                      As i look around for help,&lt;br /&gt;                                                         I see blurry images,&lt;br /&gt;                                   How i wish a strong arm would just lift me out,&lt;br /&gt;                                                    As i drown deeper and deeper,&lt;br /&gt;                                       I feel the air supply cut off from my lungs,&lt;br /&gt;                     Shouting seems impossible right now, will it even make a difference?&lt;br /&gt;                                                    How did this even happened?&lt;br /&gt;                          Wait, how can i differenciate these tears as the water engulfs me?&lt;br /&gt;                                                        I can't seem to understand,&lt;br /&gt;                                                 Should i act as if nothing happened?&lt;br /&gt;                                              And put on a mask of joy and laughter,&lt;br /&gt;                            When i can actually feel the inside of me crumble to the ground,&lt;br /&gt;                                           As i look up to the light shinning through,&lt;br /&gt;                                        I see a cloud of hope with streams of despair,&lt;br /&gt;                                                      I surrender to the one above.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                Jesus Save Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-5184702280761788547?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/5184702280761788547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=5184702280761788547' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5184702280761788547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5184702280761788547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2008/08/feelings.html' title='-Feelings-'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-7621085513703753484</id><published>2007-11-08T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T20:36:32.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The rain is falling on my window pane...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RzPiuFzL3xI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cYJfdNf7_O8/s1600-h/cry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130693681963851538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="124" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RzPiuFzL3xI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cYJfdNf7_O8/s320/cry.jpg" width="146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Day pass by just as the wind sweep by,&lt;br /&gt;Meaningless or meaningful?&lt;br /&gt;No one truly knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes life so special?&lt;br /&gt;When what is seen is not always true,&lt;br /&gt;Does a picture truly show the truth?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe a shell to the truth,&lt;br /&gt;A cover up,&lt;br /&gt;A shield from the bitter truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why must pain hurt?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we bleed?&lt;br /&gt;Yet there’s no wound,&lt;br /&gt;A picture of a pain,&lt;br /&gt;Without an obvious scar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing out loud,&lt;br /&gt;Crying inside, softly,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How can anyone truely know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The rain is falling on my window pane. As I look out I see the world pass by yet I feel the moment stand still. The time silenced, paused as I stand there wondering how life has truly changed. How the choices we make in life has truly affected us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay down to sleep every night, I wished I could just close my eyes and drift off to a land where pain and hurt exist not. A place I could be truly who I am. Am I who I truly am or has the world, people, circumstances around me changed me to become someone I myself hardly know anymore? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-7621085513703753484?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/7621085513703753484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=7621085513703753484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/7621085513703753484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/7621085513703753484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/11/rain-is-falling-on-my-window-pane.html' title='The rain is falling on my window pane...'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RzPiuFzL3xI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cYJfdNf7_O8/s72-c/cry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-5618049239544215006</id><published>2007-11-05T03:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T04:24:49.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homesick..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129327640035364658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="100" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Ry8IT_DmjzI/AAAAAAAAABs/Iy3KxPbNgMk/s320/Homesick+2.jpg" width="129" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Homesick is the distress or impairment caused by an actual or anticipated separation from the specific &lt;a title="Home" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Home"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Social environment" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_environment"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;environment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; or attachment objects. Feelings of longing are often accompanied by anxiety and depression. These symptoms may range from mild to severe.&lt;br /&gt;That’s the definition given by the Wikipedia encyclopedia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people around us experience it in some moments in our life but why some much more than others? Are they too attached to their family or is it just a mental state of the mind? I believe that is just depends on the individual themselves. Some are brought up closely attach to their parents and loved one but does that really justify their reasons? What about those in the same situation but are able to withstand the temptation of jumping onto the next bus home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe those people are just pampered from young or could not withstand the stress and problems in life. Thus, they retreat back home in order to obtain comfort and assurance but is this healthy? What about when they are left alone in this world? What would happen to them then? Will they be able to endure it all? Or resort to disturbing endings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129323357952970530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 114px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 204px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="150" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Ry8EavDmjyI/AAAAAAAAABk/sZBjHmZL-4Y/s320/Homesick.jpg" width="93" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On the other hand, what about those who do not get homesick? Or at least they get over it in a considerable or normal time length. I believe they are the stronger people in life who are able to go through life challenges without withering or faulting. They would be the ones most outstanding and able to look fear in the eye and smile.&lt;br /&gt;Yupz…That’s what I think. :)  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-5618049239544215006?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/5618049239544215006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=5618049239544215006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5618049239544215006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5618049239544215006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/11/homesick.html' title='Homesick..'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Ry8IT_DmjzI/AAAAAAAAABs/Iy3KxPbNgMk/s72-c/Homesick+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-5846892548959316730</id><published>2007-11-01T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T01:17:16.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blurry....</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127779510483586834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 177px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="124" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RymIS_DmjxI/AAAAAAAAABc/e27emeLtY8A/s320/images2.jpg" width="167" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why everything does seem so wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Suppose to be doing what ought too but not able to move on.&lt;br /&gt;Always trying to please others but what about one?&lt;br /&gt;Doing right, doing truth, doing positive truths?&lt;br /&gt;Hard to stop, hard to change, hard to remove a stain,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling dumb, knowing truth but what is holding back?&lt;br /&gt;Feeling bad, feeling sad or just regret?&lt;br /&gt;Moving on in faith maybe that’s all I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for change, time to exchange one friend,&lt;br /&gt;Does hope lies in return for respect?&lt;br /&gt;What are friends where none are seen?&lt;br /&gt;Hope and regret remains constant,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting fine, acting right,&lt;br /&gt;Acting like there’s no pain inside,&lt;br /&gt;But who knows, who cares,&lt;br /&gt;That all not alien to me. Not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is said is not meant,&lt;br /&gt;What is shown in not felt,&lt;br /&gt;What is heard is not said,&lt;br /&gt;Can words say more than it meant?&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/4070218518348513794-5846892548959316730?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/5846892548959316730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=5846892548959316730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5846892548959316730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5846892548959316730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/11/blurry.html' title='Blurry....'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RymIS_DmjxI/AAAAAAAAABc/e27emeLtY8A/s72-c/images2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-5554540723367468362</id><published>2007-10-29T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T23:06:57.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Rya8_PDmjuI/AAAAAAAAABE/Nxk4av2nWC4/s1600-h/CAO9UNOH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126993020367310562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="189" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Rya8_PDmjuI/AAAAAAAAABE/Nxk4av2nWC4/s320/CAO9UNOH.jpg" width="84" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is full of choices we have to make and the result of it in which we have to bear. The right choices leads to a favorable outcome where else the opposite is fatalistic. It might be too harsh but then again a small mistake may lead to a mountain of regrets.&lt;br /&gt;I used to love this poem, “Life Brief Candle” by Shakespeare in his play Macbeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;Creeps in this petty pace from day to day&lt;br /&gt;To the last syllable of recorded time,&lt;br /&gt;And all our yesterdays have lighted fools&lt;br /&gt;The way to dusty death.&lt;br /&gt;Out, out, brief candle!&lt;br /&gt;Life's but a walking shadow,&lt;br /&gt;a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stage&lt;br /&gt;And then is heard no more;&lt;br /&gt;it is a taleTold by an idiot,&lt;br /&gt; full of sound and fury,&lt;br /&gt;Signifying nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it sounds like some suicidal person with no hope Nor future in life but then again, maybe by not making an impact with the life that we’re bless with leaves it meaningless and empty. We are all here for a purpose, each playing his/her significant part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127002198712422130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="127" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RybFVfDmjvI/AAAAAAAAABM/ajVjaUch28o/s320/images...................jpg" width="156" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes what others feels mean more to us then what we ourselves feel. To me life isn’t about “me” and “I” but about others. Putting God first, others second, and yourself third. I dun get it when there are movies of people hurting and killing others. How can one actually take seeing someone in pain, suffering there while you do nothing and just look on? Have our hearts grown cold? Maybe the times have changed, circumstances are not like before. For example, if one sees a beggar at a road side; in the old days most people would come up to him and offer help, money and nurse that person back to health. But in our modern day today, for all we know he might be armed and as soon as we shown a little concern there go the gun triggered right at our face or in a better “so called” situation that “beggar” will be the one robbing us. So then again, what we are now is not the true nature of who we are. Circumstances trigger us to become the way we are now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127002417755754242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="104" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RybFiPDmjwI/AAAAAAAAABU/KgP4nsjwBCQ/s320/hate.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the issue of trust, it’s hard to leave someone you can trust when you know there are countless people out there who have betrayed your trust. Does that then mean that we ought not to trust anyone anymore? I guess it just takes time and support. How can we become someone better when so many things had happened in our lives before? It does influence us to some extent. Some wear a mask to conceal their true nature, identity in order to protect them from being hurt again. Some, stronger ones are able to overcome it and move on with life. Why is it that some scars heals while others seems to be healing but then the stitches tear and blood oozes out again. Sometimes it would be better to have a heart of stone in which one can never be hurt. Isn’t it better not to feel when mostly what we feel is pain more than love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-5554540723367468362?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/5554540723367468362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=5554540723367468362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5554540723367468362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/5554540723367468362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/10/randomness.html' title='Randomness...'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/Rya8_PDmjuI/AAAAAAAAABE/Nxk4av2nWC4/s72-c/CAO9UNOH.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-392207036828958624</id><published>2007-10-28T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T22:48:28.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Songs with Meaningz..</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Utada Hikaru- Simple and Clean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we are older you'll understand what I meant&lt;br /&gt;when I said no I don't think life is quite that simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you walk away&lt;br /&gt;you don't hear me say&lt;br /&gt;please, oh baby don't go&lt;br /&gt;simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight&lt;br /&gt;it's hard to let it go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the daily things that keep us all busy are confusing me&lt;br /&gt;that's when you came to me&lt;br /&gt; and said wish I could prove I love you&lt;br /&gt; but does that mean I have to walk on water&lt;br /&gt;when we are older you'll understand it's enough&lt;br /&gt;when i say so, and maybe some things are that simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hold me, whatever lies beyond this morning&lt;br /&gt; is a little later on&lt;br /&gt;reguardless of warnings&lt;br /&gt;the future doesn't scare me at all&lt;br /&gt; nothing's like before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Jay Sean- Stolen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were my eyes when i couldn't see,&lt;br /&gt;you were my air when i couldn't breathe,&lt;br /&gt;but you always knew what you meant to me,&lt;br /&gt;You were my strength when i was down,&lt;br /&gt;and you made me humble when i wouldn't bow,&lt;br /&gt;I held on to your promise that you'd be around,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where were you when i was alright,&lt;br /&gt;tell me, did you knew I was alright,&lt;br /&gt;you, left me thinking I'd be alright,&lt;br /&gt;wont you come back to me,&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh..It's crazy but i'm falling apart,&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy how your leaving me scarred,&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy girl wherever you are,&lt;br /&gt;you stole, my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;(Stolen)....Just like a moment.&lt;br /&gt;(Stolen)you never owned it,&lt;br /&gt;(Stolen)you took away my heart,&lt;br /&gt;No man can live without blood running through his veins,&lt;br /&gt;and it's hard to remember the summer now here is rain&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how much longer that i can wait&lt;br /&gt;It's a thin line... between love and hate,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy but i'm falling apart,&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy how your leaving me scarred,&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy girl wherever you are,&lt;br /&gt;you stole, my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy but I'm going insane,&lt;br /&gt;feeling lost confused and ashamed,&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy, hope your feeling my pain,&lt;br /&gt;you stole, my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-392207036828958624?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/392207036828958624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=392207036828958624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/392207036828958624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/392207036828958624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/10/songs-with-meaningz.html' title='Songs with Meaningz..'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-6836296709361802756</id><published>2007-10-28T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T18:38:40.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions,,,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyU4XPDmjqI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pw2RxcX6res/s1600-h/images2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126565722660966050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="149" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyU4XPDmjqI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pw2RxcX6res/s320/images2.jpg" width="142" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is full of questions, uncertainty, confusion and delusions to name some. What is the purpose of trials and tribulations? What if instead of growing on stronger, we fall lower than before? What then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some of the questions in life where no one really knows the answers to except God. But then again God speaks through various ways to different people. Some through the word, circumstances, people around you and only a handful directly. If the answer just came like that, “straight” wouldn’t that be easier? But wait some may say that then there would be no fun, no need for God in the first place but then again the whole point of having a problem required God to be there to help u answer and get through it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126566418445668018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="127" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyU4_vDmjrI/AAAAAAAAAAs/47PqorFcI_4/s320/images.jpg" width="118" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Decisions are one of the scariest things in life. What if we make the wrong decisions? What if it was faulty? Influenced? Selfish? Not sincere decision? Wouldn’t it better then not to answer and leave things as they are till the real answer is found?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some may conclude it, well, life is complicated. Well, is it? Or do we ourselves make it that way? What if our heart feels things that our mind is too afraid or unsure to act own. Sometimes we know ourselves what we ought to do but we need a little push, nudge to actually act upon it. What is we’re afraid to fall in love cause we know that the love that we long for could never be found in anyone. Maybe too much expectance, too high hopes. People say “Things are not always what it seems”. Well, then what are they? Worst? Better? Is what felt by the heart right? Or is it better to act upon logic and proper calculations? Is our life that objective? If it is then why do people have emotions? We would not be humans without it, now wouldn’t we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I do realized there’s more questions than actual answers or any answers to begin with. Like i always say, everyone is entitled to their their own views. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-6836296709361802756?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/6836296709361802756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=6836296709361802756' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/6836296709361802756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/6836296709361802756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/10/questions.html' title='Questions,,,'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyU4XPDmjqI/AAAAAAAAAAk/pw2RxcX6res/s72-c/images2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4070218518348513794.post-1856882094145833416</id><published>2007-10-26T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T06:31:44.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unexpected.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyHjkfDmjoI/AAAAAAAAAAU/B6WEc-5dnzY/s1600-h/LIsten+in+silence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125628066875739778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyHjkfDmjoI/AAAAAAAAAAU/B6WEc-5dnzY/s320/LIsten+in+silence.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes…It’s my first ever post and many more to come. I wonder why at the most oddest time people get inspired to do the weirdest things. Like today had my exam which resulted in a hill sadness covered with a topping of depression, sprinkled with raisins of worries. No idea how the road did twist and turn ended up in me suddenly being inspired to start a blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125634363297795730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="157" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyHpS_DmjpI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9ZNJOXTgnqI/s320/Wow.jpg" width="147" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love poems so here goes some I thought of penning down. They say that poems differ from one to the other, each grasping their own meaning, interpretation of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days roll by like the wind,&lt;br /&gt;Inadequate to hold its profound meanings,&lt;br /&gt;As it tries to grasp a second of bliss,&lt;br /&gt;Cascades instead into a pit,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why console the unchanged,&lt;br /&gt;For where hope lies, dream vanish,&lt;br /&gt;Breathe in a breath of dreams,&lt;br /&gt;Covered in an illusion unseen,&lt;br /&gt;For where vision lives, time remains.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meaning?&lt;br /&gt;Well, let’s just figure it out for our own as everyone is entitled for their own opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyHiu_DmjnI/AAAAAAAAAAM/w6H4hUr_eRk/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4070218518348513794-1856882094145833416?l=asvinder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/feeds/1856882094145833416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4070218518348513794&amp;postID=1856882094145833416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/1856882094145833416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4070218518348513794/posts/default/1856882094145833416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://asvinder.blogspot.com/2007/10/unexpected.html' title='Unexpected.'/><author><name>-&amp;gt;Asvin&amp;lt;-</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04965820746840657174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1COTxff4NyI/RyHjkfDmjoI/AAAAAAAAAAU/B6WEc-5dnzY/s72-c/LIsten+in+silence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
