<?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-8476566</id><updated>2012-01-25T13:40:05.898+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva forever...</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a home for my heart...a distant refuge for my spirit, away from the madding crowd and the masquerades that we live. This is where everything is unveiled and nothing is compromised.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>737</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1924740174287763819</id><published>2010-12-22T14:33:00.006+11:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T21:17:30.055+11:00</updated><title type='text'>An Evening With My Memory..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TRA7NmOnIkI/AAAAAAAAHjw/OEUVksbd7S4/s1600/rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553003445333992002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TRA7NmOnIkI/AAAAAAAAHjw/OEUVksbd7S4/s400/rose.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Somewhere in the world tonight, there's no fighting. Somewhere in the world tonight, there's no crying, there's no fear. Somewhere in the world tonight, someone's holding their first child, someone else is falling in love for the first time. &lt;strong&gt;Somewhere in the world tonight, everything's alright.&lt;/strong&gt; And tonight, in this tiny corner that I occupy in this big wide space called Earth, Im thinking of you..and because of my memory of you, somewhere in my world tonight, everything's alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Time does not wait for anyone or anything. Time does not hesitate. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*tick tock tick tock tick tock*&lt;/span&gt; Time keeps going, it never stops. Time sure knows how to say NO! I've learnt from Time that no matter what has happened, is happening or will happen, I must 'keep going forward'..I must go forward, no matter how much I love looking back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Time is a precious commodity, but do we really value it or give it the sense of respect it so deserves? Time, though sometimes may appear to be selfish as it leads the race, leaving us torn between the past and the present, finding it hard to trudge along to the future, Time sure does heal us all. That's the beauty about Time. That's the kindest quality about Time. That's what we all need so very much. A Time to heal. And that Time can only come with time. How ironic! &lt;strong&gt;The past is the skeleton that Time left behind. The present is Time's new avatar. The future is Time's surety of reincarnation.&lt;/strong&gt; But in all 3 forms of progression of Time's soul, we are being taught the beautiful lesson of learning from our experiences, therefore, Healing. And that can only come from '&lt;strong&gt;reminiscing' &lt;/strong&gt;without attachment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Memory is Time's offspring. Time leaves us with it's product that we cant kill and nobody can snatch from us either, no matter how far we've travelled with Time itself. Some memories may bring you pain, some others solace. Either way, your Memory is your richest possession; your mind's most beautiful accessory. For if not for memories, it would not have occurred to me that a post in one of my favorite places on Earth &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Blogville*&lt;/span&gt; is overdue :) Yes, I'm here today, because Time's child Memory ushered me to you. Sweet memories of you happen to meet me today and remind me that there's a lovely bunch of people waiting to read me, wanting to hear from me, wondering how I am, thinking of me, all because of Time's child that lived inside of you too. Memories, they make us who we are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I hope you are all doing well. I have not forgotten you, for my Memory shall always bring me back to you. &lt;strong&gt;Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year to you all!&lt;/strong&gt; Life's going great for me &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*except that I was recently bitten by a venomous spider! But Im ok dont worry :) Threw a huge tanty but Im back to normal now haha!*&lt;/span&gt;, and I hope all is well with you too? Thanks for all the wishes, thoughts, notes, emails, messages and most of all for the endless LOVE here from your comments even though Im not into regular blogging anymore. I will try and hop around Blogville sometime soon :). &lt;strong&gt;Value, respect, love &amp;amp; appreciate Time. For Time is where we all live forever, be it the past, present or future; not anywhere else. Time is where we breathe, where we can truly reconnect, where we can undoubtedly go back to our lovedones, where fresh moments are born and where they continue to live. Time is where we exist - we 'live' in a blob of Time that once used to be, is and will always be&lt;/strong&gt;. I believe there's a 'place' where we can wave goodbye to our fears and tears, atleast for a little while; Moments &amp;amp; Memory...Time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;2011 is at birth..reincarnation of 2010 &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*and of many years that were it's past lives*.&lt;/span&gt; Have a wonderful 'time', create beautiful 'memories', and dont forget to be inspired by Time and 'keep going forward'!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~An Evening With My Memory, December 2010~&lt;/strong&gt; this post was written in 10mins after &lt;strong&gt;Joyce&lt;/strong&gt; sent me an email asking me to write a post for her to start the New Year with...I hope it hasnt got too many typos, grammar mistakes &amp;amp; too much of advice :) Thanks Joyce for your wonderful and undying encouragement, for your Memory of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Somewhere in the world tonight&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Altiyan Childs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1924740174287763819?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1924740174287763819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1924740174287763819' title='41 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1924740174287763819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1924740174287763819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/evening-with-my-memory.html' title='An Evening With My Memory..'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TRA7NmOnIkI/AAAAAAAAHjw/OEUVksbd7S4/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>41</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-2617795789969674816</id><published>2010-07-06T10:56:00.006+10:30</published><updated>2010-07-06T13:19:50.804+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Revelations Of An Afterlife..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TDKPgL3FHiI/AAAAAAAAHjg/vUiVkPJU-Lw/s1600/rd1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490608678820453922" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TDKPgL3FHiI/AAAAAAAAHjg/vUiVkPJU-Lw/s320/rd1.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TDKK4dGAQjI/AAAAAAAAHjQ/i8Jn_GhWq_g/s1600/afterlife-poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In an Afterlife.&lt;/strong&gt; Once upon a lifetime, I used to live in a place called the 'world'. Over there, we could 'say' but most people only 'talked'. We could 'listen' but most people only 'heard'. We could 'see' but most folks just 'looked'. In that world, there were so many avenues for growth...so many signs placed on our roads of life, by God...omens were the the only language God spoke...not English, not Hebrew. It was 'omens'. &lt;strong&gt;God's language was the signs and the experiences we encountered along the road of life. &lt;/strong&gt;But people over there are so buried in their own worlds, in their 'chase', they hardly saw God's signs or the symbols he left along their roads. The experiences, the encounters, the other people they met...they forgot to 'see' them..cos they only 'looked'. When good experiences were met, they were overjoyed, they only thought of the pleasure it gave them. They missed the golden lessons that came with it, that were carefully placed by God, like the delicious bits of nuts and fruit hidden beneath a cake. People only noticed the top layer, like the icing on a cake...like the little sugar figurines that captured their eyes, not the imagination. They forgot to see the bigger picture of it all&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;that with good things in life we should grow humility, generosity, compassion, understanding and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Most people there don't seem to know that &lt;strong&gt;we may 'succeed' many times in life but we are not a 'success' until we share it with everyone else around us.&lt;/strong&gt; Joy that's not shared isnt joy at all. And when they encountered bad experiences along the road, people were so miserable..they cursed God...they asked why me. Again, they missed the precious lessons that came with it. They only saw the bottom layer this time, like the pits of a dark dungeon...like the burning sensation of a fire that only captured their immediate senses, but not their souls. They forgot to see the greater outcome of it all&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;that with bad things that happen to us in life, we should grow patience, hope, positivity and beauty of the heart.&lt;/span&gt; Most people there don't seem to know that &lt;strong&gt;we may 'fail' many times in life but we don't become a 'failure' until we blame somebody else&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;for it&lt;/strong&gt;...that accountability should stand tall in all situations.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;God places 'items' along the road of life. Those items maybe the people we meet, the experiences we encounter and the ups and downs we go through in life. All of them happen to us for a reason...yes all of it. Even if some people leave us for good or some encounters leave us emotionally crippled..&lt;strong&gt;you and I met because we were meant to cross each others' paths to attend to a deep need in each other...to be there for each other at a difficult time...to awaken each others' spirits and unleash our souls.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It doesn't matter that we are not together anymore...our purpose has been accomplished, our need has been met. &lt;/span&gt;God places 'items' along the road of life. The beautiful rose has thorns..the ugly duckling may possess the prettiest heart..the rocky road can lead to the most beautiful lake..the toothy child brought out the kid in me..the friend who never spoke to me again taught me Destiny..the flowers by the lake showed me character and patience through day and night. May all your future encounters leave you wiser than ever before! In life we look...in death we see, and I did. Life is a symptom...death is a cure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Keshi, July 2010, 'Revelations Of An Afterlife'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Written as a heartfelt &amp;amp; most honored tribute to&lt;strong&gt; Ria, Mehreen, Margie, Joyce &amp;amp; Shachi&lt;/strong&gt;. 5 beautiful flowers God had placed along the path of my life..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current Video:&lt;/strong&gt; People come into your life for a reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-2617795789969674816?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2617795789969674816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=2617795789969674816' title='117 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2617795789969674816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2617795789969674816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/revelations-of-afterlife.html' title='Revelations Of An Afterlife..'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/TDKPgL3FHiI/AAAAAAAAHjg/vUiVkPJU-Lw/s72-c/rd1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>117</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5762683224328651605</id><published>2010-01-08T10:20:00.029+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T15:51:10.247+11:00</updated><title type='text'>The Life In Your Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/S0cYFAEMX7I/AAAAAAAAHjI/124zyERIrcI/s1600-h/angel.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424330750387052466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/S0cYFAEMX7I/AAAAAAAAHjI/124zyERIrcI/s320/angel.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It's right there, infront of my eyes. I can see it, feel it, hear it. It's in my hands. It's your heart...pounding, fighting to live, to breathe...to see another day. It's bleeding but it's still beating. Not yet dead, but not alive either. Your pain is in my hands. I can feel it but I feel useless. I just stand and stare at how your heart is struggling in my hands, your life beckoning to me. I try to bend your pain, but there are no shortcuts for that...pain is one long freeway that isn't really free. It costs you your heart and soul, but there's nothing that can be done. &lt;strong&gt;There's so much left to learn but not enough time. There's so much left to see, but not enough sun.&lt;/strong&gt; I wish I could take your pain away and make you smile. Wish I could catch you when you fall. I wanna be your breath. I wanna let you live. I wanna be the air that you breathe...the courage in your will to live...the wings in your prison. I wanna be that last few pangs of life that's left in you. &lt;strong&gt;I wanna be the Red in your Black...the Life in your Death.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-An ode to my Writing passion that's faded into faraway memories. Goodbye my love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Music: &lt;strong&gt;Fade Away&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Seether&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5762683224328651605?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5762683224328651605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5762683224328651605' title='180 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5762683224328651605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5762683224328651605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/life-in-your-death.html' title='The Life In Your Death'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/S0cYFAEMX7I/AAAAAAAAHjI/124zyERIrcI/s72-c/angel.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>180</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-8416031006350518948</id><published>2009-12-29T09:25:00.049+11:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T16:57:02.416+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning With Desire For A Kiss...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sz2jXFIj_5I/AAAAAAAAHjA/hmUUqlDqvwo/s1600-h/IMG_0283.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421669143334354834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sz2jXFIj_5I/AAAAAAAAHjA/hmUUqlDqvwo/s320/IMG_0283.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Szk1GRBd9hI/AAAAAAAAHi4/sDy6XHs3cpI/s1600-h/ny.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The richest of people could be living the poorest of lives. The most beautiful of all could be having the ugliest of minds. The quietest of all could make the loudest of impressions. The brightest of all could be walking the darkest of paths. The happiest of all could be bearing the saddest of burdens. The grass isn't always greener on the other side, as it may seem. Be content with who you are and what you have.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;[&lt;strong&gt;pic update:&lt;/strong&gt; one of the many pics I took on NY's eve at the Sydney harbor - 2010 is in dawn!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We are all awaiting the kiss of 2010...burning with desire for a kiss...a kiss of new dawn. Let this fresh dawn be the change you were waiting for. Do not seek for others to change, cos it will take forever. Make the change within you. Let the world around look at you and want to be like you. Live the life you want to see others living. Be the example that others are waiting for. Don't search for a guiding light, be the guiding light yourself. &lt;strong&gt;Don't wait for me forever...find 'yourself'. &lt;/strong&gt;Lead yourself in the dark when everyone else is sleeping or not within your reach. Be the light in the mist around you...&lt;strong&gt;be the question and be the solution too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see you burning with desire for a kiss.... Find new depths in you that you never knew of...anything is possible if you give it a TRY. Don't let anyone tell you that you cant do something or that you're not upto it. You are who you CAN and WANT to be, not what they want you to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY 2010 my mates here!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;May it be the new dawn you were waiting for. &lt;/strong&gt;What a year 2009 has been...it was the one I decided to stop blogging...and twas the one in which MJ died - what could be worse than that. I think 2009 was blue for me in alot of ways. 2010...well I have some travel plans and I'm hoping to take a big step in one aspect of my life. I'm gonna take that risk cos &lt;strong&gt;I'm the only one who can change my own life&lt;/strong&gt;. Also 2010 could be one without me here like I used to, but it would certainly be one with alot of new 'kisses' for ya and me, I hope. Kisses of new revelations...so all the best to everyone here! I'm gonna rock it on NY's eve in the Sydney harbour &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*mobile will be switched off hehe ;-)*&lt;/span&gt;. I hope you have alot of exciting plans too. &lt;strong&gt;Live life to the max people&lt;/strong&gt; - and that doesn't mean drink and dance only...it so desperately means &lt;strong&gt;LOVE all no matter what,&lt;/strong&gt; cos I think that's what alot of us find so hard to do. TC too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm burning with desire for a kiss...psychobabble all upon my lips... XOXOXO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Music:&lt;strong&gt; Tigerlily &lt;/strong&gt;by&lt;strong&gt; La Roux&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-8416031006350518948?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8416031006350518948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=8416031006350518948' title='103 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8416031006350518948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8416031006350518948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/burning-with-desire-for-kiss.html' title='Burning With Desire For A &lt;em&gt;Kiss&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sz2jXFIj_5I/AAAAAAAAHjA/hmUUqlDqvwo/s72-c/IMG_0283.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>103</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7064755155444269249</id><published>2009-12-18T16:25:00.023+11:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T12:04:13.950+11:00</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas Memory...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SysS_7aDiZI/AAAAAAAAHiw/ZQpAVyf6FII/s1600-h/tree.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416443866331187602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SysS_7aDiZI/AAAAAAAAHiw/ZQpAVyf6FII/s400/tree.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wishing all my friends here a very merry Christmas and an awesome 2010! Miss yous like crazy. Tis the season of peace, love and joy, and it's the time for thinking of all the beautiful people who made my life 'meaningful' and 'possible'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for all the sweet messages here though I'm not around as I used to be. &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It's not in our accolades or in our assets or in our beauty...&lt;strong&gt;but to be in someone's warmest thoughts is the highest 'milestone' any man can ever reach.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So, thank you from the bottom of my heart for remembering me! Though I'm not around as much as I'd like to be, you are all in my heart, and yes I remember you all too fondly. I can't and won't forget the magic you all brought to my life and the meaning you gave to it. Sometimes I stop and think of each one of you over a warm cuppa, and then my lips slightly part and I'm smiling :). Love ya, take care, and have a safe and good one! May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace to you and yours this holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MWAH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Music: &lt;strong&gt;White Christmas&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Rascal Flatts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7064755155444269249?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7064755155444269249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7064755155444269249' title='67 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7064755155444269249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7064755155444269249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-memory.html' title='A Christmas &lt;em&gt;Memory&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SysS_7aDiZI/AAAAAAAAHiw/ZQpAVyf6FII/s72-c/tree.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>67</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7417586183102350</id><published>2009-10-19T14:55:00.100+11:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T10:54:34.646+11:00</updated><title type='text'>The Candy House</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv3U-M28AI/AAAAAAAAHhU/sPjFkHaGU78/s1600-h/cn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394176918372675586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 253px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv3U-M28AI/AAAAAAAAHhU/sPjFkHaGU78/s320/cn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv2goC1omI/AAAAAAAAHhM/2hrWTOXiZUk/s1600-h/can1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/StvoVU6mfaI/AAAAAAAAHg0/2o41z5A_BT0/s1600-h/cn.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm reaching for it, slowly but surely. The enormity of it's beauty is distinct, and is just verbally inexpressible. O I want to go, I want to go! I want all the candies and I want to live in that sweet sweet 'house'. My life lacks all of what the Candy house can give me, please let me go in there, o please? All my white pebbbles are gone and all my breadcrumbs have been eaten, now I can't look back. This is what I have been waiting for all my days and all my nights. This is my one dream and I don't ever have to shed tears again. And I don't ever have to wake up to Nothing. I want to reach it, I want to reach it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6oifxoZLI/AAAAAAAAHiA/DQgRvXVJZzk/s1600-h/ks.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;o the many Candy 'houses' I have been to, the many 'gems and the many 'witches' I have come across in those houses, the many 'escapes' I have had, the many 'dreams' I have realised and the &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St-ebNIb-3I/AAAAAAAAHio/s3gAyeIiuio/s1600-h/redsss.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395205068831849330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St-ebNIb-3I/AAAAAAAAHio/s3gAyeIiuio/s320/redsss.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;great 'wealth' that has been &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6pLrH1bAI/AAAAAAAAHiI/mqiPG0LxVJQ/s1600-h/sww.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;brought to my life by &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6oifxoZLI/AAAAAAAAHiA/DQgRvXVJZzk/s1600-h/ks.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;stepping into those &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6oVaAysII/AAAAAAAAHh4/RhgIKXRkcUQ/s1600-h/sww.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'houses'. &lt;strong&gt;It's better to have reached your dreams and then &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv4l_FQt6I/AAAAAAAAHhk/RxeQh3IfjTA/s1600-h/ft7.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;have them broken, than never having reached them at all. It's better to have passed the gates of Hell than to lay in bed all day dreaming of Heaven.&lt;/strong&gt; It's better to have 'felt' what it really is like, than to have 'imagined' it all along..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv1ZAbaS-I/AAAAAAAAHhE/hZpTwUAZd2s/s1600-h/ft.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; Hi all, how are ya? :) Feels good to be here again after almost a month and a half. Thanks for all the comments, emails, msgs in the last few months! Though I have not replied to your recent comments here in my blog, I read them all and I'm deeply touched by the Love right along. Do not for even a second think that just cos I'm not regular in blogs anymore, that you are all out of my mind. Infact you are all in my heart all the time. Sometimes I wonder where you all may be, what you must be doing now etc. I have been extremely busy at work and at home too - alot of new beginnings etc. Life goes on as usual. I'm happy, I hope you are too. Time and our lives don't wait for anyone, and I'm taking Life as it comes towards me. Sometimes I sit by the window as I gaze the twilight skies and think about all the times we've spent together here, and it makes me smile. Blogville was another Candy House I guess. I loved the Stay and I learnt alot from it all. I don't regret a single thing. The 'wealth' it has brought &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv1ZAbaS-I/AAAAAAAAHhE/hZpTwUAZd2s/s1600-h/ft.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;to me is just priceless. The knowledge, the wisdom, the endurance, the love...I came face to face with it all, and gained all of that through my blog experience. It's unbelievable, it's magical. However, though I'm writing occasionally right now, I'm afraid I don't know how long this is going to last &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;either...somehow, the inclination to write is slowly fading away. Folks, I have no control of it. It's something that is happening &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv4KrssTUI/AAAAAAAAHhc/-P-Ble9w5Go/s1600-h/ft77.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;naturally and something that I cannot manipulate. I have always depended on my Instincts, when it comes to making decisions. So let them &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6i9v3x5RI/AAAAAAAAHhw/dd2v6WA8X0Y/s1600-h/cind1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394928585342575890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/St6i9v3x5RI/AAAAAAAAHhw/dd2v6WA8X0Y/s320/cind1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;guide me, like they always have. Depending on how I feel over the long haul, this blog may continue at a much slower pace or it may even cease to exist altogether. Either way let's hope the Love prevails. THANKS a bunch everyone I love ya all, God bless! Keep it real. X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Music: &lt;strong&gt;Red&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Daniel Merriweather&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7417586183102350?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7417586183102350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7417586183102350' title='216 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7417586183102350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7417586183102350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/candy-house.html' title='The Candy House'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Stv3U-M28AI/AAAAAAAAHhU/sPjFkHaGU78/s72-c/cn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>216</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1483857313446721955</id><published>2009-09-11T16:30:00.035+10:30</published><updated>2009-09-11T17:53:39.001+10:30</updated><title type='text'>In Utero</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sqn44qrM63I/AAAAAAAAHfE/hxNEiUYJnko/s1600-h/fl7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380104882282621810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sqn44qrM63I/AAAAAAAAHfE/hxNEiUYJnko/s320/fl7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm in this dark hole now. It's pretty though. It's the prettiest thing in my world right now. No light. Just sheer darkness and me. It's all good. Something keeps me wanting to live amidst all the chaos, all this death. No noise. No light. No clutter. No racing. No tears. No smiles. No one to let you down. No one to give you glory. No friends, therefore no enemies. Life in it's purest form, sitting right beside me, saying nothing, doing nothing...just being itself giving me silent glances, yet not beckoning me to do anything. Life and me, staring at the walls. No need to cry. No need to ask. No need to validate my thoughts. Not the faintest need to be acknowledged either. Not the smallest want to be wanted. I'm quite content with my beliefs that they need to be neither approved nor validated. I don't need your salutations either for they don't do anything to me anymore. I'm on the most content road ever. &lt;strong&gt;Im back in my mother's womb. I'm fresh and unaffected.&lt;/strong&gt; Humans are programmed to receive. But in that reception lives a huge lie. A giant fake. A humungous disappointment. Cos nothing is really forever. &lt;strong&gt;Nothing can be kept with you unless it's given to you by YOU.&lt;/strong&gt; Everything else is temporary. People, friends, words, promises, gifts, bonds...everything is nothing. They will all be consumed by Time and Nature some day. Is there something that won't be swallowed by Time? Is there something that won't be forsaken by a mere plethora of Expectations? The sense of peace I feel right now is surreal. One I never felt before. A territory I dared not tread before. It's amazing. I no longer suffer from the need to make or have friends. I'm quite 'blissed' out here. No one knows what they are here for, or the wheres or whys. No one cares what you have to say. There are echoes from a distant past, and I see lips moving...but nothing can really be heard in this dark hole. And it's good. I have forgotten to smile but I have forgotten to cry too. I don't remember your name but I remember your face. In this nothingness lies a real sense of peace. Once you're broken beyond repair, that's when you realise your full potential, your purest form, yourself. Until you're 'broken' you will never really know what it is to live without others...you will never really learn to live as 'you'. &lt;strong&gt;I'm somewhere between life and death, but I'm not with you.&lt;/strong&gt; In utero I shall remain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; An ode to my broken spirit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Music: &lt;strong&gt;Echoes&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Pink Floyd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1483857313446721955?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1483857313446721955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1483857313446721955' title='123 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1483857313446721955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1483857313446721955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-utero.html' title='In Utero'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sqn44qrM63I/AAAAAAAAHfE/hxNEiUYJnko/s72-c/fl7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>123</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6603643788950399704</id><published>2009-08-14T10:36:00.033+10:30</published><updated>2009-08-14T15:27:49.554+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Dream Is Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SoSurJF6KJI/AAAAAAAAHe8/4fBni2XCi00/s1600-h/gl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369608711930783890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SoSurJF6KJI/AAAAAAAAHe8/4fBni2XCi00/s320/gl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I know I put up a Goodbye post last night. However, I had to take it off for the only reason that reading it made some good friends and regular readers very sad. So it's not here anymore, cos I didn't want to appear selfish and break hearts along the way. &lt;strong&gt;But my thoughts about this place remain the same. &lt;/strong&gt;During my small break in the last few days I realised that this place has lost it's novelty for me, and I can no longer feel that sense of purity it once held. Neither do I feel like writing here anymore. I have lost that beautiful, exciting, 'wow' feeling that I get whenever I sit down to write a post, comment or read blogs. Everything seem to have lost it's genuine touch. Everyone (except very few) seem to have very quickly forgotten their own words, their own illusion. Some have moved on, some became strangers overnight, some are still here but seem not to know me anymore, some have made their blogs private without notice, some always keep in touch no matter what. Pretty much like the real world right? There used to be a time that I got all sad about such things. Not anymore. I don't feel a thing anymore, trust me. &lt;strong&gt;You can slap me on my face or kiss me gently, I'd just stand still.&lt;/strong&gt; What's happened to me? Guess I have become quite comfortably numb. I have become something I thought I'd never become. This used to be my passionate playground. I associated this place with my emotions, unlike most people did. I do connect with people here on a deeper level than just for the posts' sake. I'm not here just to blow my trumpet or to show you how I can write or to brag about my life. I am here in my full 'human' form, I gave my 100%. I don't draw lines with friends, I don't hold back when it comes to expressing and I don't suffer from 'selective' association. &lt;strong&gt;I'm not afraid of FEELING.&lt;/strong&gt; But I realise alot of people here are just for the experience...not to connect...they are here just to receive, but never to give. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And I do know that expecting everyone to be just like me is not fair.&lt;/span&gt; So how does a person like me live in a place that they don't seem to belong? God knows how I survived here for 5 long years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, to each his own. That's why I don't feel for this place anymore. It's become just another real world. Just like how a child grows into an adult, and ceases to see the magic around her, this place seem to have ceased to surprise me. Familiarity and predictability have moved in for good. The dream is gone. Now there is no pain, I am receding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music: &lt;strong&gt;Comfortably Numb&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Pink Floyd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-6603643788950399704?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6603643788950399704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6603643788950399704' title='158 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6603643788950399704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6603643788950399704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/dream-is-gone.html' title='The Dream Is Gone'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SoSurJF6KJI/AAAAAAAAHe8/4fBni2XCi00/s72-c/gl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>158</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-8892803123123485403</id><published>2009-08-07T14:27:00.105+10:30</published><updated>2009-08-13T20:30:15.878+10:30</updated><title type='text'>A Pretty Pink Road...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnvCARdDydI/AAAAAAAAHd8/P40pNf4ISsw/s1600-h/b7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367096690883152338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnvCARdDydI/AAAAAAAAHd8/P40pNf4ISsw/s200/b7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnumUGpej7I/AAAAAAAAHd0/xJ-Q4pcrWQU/s1600-h/b7.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see my destiny&lt;br /&gt;Peeking through the leaves...&lt;br /&gt;The clear blue skies&lt;br /&gt;And the pretty pink blooms...&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't you&lt;br /&gt;No it wasn't us&lt;br /&gt;What was meant to be&lt;br /&gt;Wont break the trust&lt;br /&gt;With my feet on sand&lt;br /&gt;My hopes on clouds...&lt;br /&gt;I try to walk away&lt;br /&gt;From all those doubts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;- An Ode To Blogville&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;(comments have been disabled for this post)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guys I need a break from Blogville, I'm sure you need one from me too! I will do my best to return but it all depends on how I feel. I need some time on my own...to deal with my demons. I need some peace, quiet and solitude. Til then, take care, be well and keep writing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; Don't worry, I'll check your blogs whenever I can. Thanks all my regular friends here who have never missed out on saying Hi to me, no matter how busy they are.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You rock!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; *HUGZ*&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Til we meet again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;I'm Moving On&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Rascal Flatts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-8892803123123485403?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8892803123123485403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8892803123123485403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/pretty-pink-road.html' title='A Pretty Pink Road...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnvCARdDydI/AAAAAAAAHd8/P40pNf4ISsw/s72-c/b7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-321956268938564426</id><published>2009-08-05T15:04:00.059+10:30</published><updated>2009-08-05T16:59:36.654+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Mortally Yours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkWGMxMsyI/AAAAAAAAHbc/9AyqupsRzYw/s1600-h/shad1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366344726751261474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkWGMxMsyI/AAAAAAAAHbc/9AyqupsRzYw/s320/shad1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember that innocent kid I was talking about from about 3 posts down..the one who committed suicide? Well here's the English article on her in the SL Sunday Times. Those who are interested in knowing about Anuththara's story, you can now read it&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://sundaytimes.lk/090802/News/news_19.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; It just made me realise how 2 different views of the same story can create so many misconceptions and judgements. The Sinhalese article talked ill of her. This English article was from her parents' point of view and it spoke so many good things about her, and many truths that we didn't know about this story and how the school failed to handle it. There you go. &lt;strong&gt;The world is made of 2 categories of people. One that would concentrate on positivity no matter what, and another that would do anything to spread negativity.&lt;/strong&gt; We should never just take sides and blabber away without hearing both sides of a story. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And when you write an article about a story, make sure you know all the facts of the story and that you're not just taking a side that goes with your beliefs.&lt;/span&gt; Are you a side-taker?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkcS5U3TjI/AAAAAAAAHbs/Z1uGzrcLL9o/s1600-h/k22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366351541940211250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkcS5U3TjI/AAAAAAAAHbs/Z1uGzrcLL9o/s320/k22.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On other news, I read that MJ's mother is fearing that there will be no safe place for her son's body to rest, cos there have been threats from fans who plan to steal his body. What the ? With great respect to MJ, why is his family still keeping his body? Hasn't MJ being dead for nearly 2 months now?&lt;strong&gt; I think this is the height of attachment&lt;/strong&gt; and it makes me sick. MJ is dead, his body is now an empty vessel. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Wouldn't it be good if the family can come to terms with Death, respect MJ and bury(/cremate) his body so that he can finally rest in PEACE?&lt;/span&gt; They have to learn to face reality and learn to let go. I have never come across such greed and attachment before over a dead body. As a Buddhist, I strongly believe that nothing is permanent and that death is inevitable...so when someone dies, although it can be truly heartbreaking, the body must be laid to rest or cremated (my preference), without holding on to it so tightly. This body is a deteriorating organism...and when it's dead, it needs to be disposed of, whether you like it or not. I guess they have to stop fighting over where the body should be buried cos it's quite ridiculous and is awfully shallow. &lt;strong&gt;I wonder if they ever treated him so lovingly when he was alive?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Speaking of 2 deaths in 1 post, I wanna ask you this question. You may answer if you wish to. &lt;strong&gt;If you had a chance to write a letter&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*to whoever you like addressing it to*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;describing how you want your body handled &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*once you're dead ofcourse u doofus*&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;strong&gt; what would you write in it? &lt;/strong&gt;Say it in few words. Please note this is not to ridicule any dead person. This is simply my way of seeing Death. Now here's my letter:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Dearest Mum,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkcMMwHJwI/AAAAAAAAHbk/KM58W_hFlvA/s1600-h/wom1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366351426895685378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkcMMwHJwI/AAAAAAAAHbk/KM58W_hFlvA/s320/wom1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;WOW so I'm dead? It somehow happened ha phew! Don't cry. See I'm still laughing LOL! You know, with all the John-Abrahams I passed at the departure lounge at the Death terminal, I think Death rocks man! oops I mean mum. I knew there must be some reason why Life was so boring. btw this letter is strictly to let you know what to do with my now fatally crashed body &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*all the other sentimental things I wanted to say to you is in another 10-page letter btw. good luck reading it mum ;-) dun burn too many candles now*&lt;/span&gt;. For more read my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm finally dead-bored, and I cannot wear those Manolo Blahniks anymore, just cremate me please &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*just make sure the smoke alarm has working batteries incase I panic and want to get out!*&lt;/span&gt;. I'd like my sexy ashes to be scattered over the ocean where I can be at peace mingling with the cute Nemo-like fishes &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*OMG I hope there won't be any sharks!*&lt;/span&gt;. That's it folks I'm finally free woohoo! o btw, make my coffin a simple wooden one that doesn't cost a fortune. After all it's going to be set fire to right? I knew you'd get it mum, gee tnxx!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MWAHZ &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I just realised I cant send u kisses anymore...my lips are falling apart urrrrg!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours loving and very late daughter,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Keshi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Death is just another part of Life. At the end of everyone's road, Death awaits your acceptance. Death sees no color, religion, status, caste or creed. Death does not choose. And you cannot ask Death to give you preference...you cannot buy time...you cannot negotiate with it. In death you can't parade your pride and ego, cos there's no one to watch you. In Death you can't hurt another cos no one feels then, not even you. In Death you can't apologise, cos no one will hear you. In Death you can't be superior, cos in Death you can't even move your hands or lips...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Some People&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Cliff Richard&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-321956268938564426?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/321956268938564426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=321956268938564426' title='160 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/321956268938564426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/321956268938564426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/mortally-yours.html' title='Mortally Yours'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnkWGMxMsyI/AAAAAAAAHbc/9AyqupsRzYw/s72-c/shad1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>160</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-301736980924495682</id><published>2009-08-04T15:16:00.077+10:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T17:26:07.950+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Why Do I Feel This Party Is Over?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The &lt;em&gt;Call &lt;/em&gt;Of A Neanderthal&lt;/strong&gt; *tring tring...ooaaaoooaaah!*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfVP7G6uRI/AAAAAAAAHa8/LvsfhxIy-cs/s1600-h/wom2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWiYfXVII/AAAAAAAAHbE/Zed8N9pKAaM/s1600-h/bab1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365993367213134978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWiYfXVII/AAAAAAAAHbE/Zed8N9pKAaM/s320/bab1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember that guy who I was trying to fix up with my friend a couple of weeks ago? Well guess what? He's calling me all the time. Isn't he supposed to ring my friend btw? Must be a fuse in his brain socket! It's a pain in my eardrums btw. Men are so shallow, all they ever want is the OTHER girl. urrrrrg! After a few very dumb Lets-go-for-coffee kind of boring phone calls that is just beyond me &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*trust me at this stage of my life I have better things that I'm interested in than going out with a guy to have a Barbie and Ken moment!*&lt;/span&gt;, I decided to tell him that my phone is playing up and it doesn't work anymore. Yes I lied. Cos I didn't wanna tell him the truth on his face and make him think I'm probably a wonderful specimen for Romantically-dead-Nerd-girl Research. I just can't be bothered guys. I'd rather read a book or drive to a lovely lakeside or blog some cranium, instead of wasting my time on the phone with a lovelorn male or having a coffee with him when my mind is somewhere far away collecting water with the Zulu tribe in Africa! arrrrrrrrrrg gimme a break! Call me dull but I really don't feel that Romance is for someone like me. I'd just go and stare at his face, play with my coffee or look frozen-bored that he'd feel so humiliated or perhaps ask &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'are you dead?'&lt;/span&gt;. Which is better, doing that or telling my phone is psychotic and never talking again? I think the latter. Yes I may be mental but I like mental :). It's better than being someone else right? I don't know if &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfVP7G6uRI/AAAAAAAAHa8/LvsfhxIy-cs/s1600-h/wom2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;something is wrong with me, or if something is actually right with me. I feel dead bored when I think of Dating or looking for possible partners. The need for a partner must have become a fossil in me over time and with experiences. I seem to have gotten over that need way before my time. While I still have silly crushes, they last about a nano-second? It's as if there's an automatic algorithm inside of me against Mush. It's a killer one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Too Many &lt;em&gt;Sooks&lt;/em&gt; Spoil My Looks!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfTlFLwqUI/AAAAAAAAHa0/mUU6mr3QBGM/s1600-h/wom4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWpvwm8eI/AAAAAAAAHbM/dkjRJDJrVgQ/s1600-h/wom5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365993493718561250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWpvwm8eI/AAAAAAAAHbM/dkjRJDJrVgQ/s320/wom5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When someone is trying to fix me up with a guy, or trying to find out if I'm interested in them, I wonder why they do that. Is something lacking in me, isn't my life complete already? I think it is. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Some people ask me when are you getting married. Some ask me what happened to you. &lt;/span&gt;I laugh, and I sympathise with them. Cos these people have never been where I have been. They have never realised themselves. Instead they look elsewhere to define themselves. I wonder why most people look outside of themselves to find themselves. &lt;strong&gt;It's as if they always want someone/something external to give meaning to their lives.&lt;/strong&gt; It baffles me. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Can't meaning exist with yourself alone?&lt;/span&gt; I have enough trouble dealing with myself I just don't wanna find another maniac to think about! :) Imagine what will happen to me then, I'd have double trouble! I'm just over my sooky-lala moments guys, it's official. When I see a couple going coochee-coo, I just wanna slap them LOL! Am I scary or what!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drunk In Sobriety&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWxDgOKVI/AAAAAAAAHbU/yoBuEumhK3g/s1600-h/wom4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365993619277621586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWxDgOKVI/AAAAAAAAHbU/yoBuEumhK3g/s320/wom4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm always sober...I don't have to get drunk in love and then wake up to realise it's all over.&lt;/strong&gt; Been there, done that and I know how it all feels. It's all temporary. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;God must have made men and women so they could pair up, but He still made men and women &lt;strong&gt;individuals&lt;/strong&gt;. There must be a reason for that too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; just feel we are all stuck in a rut whether we like to admit it or not. I just want to get out of here and go where there are no expectations, no disappointments, no dependencies, no pretense, no routine, no limits, no walls, no boxes, no rules, no nothing. Is there such a place? The sun over here is too &lt;strong&gt;blinding&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Sober&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Pink&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-301736980924495682?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/301736980924495682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=301736980924495682' title='76 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/301736980924495682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/301736980924495682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-do-i-feel-this-party-is-over.html' title='Why Do I Feel This Party Is Over?'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnfWiYfXVII/AAAAAAAAHbE/Zed8N9pKAaM/s72-c/bab1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>76</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-4597580043455848731</id><published>2009-08-03T14:15:00.091+10:30</published><updated>2009-08-03T16:27:37.937+10:30</updated><title type='text'>What Lies Beneath...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sweet &lt;em&gt;Hidden &lt;/em&gt;Truths...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnZsWMGJH0I/AAAAAAAAHac/_623mKGpfaU/s1600-h/pnks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365595134518435650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnZsWMGJH0I/AAAAAAAAHac/_623mKGpfaU/s320/pnks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We often lie. We all lie whether we like to admit it or not. White lies are almost unavoidable just so that you don't end up hurting someone. I guess it's ok that you tell a small lie than cause a big emotional turmoil by telling the truth. Honesty has always been my policy but when I can't be honest without hurting someone, I prefer to keep quiet. And then, I'm lying. Yes being silent without being able to tell the truth can be equivalent to lying. Words don't always have to be used for it to be a lie. There's nothing I can do about it either. Silence is just a kinder way of lying than using hurtful words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What Are You &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Coming to Words, it's hard to look at a person or listen to them talking and decide if they are being truthful or not. People behave in bizzare ways and I believe we humans are way too complex for even our own selves to understand us. People often don't have a problem in lying but hate it when being lied to. It's human nature. &lt;strong&gt;The fact that what you &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; is not what you always &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;say&lt;/span&gt;, and what you &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;say&lt;/span&gt; is not what you always &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt;, in itself proves that we are all living all kinds of Lies, with a little bit of Truth in between. And what's that Truth? The only truth is all the deeds that we do. &lt;/strong&gt;People can say anything but it's the actions that define a person in their true sense. Coming back to Silence, words or no words, even Silence is an action. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;What you do and don't do, define the Truth about you.&lt;/span&gt; The truth about us is in the deeds that we do and the deeds that we don't do. Words may be powerful, but Deeds are more powerful in conveying a message about you without you being able to hide the truth. No matter what we preach, our deeds (and non-deeds) make us transparent to the world. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Our Truth lies in our Energy, our Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your &lt;em&gt;Shadow&lt;/em&gt; Follows You Around...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coming to Deeds, it's all about &lt;strong&gt;Karma&lt;/strong&gt; (good/bad). &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Karma is like your shadow, it's always with you, it follows you around wherever you go, and it even has the shape of YOU. YOU are what your Karma is and your Karma is what YOU are. And in total darkness, you may not see your shadow, just like how in total illusion you may not see your own deeds. &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You can run away from your bills, people and debts...you can &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnZz0dtyKDI/AAAAAAAAHak/kIG3A3daLTs/s1600-h/pinks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365603351225575474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnZz0dtyKDI/AAAAAAAAHak/kIG3A3daLTs/s320/pinks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;pretend for awhile, you can put things off for as long as you want to, or even successfully bury your past.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You can lie all you want, all your life, to yourself as well as to many people as you want, but you can't lie to your own Karma, and your Karma will never lie to you. Cos your Karma cannot be undone, just like how you cannot get rid of your shadow.&lt;/span&gt; Your looks, titles, status, assets, riches, loved-ones etc..nothing and nobody remains with you permanently except for your Karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What lies beneath your face and words, that comes out as your true Energy through your deeds and non-deeds? It's not what 'you' think. The answer lies in the hearts of the people who know you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Curren Music: &lt;strong&gt;It Doesnt Matter&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Alison Krauss&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-4597580043455848731?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4597580043455848731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=4597580043455848731' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4597580043455848731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4597580043455848731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-lies-beneath.html' title='What &lt;em&gt;Lies &lt;/em&gt;Beneath...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnZsWMGJH0I/AAAAAAAAHac/_623mKGpfaU/s72-c/pnks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-40413316822809719</id><published>2009-07-31T11:52:00.081+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-31T19:53:18.068+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Blocked Gates</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJUFeji0eI/AAAAAAAAHaM/PxA8mkGtnV8/s1600-h/wire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364442559229907426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJUFeji0eI/AAAAAAAAHaM/PxA8mkGtnV8/s320/wire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I wasn't going to post again til next week cos I just posted a new post yesterday (I will reply to your comments there soon, thanks!). But I just had to write this one today...cos what happened to a young schoolgirl in a leading Girls' school in Colombo Sri Lanka, had me in total shock and in sheer disgust at the authorities and the mockery of a so-called system. I just had to share this true story with you...it may open up your hearts, make you look at your brothers/sisters/friends/children under a new shade of light, may make you understand that after all, we are all human...and imposing rules and regulations, and expecting high standards of discipline from one another need to be done in a careful, respectful and&lt;strong&gt; in an effective manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The article is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://gossiplanka.blogspot.com/2009/07/school-girl-sucide-for-mobile-sex.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. However, the script is in Sinhalese, therefore some of you may not be able to read the article or see her pictures. But I hope you can read the comments there - some of them are in English, &lt;strong&gt;and most of them are revolting!&lt;/strong&gt; It made me very sad to realise that there are downright stupid, judgemental and heartless people out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJSxmbqk6I/AAAAAAAAHZ0/6CBMjtPTvAM/s1600-h/dp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364441118235333538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJSxmbqk6I/AAAAAAAAHZ0/6CBMjtPTvAM/s320/dp1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll tell you her story first. The girl was just 14yrs old, and attended this very popular Girls' school in Colombo (some of my friends and cousins went to that same school years ago). Just last week or so, this girl had been checking some nude photos/videos on her mobile phone in her classroom. Prefects walked in and caught her checking out some porn pics. So what did the prefects and the teachers do? &lt;strong&gt;Made her feel extremely awful, downright dirty, scolded her and have reported her to the Principal.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;They also warned that her cell will go to her parents' and she will be dealt with seriously. &lt;/strong&gt;So what did the very-scared and humiliated girl do? She said she needed to go to the toilet, but didnt come back after 20mins or so. Students went to check on her and they found her there. &lt;strong&gt;Not alive though. She hung herself to her death, with the aid of her school tie!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW clap clap clap teachers and prefects! You must be very proud of 'achieving' your alma-mater's discipline standards? Or is it that you're gonna live with extreme guilt and regret for the rest of your lives? I think the latter! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJTemsVzfI/AAAAAAAAHZ8/uJG_hDFQQQo/s1600-h/dic1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJTemsVzfI/AAAAAAAAHZ8/uJG_hDFQQQo/s1600-h/dic1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364441891399388658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJTemsVzfI/AAAAAAAAHZ8/uJG_hDFQQQo/s320/dic1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What is wrong with our society? Some comments in that article made me wanna puke! It seems most Sri Lankans are still living in total denial of what's REAL and what's NATURAL to humanbeings. Sex, Porn, Nudity etc are part of this world...and they are very real. It's not something to be ashamed of or something that should make one feel disgusted. &lt;strong&gt;Sure, school kids need to be monitored and disciplined...but there are respectful and effective ways of doing so. Making one feel awful, small, dirty and disrespected is surely not one of them!&lt;/strong&gt; There were some naked pics in her cell..so what? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Is Porn such a big deal that curious kids need to be made to feel so terrible for exploring what is quite natural to any pubertal humanbeing?&lt;/span&gt; While they need to be 'educated' about sex and sexuality, no one has the right to make another feel dirty and wrong for being experimental. I think culture plays a big part here...Sri Lankans want to preserve their 'virgin' culture more than the lives itself! Quite the sad truth there. I'm appalled at how some people said that she deserved to die and that if she lived, she'd have turned into a prostitute some day! How very ignorant and callous. I have never seen Stupidity like that before! We are all different, we all have our curiosities, we all have our ways, we all need some guidance at some stage in our lives, we all DESERVE a second chance...don't we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJTwqXgfwI/AAAAAAAAHaE/mm6EvNgctM0/s1600-h/gate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364442201623396098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJTwqXgfwI/AAAAAAAAHaE/mm6EvNgctM0/s320/gate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What happened was a terrible mistake on behalf of the school, teachers and the prefects. But they are denying any responsibility. Not surprised there at all. I guess they just want to preserve their 'pure' image that they carried on for years even at the cost of the life of one of their own? And now the Telecom Director of Sri Lanka is banning mobile phones from ALL schools in SL! HAHA is this even a solution? A quick fix that will really fix nothing!&lt;strong&gt; It's all a big joke. &lt;/strong&gt;I strongly believe it's the school's and the culture's responsibility...&lt;strong&gt;her death happened due to the failure of an incompetent, outdated, gullible and an irresponsible system.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Education and living face to face with the Truth is the only way to instil true discipline. And there is always a &lt;strong&gt;WAY&lt;/strong&gt; to get a message across to someone. That &lt;strong&gt;way&lt;/strong&gt; is very important. It's got to be &lt;strong&gt;effective&lt;/strong&gt; or else you better not say it at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Any thoughts? Honest opinions please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJVtQdEFOI/AAAAAAAAHaU/g4MPbrQR9xM/s1600-h/see.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364444342151025890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJVtQdEFOI/AAAAAAAAHaU/g4MPbrQR9xM/s320/see.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't block the view...&lt;strong&gt;don't put barbed-wires around Truth and Nature&lt;/strong&gt;...don't close the doors. Let them enter...let them see for themselves...let them know what it's all about. Let them understand without any fear or guilt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Cos, when the gates get blocked, the pressure will blow them into pieces....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; If something/someone's bothering you, talk to someone, get help, think twice before you take drastic steps...life is much more worth living than giving into a problem or to a bunch of bullies. And there's always someone who will understand how you feel - and it doesnt always have to be your teachers, parents or even friends. &lt;strong&gt;To save your life or someone else's life...talk. And when you wanna help someone, talk to them in an 'effective' way.&lt;/strong&gt; Cos you never know 'how' you say something to another would ultimately affect them. Take care people and have a good weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;How To Save A Life &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;The Fray&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-40413316822809719?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/40413316822809719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=40413316822809719' title='116 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/40413316822809719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/40413316822809719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/blocked-gates.html' title='Blocked Gates'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnJUFeji0eI/AAAAAAAAHaM/PxA8mkGtnV8/s72-c/wire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>116</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3416552997905606908</id><published>2009-07-30T12:27:00.048+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-30T16:46:52.247+10:30</updated><title type='text'>For Butter Or For Worse!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnEFOuW7o6I/AAAAAAAAHZk/6Nd_SXWRcjM/s1600-h/bal1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364074381695493026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnEFOuW7o6I/AAAAAAAAHZk/6Nd_SXWRcjM/s320/bal1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ok let's have some fun! I will give you a list of words. Take each word (or whichever ones you prefer) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;tell me if they are Male or Female, AND tell me why&lt;/strong&gt;. Simple, isn't it? Cool! Now here are some examples (my own ones) just so that you get the hang of it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Google&lt;/strong&gt; - Female. Cos it's very useful and it's almost equivalent to GOD!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Butter&lt;/strong&gt;- Male. Cos it's 'useless' when it's frozen and without something to 'spread' itself on!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cars&lt;/strong&gt; - Male. Cos they r good when they are brandnew but after a few years they suck big time and make you wanna puke by the roadside!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poster Ads -&lt;/strong&gt; Female. Cos they are often looked at, stands out and always have a message to convey. ;-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Balloons&lt;/strong&gt; - Male. Cos you have to 'blow' them for them to reach their 'full' potential!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Condoms&lt;/strong&gt; - Female. Cos they often protect you from having to deal with unwanted 'consequences' in life, but if damaged can give you lifelong 'nightmares'!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bra &lt;/strong&gt;- Male. Cos they are glued to breasts!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cats&lt;/strong&gt; - Male. Cos they sleep all day, hog the couch eternally, eat, burp and really do nothing else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get the drift? :) Good. So here is your list. Have a go, make it spicey, fun, smart, crisp, clear and interesting!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnEFzAdiCCI/AAAAAAAAHZs/40qdIFNNo1g/s1600-h/mans.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364075005030303778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnEFzAdiCCI/AAAAAAAAHZs/40qdIFNNo1g/s320/mans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;Printer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Surgery&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Keys&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Morning-after-pill&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Words&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Blogs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Water&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Death&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sound&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Banana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;TV&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Money&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tummy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Trains&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hollywood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kiss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Window&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Work&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music&lt;strong&gt;: Man I Feel Like A Woman!&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Shania Twain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-3416552997905606908?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3416552997905606908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3416552997905606908' title='71 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3416552997905606908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3416552997905606908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/for-butter-or-for-worse.html' title='For &lt;em&gt;Butter &lt;/em&gt;Or For Worse!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SnEFOuW7o6I/AAAAAAAAHZk/6Nd_SXWRcjM/s72-c/bal1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>71</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7984710268620183329</id><published>2009-07-28T15:35:00.038+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-28T17:05:48.877+10:30</updated><title type='text'>After The Pretty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm6IBuVAspI/AAAAAAAAHZc/kL9d4C9yKQ4/s1600-h/fl2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363373769442243218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm6IBuVAspI/AAAAAAAAHZc/kL9d4C9yKQ4/s320/fl2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm6Hy_esgEI/AAAAAAAAHZU/eOS5D9oHJwU/s1600-h/fl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;In the depth of this pain, there's a glimmer of hope..&lt;br /&gt;At the top of this joy, there's a tinge of betrayal&lt;br /&gt;In the stillness of the night, there's a life beginning..&lt;br /&gt;In the empty of this life, there's a fill of breaths&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom of this darkness, there's a birth of light..&lt;br /&gt;In the core of this laughter, there's a mile of tears&lt;br /&gt;At the height of rejection, there's a span of acceptance..&lt;br /&gt;In the beauty of this smile, there's a crooked deception...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why I wrote what I wrote above. Something deep within me wanted me to express it somehow. Those thoughts just popped up in my mind and I inked them. Maybe there's something in my subconscious mind that needs to be taken care of. I don't know. Maybe how some people have been behaving has made me stop in my tracks and ponder upon it. Maybe I'm not sure where I'm heading with all of this...I feel lost. Maybe I'm feeling a sense of detachment...maybe I'm tired of people's lies. What happens after all the pretty words are being said? Where do friends go after that? It seems people have left and I'm still here, living in their afterglow...reliving the times in their shadows. I'm caught in your shadow and all I have is hollow. Was it real? Was it a joke? Was it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you relate to it/understand it/make sense out of it? Spill em. I'd like to know. Thanks in advance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Afterglow &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;INXS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7984710268620183329?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7984710268620183329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7984710268620183329' title='120 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7984710268620183329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7984710268620183329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/after-pretty.html' title='After The Pretty'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm6IBuVAspI/AAAAAAAAHZc/kL9d4C9yKQ4/s72-c/fl2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>120</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6400791636703767509</id><published>2009-07-27T14:52:00.054+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-27T21:13:53.156+10:30</updated><title type='text'>It's Automanic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm1FU3AwfHI/AAAAAAAAHZA/UkXAJoLs-NA/s1600-h/k2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm1FIJmY6kI/AAAAAAAAHY4/8m-Y0xL6LQU/s1600-h/k1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm1Gx3rPNfI/AAAAAAAAHZI/6-Hl6vJUZWM/s1600-h/ksca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363020553840965106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm1Gx3rPNfI/AAAAAAAAHZI/6-Hl6vJUZWM/s320/ksca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's manic Monday so let's be manic to the fullest! I have a deep dark secret...yes I do. Ready to hear it? I'm 1% sane, 99% manic! OMG &lt;strong&gt;being manic is automatic to me!&lt;/strong&gt; It's been designed in my genes. Too late to fix it. I was born with it. Can't help it. So deal with it! btw those who couldn't deal with me have already left &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*goodbye madness, hello sadness? it's your loss btw! ;-)*&lt;/span&gt;. Here are some of the manic qualities in me that cannot be cured, simply cos it's automanic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Sometimes I put about 5 sachets of sugar in my coffee while chatting with a colleague in the kitchen, until he starts to look at me as if I'm some kind of maniac that he shouldn't be in the vicinity of! And I drink the coffee as if nothing is wrong with it and ask my colleague why he's giving me strange looks? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*weirdo, he needs rehab!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; Then when he has left, &lt;strong&gt;I realise my coffee tastes like a Coma-fix!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_hW_CsxI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/xTTKqXKu6vk/s1600-h/cat1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363012573606359826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_hW_CsxI/AAAAAAAAHYQ/xTTKqXKu6vk/s320/cat1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I eat at the oddest times of the day. If I get hungry at 1am, I will get up, go to my fridge, microwave some left-overs, sit on the couch, turn the TV on and eat the food while thinking of what my next blogpost is gonna be! My creative juices flow when I'm all alone and in the stillness of the night. &lt;strong&gt;I come to life at night.&lt;/strong&gt; Im eerie yes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*freaky night-owl sounds follow...whoo-ooo-whoo-oo!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Sometimes I have conversations with the walls. Yes I talk to myself too. &lt;strong&gt;There's a person living inside of me&lt;/strong&gt; who guides me through my every move, laughs at me, makes fun of me, compliments me, tells me right from wrong, bitches at me, goes to the shower with me, eats with me and even works with me. Scared? Not yet, cos there's more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*On some days I can be almost like a glamour girl but on other days I can be the ugliest thing on Earth, with bad hair, daggy clothes, oldest shoes and the most sleepiest eyes&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *tops it as a trainwreck model*&lt;/span&gt;. And the most interesting part is &lt;strong&gt;on those ugly days&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I don't care how I look&lt;/strong&gt; and I don't want your comments either! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*meeeoooow!!* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But if&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; you do comment, I can take it without biting ya. Yes I'm shit scary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_owuDv9I/AAAAAAAAHYY/zU8IXdoPZJs/s1600-h/cat5.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363012700773531602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_owuDv9I/AAAAAAAAHYY/zU8IXdoPZJs/s320/cat5.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I can listen to the same song a 100 times on the same day. Yes my iPod has been 'shagged' to death with the same song being played many a times, and if you look at the list of songs in there, you may find 4 different versions of the same song done by different artists. Don't panic yet. You may also find the oldest song and the newest gunk, from rap, reggae to slow rock and dance etc etc. &lt;strong&gt;Am I bipolar?&lt;/strong&gt; Maybe, but who isn't ha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *points at you!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Sometimes when certain people annoy me, &lt;strong&gt;I have a running session of abuse in my head&lt;/strong&gt; that don't have a voice &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*thankfully!*&lt;/span&gt;. In that session, I have told them off big time with all the rude words on Earth&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *$#%^&amp;amp;**$##*&lt;/span&gt;, and so I am calmer in my outward appearance, and I can tolerate them until they are finished with their bullshit. I get impatient with people who can't understand simple things and can't do simple things on their own! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rrraaaaaaaarrrraaa!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*I have an obsession with being neat and clean no matter what. If things are in the wrong place 'physically', &lt;strong&gt;I shift them 'mentally'&lt;/strong&gt; even before I have started to move them in real. Yes, I can burn down a house if it cannot be done! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*why can't people be 'perfect' like me ha?*&lt;/span&gt; ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_uxZkj5I/AAAAAAAAHYg/CdTwWn4lSa4/s1600-h/cat2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363012804035252114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_uxZkj5I/AAAAAAAAHYg/CdTwWn4lSa4/s320/cat2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I hate loud noises, heavy coughing &amp;amp; nose-blowing in public and banging of doors. If anyone does that I shudder in anger and total irritation.&lt;strong&gt; I often block my ears with my fingers, right infront of those people&lt;/strong&gt; that make such noises! It's time they get the message right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Sometimes I sit in my car and listen to music for a good 30mins or so.&lt;strong&gt; I just find a total sense of peace when I'm in my car all alone&lt;/strong&gt;, in my garage with lights off, and just music as my company.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*I have really seen a ghost! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no it wasnt in the mirror*&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not joking either. I have even blogged about it long time ago. &lt;strong&gt;I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't dreaming, I wasn't hallucinating.&lt;/strong&gt; But I'm not that scared of ghosts...cos ghosts are harmless in comparison to the Living! That's what I believe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I wish I was a ghost*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_0hSM-8I/AAAAAAAAHYo/7vZ7uDM3vWQ/s1600-h/cat3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363012902788594626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_0hSM-8I/AAAAAAAAHYo/7vZ7uDM3vWQ/s320/cat3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I have an addiction of writing, reading, connecting and learning. I cannot seem to stop it. I wonder if I'd be doing that in my coffin too! &lt;strong&gt;I'm a total wisdom-whore&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;and super fast multi-tasker.&lt;/strong&gt; I can blog, work, eat, speak on the phone, think, hunk-watch, sleep etc all at the same time! I can also bludge one whole day and get all the work done in the next minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*I can start off a conversation with any old stranger just about anywhere. I did that on Sat with an old man who was listening to me talking to my mum in Sinhalese, inside a lift. I was quite loud, forgetting it was a shopping-centre lift, and was going on and on &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*what was I thinking, that was my house?*&lt;/span&gt;. And then suddenly I realised I was inside a lift with 3 other men. I stopped my blabber, smiled and apologised to the men. They all laughed! One old man got close to me and said &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I was 50yrs younger I'd have learnt that language somehow and got to know ya better'&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;we both laughed and laughed like we were good ol friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*I can drool on a guy I desire, watch him from afar, fantasise an entire life with him etc etc yet get turned off so very easily by one small thing he says or does. I get bored easily and I tend to dream of a lover that don't exist in this world perhaps. Or do they? &lt;strong&gt;Most guys' typical behavior make me suffer, both physically and mentally! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*proof: my scarred dreams, immortal single life and lifelong brain-damage!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_8IHQ_kI/AAAAAAAAHYw/hjRrHQ2EIZo/s1600-h/psy1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363013033470787138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm0_8IHQ_kI/AAAAAAAAHYw/hjRrHQ2EIZo/s320/psy1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I'm moody, trust me when I say that. I can be the bestest company but I can also be the most moodiest biyatch you can ever come across! Just leave me at those times please. Or else, you'll start slapping me on the face!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *blame it on my genetic design*. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I hate talking on the phone for too long. There are times I don't answer the phone on purpose, just cos I'm not in the mood. Sorry, &lt;strong&gt;I don't do half-arsed jobs - if I'm not in the mood, I'm not going to do it at all.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*My dreams often come true! No I'm not joking. I do have premonitions too. I also have some dead people passing messages to me in my dreams. Believe it or not, some very shocking things have taken place, just the way they have told me in my dreams. &lt;strong&gt;Sometimes I get strong visions/vibes/memories from a distant past&lt;/strong&gt; (/previous life perhaps) that makes me all teary! Yes I'm freaky, perhaps psychic? I don't know either!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Often I feel like a fish outta water. Crowds, public, parties, wherever I am, &lt;strong&gt;I feel that I'm mad and most people are sane.&lt;/strong&gt; Cos they all seem to be living this methodical, organised, pattern-oriented lives...whereas I seem to be just watching them all. It's as if I'm some kind of spectator of this world. The last time I was at a crowd, some people were amazed that I blog. They asked me what's the point of blogging. I'm not sure if they'd understand, had I given them my answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Any surprises/predictions there? :) Got a manic side to ya? Share please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That first pic is from the weekend...wore that white Spring dress for a bday party, although this manic kitten is feeling all the flu symptoms right now&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *cough cough*&lt;/span&gt; and I refuse to be sick...today my voice sounds like a man's voice eww eww eww I'm not sexy anymore! :*(. However the thought of going to see a John-Abraham-lookalike doctor is making me wanna sneeze more! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*aichooooooo x 1000000!!!!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Maniac&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Michael Sembello&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-6400791636703767509?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6400791636703767509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6400791636703767509' title='96 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6400791636703767509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6400791636703767509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-auto-manic.html' title='It&apos;s Auto&lt;em&gt;manic&lt;/em&gt;!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sm1Gx3rPNfI/AAAAAAAAHZI/6-Hl6vJUZWM/s72-c/ksca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>96</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5621288717813163436</id><published>2009-07-25T10:06:00.019+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-25T10:42:19.489+10:30</updated><title type='text'>La Di Da Di Da!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmpKZtb7esI/AAAAAAAAHYI/WDWHXzzF4_0/s1600-h/ksh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362180111891921602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmpKZtb7esI/AAAAAAAAHYI/WDWHXzzF4_0/s320/ksh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmpJUteKMqI/AAAAAAAAHYA/HrJnzxzxaC0/s1600-h/okesh2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;yipppeeeee it's THE weekend! You see, I love weekends. Cos I believe that's when I shed my work-mask and become fully me. I can just be myself, do my thing, dance around in the house, eat loads and loads til I feel sick, and then puke if I want to. LOL! Today I have a bday party to go to in the afternoon...but there's some retail therapy to be done before that ;-).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's a little weekend game for ya. Fill in the blanks ok? Nothing 'preachy' this time &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes, typical Keshi ha?*&lt;/span&gt;. Lets just have some Unadulterated Fun ;-). So here it is: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Every man has a _____ and every woman has a _____!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Go for it. Good luck and hey just have fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Kingston Town&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;strong&gt; UB40&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5621288717813163436?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5621288717813163436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5621288717813163436' title='111 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5621288717813163436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5621288717813163436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/la-di-da-di-da.html' title='La Di Da Di Da!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmpKZtb7esI/AAAAAAAAHYI/WDWHXzzF4_0/s72-c/ksh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>111</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3454643915571203077</id><published>2009-07-23T15:59:00.044+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-23T17:09:58.782+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Today's Special Is Humility</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smf_RmtBRsI/AAAAAAAAHXY/s2QLdQhwOjk/s1600-h/bab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361534559320098498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smf_RmtBRsI/AAAAAAAAHXY/s2QLdQhwOjk/s320/bab.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guess what? In the last 5 months, I have received 2 letters and 1 pic, from my sponsored kid in Sri Lanka! awww they were so touching, so heartfelt and so very soul-cleansing. Recently I sent him a stationary pack, some small gifts, along with a t-shirt. He had received all of that and wanted to thank me. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I didn't wanna be thanked, I only wished I could do more.&lt;/span&gt; Something as simple as a Disney eraser pack, a box of markers, a sticker book and lead pencils which most kids over here have in abundance, seemed to have created magic in Baby-Dee's world. The kind of magic that he'd not come across in a far away rural village without the luxury of clean water or daily meals, let alone school accessories. I also sent him one of my pics, and he wrote in his letter that both his mum and he looked at my pic, and that he felt like talking to me and wished I was near him. Also, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;stated that he's avoiding wearing the t-shirt I sent him, til his bday, so that he could wear it then.&lt;/span&gt; That brought warm tears to my eyes. It was just a normal t-shirt, nothing fancy. But to him, it was&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;very special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Trust me, this whole experience to me is the ultimate Meditation of my life...I don't have to stand infront of a God's statue and pray, or meditate with chantings to purify my heart and soul.&lt;strong&gt; Sentiments expressed in Baby-Dee's letters are my Bible.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; I'm not saying I have attained enlightenment hell nah, I have a long way to go ;-), but I really can't understand how by going to a temple or reading the Geetha, and not really doing anything to help someone in need (be it a loved-one or strangers) that one can find some real peace of mind? I know alot of people like that in my own circle - they donate alot of money to the temples, cover the statues in gold etc etc but don't even have the time for or the inclination to help their own family and friends if the need arises. It makes me wonder why people do that. &lt;/span&gt;I always believed that hands that do service are holier than the lips that pray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Please note that I'm not trying to put myself on a pedestal here and feel superior...I'm just saying that praying is of no use if there's no action. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You don't even have to pray, if your life itself is a prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smf7bipdSjI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/kPlsOfOpOg0/s1600-h/hum.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmgBaye3LGI/AAAAAAAAHXg/3Q_MIst5SwA/s1600-h/g1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361536916124019810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmgBaye3LGI/AAAAAAAAHXg/3Q_MIst5SwA/s320/g1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I learnt something from Baby-Dee today. We may or may not have everything we ever wanted in life.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But there is always a little magic hidden somewhere in the rusty attics of our bleeding hearts.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And if we are humble enough to realise them, if we are energetic enough to cast away our fears, if we are courageous enough to bury our tears, we will find them. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Baby-Dee was &lt;strong&gt;special&lt;/strong&gt; enough to be &lt;strong&gt;humble&lt;/strong&gt;, and was &lt;strong&gt;humble&lt;/strong&gt; enough to find something &lt;strong&gt;special&lt;/strong&gt; out of something so ordinary.&lt;/span&gt; His life may not be the same as my nephew's or your child's, but his heart is &lt;strong&gt;very special.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; I just want to say I learnt something from Baby-Dee today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;and that is to be &lt;strong&gt;humble&lt;/strong&gt; enough to find something &lt;strong&gt;special&lt;/strong&gt; in every small gesture that comes your way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Share with me stories of Humility and the contrary :). Let's learn from what's happening around us. Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;One Love&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Bob Marley&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-3454643915571203077?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3454643915571203077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3454643915571203077' title='96 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3454643915571203077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3454643915571203077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/todays-special-is-humility.html' title='Today&apos;s &lt;em&gt;Special &lt;/em&gt;Is Humility'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smf_RmtBRsI/AAAAAAAAHXY/s2QLdQhwOjk/s72-c/bab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>96</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3748514243605331991</id><published>2009-07-22T15:29:00.068+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-22T17:25:48.885+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Currently Not Hiring</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smal89TvbLI/AAAAAAAAHW4/Smje8GKO_Wo/s1600-h/sing.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361154873099250866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smal89TvbLI/AAAAAAAAHW4/Smje8GKO_Wo/s320/sing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank You&lt;/strong&gt; for taking part in my last 'rather lengthy' post! It was not only a test about Keshi's love-life, it was also a test on &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Patience&lt;/span&gt; from your side. Those who took part, took time out to read and answer ALL the qns, I really do appreciate that. It only goes to show that you really care. Blogging is not just about commenting, it's also about making one another feel appreciated and understood. I had a need to be fulfilled through that post. And that is to conclude my &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Romance &lt;/span&gt;factor...to realise where I stand. Now here are the scores in comment-order. Above 80% is pretty good I think. That means you know me too well OMG &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;congrattz!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; All of you who took part were good. Welldone &lt;strong&gt;all of ya&lt;/strong&gt; and thanks for making me laugh with your comments! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack - 75%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave - 15% &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CN - 80%&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*you know me too well boy!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preeti - 40% &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmamgdipzmI/AAAAAAAAHXI/C-JBieRbyc4/s1600-h/kk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361155483047153250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmamgdipzmI/AAAAAAAAHXI/C-JBieRbyc4/s320/kk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suresh - 65% &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousif - 60%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeevan - 65%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devil - 40%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amit - 65%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat - 75%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ria - 90%&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I had a premonition about this!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Devika - 85%&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*We are so alike indeed!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cess - 80%&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*A French ME over here!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyce - 75%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ammu - 70%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Anuz - 5% &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*lol*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anits - 75%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmamB0MJLlI/AAAAAAAAHXA/bohTJrJzjtk/s1600-h/ja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361154956550811218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 205px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmamB0MJLlI/AAAAAAAAHXA/bohTJrJzjtk/s320/ja.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Conclusion:&lt;/span&gt; It's official. My love-life is in extinction.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *if you spot a White Rhino, do let me know!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. I'm an introvert when it comes to approaching potential partners, not because I was born one, I was made to be one. I became a nerd when it comes to romance, cos I had to. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*cut the sweet crap, get on with it! I get bored very easily*&lt;/span&gt;. While I'd be a good lover, I don't make any effort to find that person I could be a lover to. HAHA! Why? I seem to be floating in clouds of memories and not moving on from the past &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I just don't want to be bothered, I'd rather have a shower!*&lt;/span&gt;. I still do enjoy flirting, sexual tension, casual conversations etc, but I draw the line just there, and I say Good Night. I'm not scared of being in a relationship, neither am I scared of being alone. No it's not that I don't want a partner either. Then WTF is it Keshi? &lt;strong&gt;I think I'm just bored with it all and I'm plain lazy.&lt;/strong&gt; Relationships are hard work...too many sacrifices...too many expectations...&lt;strong&gt;too much of distraction...too many 'must-do's than 'just-be's&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no offense to anyone in a relationship*&lt;/span&gt;. I'm being honest here rather than being politically correct. Relationships just take too much time and energy...sometimes, they drive you away from what you really are&lt;strong&gt;...it's all routine, boxed and mundane for someone like me. They waste my emotions, time and energy.&lt;/strong&gt; In the end I'm so exhausted by it all, I'd rather be alone. I don't want to be a part of a circus just to please others. If I'm happy, I'll be there. If not, I'm not gonna do it. In comparison to my past relationship experiences, being single &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*my current phase*&lt;/span&gt; is the happiest and freest of my life. &lt;strong&gt;Currently&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I think I'm right where I belong.&lt;/strong&gt; Perhaps, if I'm meant to share my life with someone, it will happen in future. But I'm not gonna sweat about that now. It if it happens, it will, if not, I'll still be ok. I'm happy and I'm cruising just the way I am right now. But that doesn't mean it should be the same for everyone. This is just my opinion based on my life. To each his own. Now can God create something NEW for me to venture into and explore other than a relationship?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *bored, rolling eyes, zzzzzz, zaps!* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;BUT if John Abraham comes around, I might reconsider what I just stated above! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*a thousand apologies* ;-). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Guys approach me...alot of them. I just can't be bothered anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;You think I'm in love? That I'm sent from above? I'm not that &lt;strong&gt;innocent&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music:&lt;strong&gt; Oops I Did It Again! &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;Britney Spears&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-3748514243605331991?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3748514243605331991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3748514243605331991' title='71 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3748514243605331991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3748514243605331991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/currently-not-hiring.html' title='Currently Not Hiring'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Smal89TvbLI/AAAAAAAAHW4/Smje8GKO_Wo/s72-c/sing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>71</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-8642486421850468773</id><published>2009-07-21T14:35:00.100+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-21T19:45:43.708+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Marital Status: It's Complicated!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVeCcVgTqI/AAAAAAAAHWo/8iPuXVyDt6g/s1600-h/flow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360794327513583266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVeCcVgTqI/AAAAAAAAHWo/8iPuXVyDt6g/s320/flow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While discussing about 'Marriage' with Devika during a random chat, something she wrote in a reply to me brought about an idea for a post. :) So here I am. Now all of you know Keshi is single &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*stale news ha!*&lt;/span&gt;. This is not a post to find a man for me but it's simply a Keshiology analysis based on what you all know so far about my romantic side, and to find out how the world perceives me as a partner. This test has been prepared carefully to capture the perceptions of each individual who sits for this test, to gather all the answers and arrive at a conclusion about my &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*currently non-existent*&lt;/span&gt; love-life, in the next post that is. Now here are the questions. There is 1 correct answer for each question &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*though you may perceive me different to what I see myself as*&lt;/span&gt;. That is what I'm trying to find out :). All you've got to do is write each qn first, and next to it&lt;strong&gt; write the whole answer&lt;/strong&gt; (not just a, b, c or d). Kapish? Good on ya. Now dive in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVYtS1AUpI/AAAAAAAAHWA/QZGYYCBOkrI/s1600-h/mek.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360788466625958546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVYtS1AUpI/AAAAAAAAHWA/QZGYYCBOkrI/s320/mek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;1. Keshi spots a desirable guy who shows an interest in her. What does she do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Rolls her eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Smiles at him with a hint of blossoming romance in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Hands him a Dating-for-dummies Guide and leaves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; What, who, why?? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*slaps!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. At a party, an Antonio-Banderas-lookalike hero walks upto Keshi, and asks her for a dance. What does Keshi do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Politely accepts the request and dances with him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Tells him to get a life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Burps and rejects his request cos she's too busy drinking &amp;amp; winking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Jumps on him and says &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'I've been waiting, for a MAN like u, to come into my life!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVXGEbvUrI/AAAAAAAAHVw/ST2Vl4YKrT8/s1600-h/can1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360786693235364530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVXGEbvUrI/AAAAAAAAHVw/ST2Vl4YKrT8/s320/can1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;3. Keshi's idea of a romantic evening with that special someone is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Cuddle up by the fireplace &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*provided it's Winter, if not we'd be 2 BBQd lovers!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Beachside cafe with light music, candles and alot of whispers in the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; An all-night-long romp at his place &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*cough cough!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Making him cook for her and do the dishes too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. What turns Keshi on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Watching the back of her guy &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*and drooling ofcourse*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Shirtlessness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; A good long conversation that stimulates each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Oysters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVYQL9BklI/AAAAAAAAHV4/qpc1hmLunEg/s1600-h/cp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360787966564340306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVYQL9BklI/AAAAAAAAHV4/qpc1hmLunEg/s320/cp1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;5. When was the last time Keshi kissed a guy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; 500yrs ago &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*in the Dinosaur era*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; 2 days ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Last year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; In her previous birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. What's Keshi's idea of THE ultimate relationship?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; A live-in relationship with no strings attached &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*don't know about G-strings though!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Being surrounded by Love no matter what her marital status is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Being a PR manager at a Hotel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVZcWQWU6I/AAAAAAAAHWI/L4HZ6jGmyfI/s1600-h/cp2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360789274999804834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVZcWQWU6I/AAAAAAAAHWI/L4HZ6jGmyfI/s320/cp2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7. What attracts Keshi the most?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; A guy with a good heart &amp;amp; a good sense of humor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; A guy with a good income&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; A guy with big...shoulders I mean!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; A guy with a good blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. What is the one thing Keshi loathes about being in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Having to share the bed with a snoring man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Not having enough freedom to be herself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Wet towels on the floor and toilet seat issues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Invasion of foreign agents such as sperms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVjrIwsyEI/AAAAAAAAHWw/qAohUwdoMNQ/s1600-h/bk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360800524191713346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVjrIwsyEI/AAAAAAAAHWw/qAohUwdoMNQ/s320/bk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;9. What do you think Keshi would do to her man when he spills coffee on her new bedspread?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Hit him on the head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Cry and make him buy her a new one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Forgive him, put the bedspread to wash and make him a new cuppa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Scream murder til the Police arrives!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. How many boyfriends did Keshi have so far?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; 156 &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*on her way to the STD clinic*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Nil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; If pet-kittens count, 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVU_N_qaXI/AAAAAAAAHVo/0mGf1byVSx8/s1600-h/k7.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784376519616882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVU_N_qaXI/AAAAAAAAHVo/0mGf1byVSx8/s320/k7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;11. What quality in a man excites Keshi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Good taste in music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Passionate kissing capabilities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Viagra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; His car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. Keshi thinks a great kiss starts with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Bacardi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. When Keshi's guy is in trouble, she'd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Help him out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Dump him immediately and find a new one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Abuse him and make him feel small&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Go on a holiday leaving him down in the dumps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVc6MFgABI/AAAAAAAAHWY/rRMgEtfHHSY/s1600-h/mar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360793086200905746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVc6MFgABI/AAAAAAAAHWY/rRMgEtfHHSY/s320/mar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;14. When it comes to asking a guy out, Keshi is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Conservative - waits for the guy to make the first move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Would ask him out if she really likes him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Rings up his parents straight away to plan the wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Sends him for a blood test and a Gingivitis checkup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. Keshi's ideal place to get married is&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; A low-key beachside wedding with close fam &amp;amp; friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; A Las Vegas eloping session&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; On the bed, proposing to each other over coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; At somebody else's wedding, to cut the costs &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*recession and all*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. Keshi's ideal place for the Honeymoon is&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; A romantic getaway to the Bahamas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; At their place, just the 2 of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Visiting her sponsored child for the first time with her partner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; She doesn't like Honeymoons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVUu1aK38I/AAAAAAAAHVg/oFCkG_A383w/s1600-h/k3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVZvqt4ZmI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/pKl0FGTNMTk/s1600-h/kl.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360789606909896290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVZvqt4ZmI/AAAAAAAAHWQ/pKl0FGTNMTk/s320/kl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;17. Sex to Keshi is like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Cocaine to a drug addict&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Rains to the deserts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Social security to the unemployed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Religion to the extremists&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18. Keshi and her partner are in bed, and suddenly she blurts out her ex-BF's name in her dreams. What does she do to cover it up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; She has a lil chat with herself while rolling her eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; She jumps out of bed and calls her shrink up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; He knows everything about her, so she doesn't worry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; She blocks his ears with cotton buds and goes back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19. Keshi finds out her partner cheated on her just once. What does she do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; Forgives him straight away cos she always cheats on him too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; Listens to what he has to say, asks for time to think over it and then depends on how she feels, warns him and she'll give him a second chance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; Files for divorce the very next day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; Leaves him and becomes a nun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVdO2vKJcI/AAAAAAAAHWg/qyRJ9Vv2a6M/s1600-h/sep.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20. Keshi is heading for a Separation. What's the reason?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.&lt;/strong&gt; He forgot her birthday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b.&lt;/strong&gt; He has an annoying mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;c.&lt;/strong&gt; He doesnt look like John Abraham anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;d.&lt;/strong&gt; He lost respect for her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVUo1xw83I/AAAAAAAAHVY/wOsNj3VpkUI/s1600-h/sx1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360783992061752178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVUo1xw83I/AAAAAAAAHVY/wOsNj3VpkUI/s320/sx1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thanks Devika for triggering this post ;-). &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This post is dedicated to all the SINGLE people out there.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; May you always know what Love is, whether you find a partner or not. It's better to be single than to be in a relationship for the fear of being alone. Life is a huge fun-ride, so never stop having fun. And always keep it real. It's healthier to be true to yourselves than to live a lie. Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music:&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I Wanna Know What Love Is&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Tina Arena&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-8642486421850468773?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8642486421850468773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=8642486421850468773' title='70 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8642486421850468773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8642486421850468773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/marital-status-its-complicated.html' title='Marital Status: It&apos;s Complicated!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmVeCcVgTqI/AAAAAAAAHWo/8iPuXVyDt6g/s72-c/flow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>70</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6145250117699296568</id><published>2009-07-20T15:46:00.061+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-20T17:44:46.327+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Last 48hrs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Today we are in a little &lt;strong&gt;LIFE&lt;/strong&gt; Workshop :) All you've got to do is take the weekend as an example. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now have a good look at how you spent those 2 days.&lt;/span&gt; What did you do on Saturday and Sunday? Let me first tell you what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Put Some &lt;em&gt;Flowers&lt;/em&gt; In Your Hair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQNXwk8lTI/AAAAAAAAHUo/w1cf3crllcQ/s1600-h/kwhite.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360424158305752370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQNXwk8lTI/AAAAAAAAHUo/w1cf3crllcQ/s320/kwhite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday:&lt;/strong&gt; Spent most of the morning shopping...3 bdays coming up this weekend, so went gift-shopping. aww I also ended by buying this very pretty white Spring dress for me :) &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; the Spring collection is already out!*&lt;/span&gt;. Bought my sis this very cool &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Prada&lt;/span&gt; perfume gift set for her bday &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*shhhh don't tell her yet*&lt;/span&gt;. All the ladies at the shop surrounded me and was chatting with me while wrapping her gift, and we had a nice little convo about bdays, gifts and Prada &amp;amp; whatnots &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*the devil does wear Prada after all ;-)*&lt;/span&gt;. Later, mum and I met for lunch at the Mall. On the way back, I drove to the Pet shop. No I wasn't getting any new Pets but I longed to see some puppies, kittens and bunnies. So I stopped by and played with them. Made me so happy. Then we went home. At night, we had a Sri Lankan dinner &amp;amp; dance (buffet) to attend with fam &amp;amp; friends at a Bowling club. It was THE best. Great company, yummy Sri Lankan cuisine, top music, alot of dancing and smiles &amp;amp; laughter. Some guys tried to pick me and a friend up on the dance floor. It didn't work &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes*&lt;/span&gt;. Instead I went upto a guy that my friend was drooling on and was too shy to approach, and managed to talk to him and get his number for my friend! How did I do it? I walked upto him, asked him if he went to a certain school cos he resembled someone I used to know &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*corny pickup line I know, but it worked!*&lt;/span&gt;, he said No and he asked if I went to this certain Girls school, I said No, then the convo continued and he ended up giving me his number LOL! And I passed it on to my friend later on. I also intro'd my friend to him. Let's see what happens &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*fingers &amp;amp; toes crossed I hope I don't fall for him LOL! The dude's not bad at all ;-)*&lt;/span&gt;. Came home around 2am and slept like an overworked kitten on drugs! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*zzzzzzz dun disturb kitty kesh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Running Is &lt;em&gt;Better &lt;/em&gt;Than Sprinting...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQNgpCqqaI/AAAAAAAAHUw/x0aFDNjjJtg/s1600-h/dk.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQQkHieooI/AAAAAAAAHVQ/qw3MxMdh6U0/s1600-h/hair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360427669162730114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQQkHieooI/AAAAAAAAHVQ/qw3MxMdh6U0/s320/hair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;: Woke up late &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*obviously, and I looked groggy and so un-Prada-ish ewww!*&lt;/span&gt;. Dropped mum at a friend's place. Came home and cleaned up the place a bit. Showered. Ate some food. Went to pick mum up listening to Dire Straits in my car and tapping on the wheel and whistling the tune like a crazy hippie on a high. Came back. Checked my blog and email, that had me smiling for awhile. At about 2pm we all drove to a beachside cafe with my cousins for a nice long chat, a light meal and coffee. It was THE best. We had such a great time talking, laughing, catching up with each others' lives while watching the waves, and something very good came out of it too. We found out that one of our cousins' friends is a lesbian and she's trying to hit on my cousin! She freaked out. But it's true. We all worked it out, from all the clues that were laid on the table. But we asked her not to panic and told her not to respond to that girl's messages. My cuz looked really scared LOL! Then we all headed home, dropped my cousins at their place, talked to my uncle who is bedridden, had a long chat with him, went to his lonely little world for an hour or so, and came back home. I was feeling sad for my uncle. Yet I danced my way to the bathroom. Showered again &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yeah I have a showering obsession!*&lt;/span&gt;. Changed into my Pyjamas. Turned the Heater on. Sat on the couch. Watched TV having dinner while chatting to mum. Lazied around for awhile&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *bored and all*&lt;/span&gt;. Rang my friend up &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*the divorced guy from the last post*&lt;/span&gt; who didn't pick up the phone &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* he did just now yeyy!*&lt;/span&gt;. Went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQPV1W9nWI/AAAAAAAAHU4/o2wBkhtobQI/s1600-h/flw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360426324252794210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQPV1W9nWI/AAAAAAAAHU4/o2wBkhtobQI/s320/flw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A typical weekend isnt it? But alot happened in those 2 days and I took up alot of roles. I had many moments of many heights. A jolly, happy one..and then a sad, teary one....and then a funny, girly one etc etc. That is what Life is. All kinds of moments with varying depths and heights. &lt;strong&gt;And all those moments need to be fully lived&lt;/strong&gt;...and that's how I know I'm living to the best of my abilities. I don't like half-arsed jobs. &lt;strong&gt;During a specific moment, I'm there fully, or I'm not there at all.&lt;/strong&gt; Are you? When I'm at the Pet shop, I'm totally a kid. When I'm with mum, I'm totally a responsible yet a chatterbox daughter :). When I'm with my uncle, I'm totally an old man with an ailing body. When I'm with my cousins, I'm totally their nutcase bringing laughter to the table. When I'm with a friend, I'm totally a therapist of the heart, listening to their story. When I'm in the shower, I'm totally Shania Twain with an invisible &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*thank God!*&lt;/span&gt; audience listening to my voice. When I'm with myself in my car, I'm totally a freestyler, being the best company I could be to myself. I LIVE every moment to the fullest, good/bad, happy/sad. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Put some flowers in your hair, and see the difference it makes. Run if you must, but don't sprint all your life away...take it slow, stop and feel the fresh air....don't wait for things to happen, just live in the moment, cos that's all we've got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQPuRXWcZI/AAAAAAAAHVA/qtVoBvrDGJs/s1600-h/har.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQQbRD8wHI/AAAAAAAAHVI/-II2WLDmupw/s1600-h/hairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360427517100212338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQQbRD8wHI/AAAAAAAAHVI/-II2WLDmupw/s320/hairs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So tell me...if the last 2 days were your last on Earth &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*God I hope not!*&lt;/span&gt;, and if you were reminiscing it from afar now, would you have lived it to the fullest, would you have fully basked in every moment in those 48hrs, would you have given your undivided attention to others around you and to yourself, would you have slipped into the life of another to understand them better, would you have stopped to smile and say &lt;strong&gt;'I'm good thanks and how about you?'&lt;/strong&gt;, would you have no regrets or broken hearts to mend, would you have lived or existed, would you have cared or would you have escaped it all? Would you have lived every day of your life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;You don't have to do big things to have lived life. You don't have to achieve the highest to have felt life. You don't have to hold a big position to know about life. You don't have to go to parties or have a flashy car to feel that you have a great life. Just 'live' in every small moment that you're given, feel them fully, bask in them and grasp the messages that life sends you without a fee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;May you 'live' every day of your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what was your last 48hrs like? Let me know ;-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Sultans Of Swing&lt;/strong&gt; (LIVE) by &lt;strong&gt;Dire Straits&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-6145250117699296568?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6145250117699296568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6145250117699296568' title='90 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6145250117699296568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6145250117699296568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/last-48hrs.html' title='The Last 48hrs'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmQNXwk8lTI/AAAAAAAAHUo/w1cf3crllcQ/s72-c/kwhite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>90</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1296439322642431167</id><published>2009-07-17T12:22:00.094+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-17T20:48:14.927+10:30</updated><title type='text'>I Spy With My Little Heart...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmAR9op1ecI/AAAAAAAAHUg/c9H0Su0gdag/s1600-h/lmask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359303307153471938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmAR9op1ecI/AAAAAAAAHUg/c9H0Su0gdag/s320/lmask.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmAMQm7jYpI/AAAAAAAAHUQ/F3U7ceUtOPM/s1600-h/lmask.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1. I know what you are. You're the 'dictator' of my actions. You are &lt;strong&gt;EGO&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;2. I know what you are. You're the 'messenger' of my soul. You are&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;3. I know what you are. You're the 'preserver' of my decay. You are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ANGER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;4. I know what you are. You're the 'protector' of my sanity. You are&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;HUMOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The top solvers are &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Shachi&lt;/strong&gt;! You guys nailed all 4 of them, congrattz woohoo! You get the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Works Of Heart'&lt;/strong&gt; award&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;from Keshi! :) Enjoy it and welldone guys! It's not that easy to read someone else's mind and get all the answers right too. You're brilliant &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Shachi&lt;/strong&gt;, I don't think I could have done that. And, thanks &lt;strong&gt;ALL&lt;/strong&gt; others too for the great attempt there and I must say, each and everyone of you had a very good understanding of the riddles and intended answers. Most of you got almost all of them right and that's great :). And though we all had somewhat different answers to each one of the riddles, it only goes to show &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sl_jA4qkVRI/AAAAAAAAHUA/H9wLFhfOhX8/s1600-h/woh.png"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359251685944612114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 177px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sl_jA4qkVRI/AAAAAAAAHUA/H9wLFhfOhX8/s400/woh.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that each and everyone of us perceive life differently.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;That's the beauty of humans...we all see the same thing in many different ways, so we interpret the same thing in many different ways.&lt;/span&gt; So, good on all of ya! :) I loved all your various interpretations. Made me learn alot about my own perceptions too. Thanks alot for taking part and welldone all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;No Love In Town?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmAKi1H9shI/AAAAAAAAHUI/INTAJ03sosg/s1600-h/loves.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Is Love playing Hide &amp;amp; Seek with you? Looking for a love supreme? Feeling deprived? All the best women are married? All the handsome men are gay? And all those best friends are nowhere to be found? Your heart cant find Love anywhere around you? o well, Love is the hardest thing to find and implement. Isn't it? I guess alot of us are looking in all the wrong places, that's why. Love is not in someone else. It is not in some other place. It is not in the money we make or the looks we possess. It is not in the amount of friends you make or the kind of romance you have in your life. It is neither in the number of achievements or assets you have. &lt;strong&gt;It is in the quality of what you give to others, no matter who/what that other person is.&lt;/strong&gt; Love is in you. It is nowhere else but in you. Still, you feel derpived and that love is nowhere to be found, even as you give it to others? So you go searching for someone to give it to you. Now you finally feel happy. And then after some time, it all falls apart and you hate that person. What happened to the Love? You didn't find love in the first place...you were only looking for company...someone to make you feel appreciated in this lonely world. But Company is not Love. Company is just Company. Love is not in your Marriage certificate or in the Engagement ring or in your Facebook friend-list. For I know so many marriages and friends without Love.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Love isnt a race, a competition, a requirement or a societal obligation.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;We feel so loveless cos &lt;strong&gt;we&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;are not opening our hearts in a way that we don't mind not getting anything in return.&lt;/strong&gt; Love is not selfish, conditional or selective. It doesn't expect to be loved back equally.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It surpasses everything else in &lt;strong&gt;quality&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It's content on it's own...standing alone...giving somehow, even when not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;receiving anything in return...existing without being dependent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;...forever flowing like a river, cutting through all it's barriers, until it reaches it's destination, where it shines in it's optimal bliss not willing to falter one bit.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;It doesn't seek for company alone, it seeks to &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmANU0TPcuI/AAAAAAAAHUY/nDGUhKsirRg/s1600-h/lover.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359298207858782946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmANU0TPcuI/AAAAAAAAHUY/nDGUhKsirRg/s320/lover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;reach out and do what it's meant to do, even when receiving nothing in return. Just like how a river flows in it's carefree dance of nature. With or without you, I continue to blossom and flow&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not deprived cos I'm Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This weekend, I have a dinner to attend tomorrow night with some friends. And I also have some catching up to do with a long lost friend. I'm gonna surprise him by calling him after 2 long years...wonder what he's upto. Cos the last time I heard from him, he was in the middle of a divorce after just 2yrs of being married, and then I lost touch with him. In his own words, he told me that that was the 'wrongest' choice he had made in his life...and that was a&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOVE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;marriage. Have a good weekend guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Supreme&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;strong&gt; Robbie Williams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1296439322642431167?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1296439322642431167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1296439322642431167' title='76 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1296439322642431167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1296439322642431167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-spy-with-my-little-heart.html' title='I Spy With My Little &lt;em&gt;Heart&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SmAR9op1ecI/AAAAAAAAHUg/c9H0Su0gdag/s72-c/lmask.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>76</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6191090988048660078</id><published>2009-07-14T12:32:00.072+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-15T12:12:48.129+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Riddle Me This, Riddle Me That...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Slv6BiuuhnI/AAAAAAAAHTw/XUx4ld1-P_0/s1600-h/mmask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358151086096942706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Slv6BiuuhnI/AAAAAAAAHTw/XUx4ld1-P_0/s320/mmask.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a set of 4 riddles created by Keshi. Yes I'm on a mission to test your analytical skills on a personal level ;-). No you don't have to be a master of life or a great philosopher to get it right. It's only a matter of having some fun in a game with a touch of reality. All you have to do is try and solve these riddles to the best of your abilities.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;After all, the riddles were written by a mere mortal herself :).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;clue:&lt;/strong&gt; They are all 1 word answers.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*great clue there ha Keshi!;-)* &lt;/span&gt;All the best! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You don't have to get them all right, but if you do, you'll have a surprise in the next post ;-).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; You try to drop me, but I refuse to be dropped. You try to please me, and I can never get enough. You try to leave me, but I make you leave others. You try to climb on me, but I sit on top of you. You give in to my desires and lick my feet. I am the hardest to tame, the easiest to feel and I hurt the most even when I'm slightly shattered. So, you better take good care of me! Cos I think I'm the most 'important' thing about you, yes I am! &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; I know that I have so much potential. I am the only way people can truly be happy. By giving me to others and to themselves, I know people would finally set themselves free. I sound so easy to acquire, but in real I am the hardest thing to find and to implement. I wish more people truly understood me though, for I know that if I am utilised to my utmost potential, I can heal and even prevent alot of misunderstandings and misdeeds. I sit here waiting to be picked up by all of you. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; I don't let anyone move on. Cos I believe in burning in raging flames. I believe in carrying on with the past somehow. I have a neverending love affair with the past. I won't let you see the present or the future. I wish to remain in what happened and not in what should happen next. Forget about forgetting, indulge in me! I won't let you progress cos I thrive in my own world...I love to see smoke and ashes of what was once fresh and lively. I can destroy everything for you as long as you hold on to me and never let go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; If you find me under most situations, then you're really lucky. Take me seriously and your life will be alot less serious...yes you heard that right! Some people make good use of me, some others use me to get across a real message and some others misuse me in bad taste. I can be the best motivator even on your darkest day. But it's amazing how most people don't bother to call on me, not even once in a while although I'm free and available all the time. I'm a sense in you that you can tickle your way up to good health and a well-lived life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Have a go. Answers and top solvers (getting all 4 answers right) will be announced in the next post. Also, &lt;strong&gt;do tell me which one was your favourite out of the 4.&lt;/strong&gt; Now let's see what comes out of this post. I cant wait to read all the comments. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlwaHT7nEvI/AAAAAAAAHT4/KDkg40Ch1NU/s1600-h/hl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358186369575752434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlwaHT7nEvI/AAAAAAAAHT4/KDkg40Ch1NU/s320/hl1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On other news, right now I'm 6 feet from the 'edge'. Last week I had a moment where after reading an email, my coffee and brekky suddenly went cold. Cos I couldn't eat anymore...I was shattered. But later on, that email itself made a revolution inside my head...it had lead me to contemplate a major change in my life - something that would make me shed what I'm &lt;strong&gt;'used to', &lt;/strong&gt;and tap into 'bettering' my life. So, that means even something that makes you instantly lose your appetite can be a the trigger for a hidden change that's waiting to happen...a good change. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sometimes disappointments, offense and rejection are the best motivators in life. They make you go and do things that you've never even imagined doing. They give you a heads up on new horizons waiting to be conquered.&lt;/span&gt; M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;aybe 6 feet ain't so far down then? I strongly believe there's always something new to discover from every turn-off, every bad news, &lt;strong&gt;every riddle&lt;/strong&gt; &amp;amp; every lost track, and I know I will find a new path somehow...I'll solve it. Always have faith in &lt;strong&gt;yourself&lt;/strong&gt;. Now don't forget the above riddles, catch ya all soon! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Six Feet From The Edge&lt;/strong&gt; (one last breath) by &lt;strong&gt;Creed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-6191090988048660078?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6191090988048660078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6191090988048660078' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6191090988048660078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6191090988048660078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/riddle-me-this-riddle-me-that.html' title='Riddle Me This, Riddle Me That...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Slv6BiuuhnI/AAAAAAAAHTw/XUx4ld1-P_0/s72-c/mmask.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5397214233424307480</id><published>2009-07-11T10:38:00.046+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-12T09:26:58.690+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Are You Blessed?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was thinking to myself...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone can 'look' beautiful, but not everyone can 'be' beautiful.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Also&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Everyone can 'move on' but not everyone can 'let go'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Do you have anything to say about the above thoughts, or any such thoughts to share with me? Fill in these blanks then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone can ______, but not everyone can ______.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Think carefully, use your imagination, personal experiences and knowledge, and fill in the blanks. Let's learn from one another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Have a good weekend guys!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlfgFS4_IeI/AAAAAAAAHTo/B_6wW-T0n4Y/s1600-h/f2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356996663355318754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlfgFS4_IeI/AAAAAAAAHTo/B_6wW-T0n4Y/s320/f2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PS: My sincere apologies for not being to your blogs lately, cos I was extremely busy at work and at home too...too many engagements, both work-wise and personal. At work I have been running around to clients' offices, and at home, I have been flat out with family and friends. Will visit you all as soon as I get some 'quality' time to blog ok. Take care and thanks for all the love here, even in my absence. It means alot to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Everyone can make you cry, but not everyone can make you laugh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Everyone can leave, but not everyone can last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone can breathe, but not everyone can live.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone can frown, but not everyone can smile.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music:&lt;strong&gt; Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life &lt;/strong&gt;(from Monty Python)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5397214233424307480?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5397214233424307480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5397214233424307480' title='132 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5397214233424307480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5397214233424307480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-was-thinking-to-myself.html' title='Are You Blessed?'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlfgFS4_IeI/AAAAAAAAHTo/B_6wW-T0n4Y/s72-c/f2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>132</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3775980575637892777</id><published>2009-07-08T14:34:00.025+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-08T15:23:40.947+10:30</updated><title type='text'>A Midsummer Night's Tears...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I never dreamed you'd leave in Summer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I thought you would go then come back home &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I thought the cold would leave by Summer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But my quiet nights will be spent alone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You said there would be warm love in Springtime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;That is when you started to be cold &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I never dreamed you'd leave in Summer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But now I find myself all alone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You said then you'd be the life in Autumn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Said you'd be the one to see the way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You know I never dreamed you'd leave in Summer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;But now I find my love has gone away &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Why didn't you stay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlQjRCkCB3I/AAAAAAAAHTg/sVfvjfVNsIw/s1600-h/sum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355944632503109490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlQjRCkCB3I/AAAAAAAAHTg/sVfvjfVNsIw/s320/sum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Woke up to my alarm at 2:30am last night, sat infront of the TV for the next 3hrs watching the most touching memorial my spirit has ever known. I just choked up with tears at this particular song by Stevie Wonder - &lt;strong&gt;Never&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Dreamed You'd Leave in Summer&lt;/strong&gt;...the song has an amazing touch that grips your soul and leaves you feeling every emotion in it. I was just bawling my eyes out til dawn. Paris Jackson you spoke very little my dear, but you spoke volumes for the world to know what a wonderful man your dad was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For someone to touch so many hearts in every corner of the world and across all cultures , to break all barriers, to create such a massive emotional outburst, to stop the world and leave it feeling so very empty, to create such a hype, &lt;strong&gt;a man has to be very very special.&lt;/strong&gt; Amen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I never dreamed you'd leave in Summer... ... ...why didn't you stay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Never Dreamed You'd Leave In Summer&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Stevie Wonder &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-3775980575637892777?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3775980575637892777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3775980575637892777' title='43 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3775980575637892777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3775980575637892777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/midsummer-nights-tears.html' title='A Midsummer Night&apos;s &lt;em&gt;Tears&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SlQjRCkCB3I/AAAAAAAAHTg/sVfvjfVNsIw/s72-c/sum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>43</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1804278144425413950</id><published>2009-07-05T10:34:00.017+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-05T20:27:40.380+10:30</updated><title type='text'>A Silent Requiem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk_1x9MZ6HI/AAAAAAAAHTY/SemLFgw7dTs/s1600-h/orng.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354768720555796594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk_1x9MZ6HI/AAAAAAAAHTY/SemLFgw7dTs/s320/orng.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As a mark of respect and love, there wont be any new posts here til my fav humanitarian MJ is farewelled. I cannot seem to write anymore, I don't know why. Sorry guys. Words fail me and even though I wrote more than 1 tribute post to MJ, the pain doesn't seem to subside...it only seems to grow. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And now I wanna remain silent.&lt;/span&gt; And his final rehearsal vid made me cry so much I have never cried that much in such a long time. I swear I don't want to see that vid again, it hurts so much...his wide, genuine and that beautiful trademark Jacko smile after the lights were dimmed, will haunt me for life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are other posts below that you can read until I start writing again. I have disabled comments on this one. Take care and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;LOVE one another, for the Love that MJ created both in his life and in his death has now been revealed to the world, and he united the world in his Death...embrace that Love. &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Live in love, appreciate people when they are around, hurt none, give without expecting, do something good for someone, be kind, be compassionate, let go, smile, reach out, forgive, be the bigger person, work on it, live for today, give thanks, be true to yourselves,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;stop existing and start living...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll see yous later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1804278144425413950?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1804278144425413950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1804278144425413950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/silent-requiem.html' title='A Silent Requiem...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk_1x9MZ6HI/AAAAAAAAHTY/SemLFgw7dTs/s72-c/orng.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5309331228149401337</id><published>2009-07-03T13:45:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-03T14:29:22.691+10:30</updated><title type='text'>A Place Where There's Space...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkxPMNAB4NI/AAAAAAAAHSg/T-xxCGQTCm8/s1600-h/white3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353741128103485650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkxPMNAB4NI/AAAAAAAAHSg/T-xxCGQTCm8/s320/white3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As a die-hard fan of Jacko, I seem to be grieving indefinitely. I cannot express enough how very sad I have been feeling in the last few days and how much of a personal sense of loss his death is to me. I don't feel like doing anything and I'm not myself at all, and I know my b'day will never be the same again. I'm so disturbed by his death, I don't think I'll ever be the same again. A part of me died along with his death. &lt;strong&gt;You may be surprised cos I didn't know him personally...but I knew him on an emotional level through his music, dance and lyrics.&lt;/strong&gt; His life, his passion, his fears, his love, his triumphs, his demons, his last few years, his death...they have all changed the way I see the world now. Yes rockstars can have such an effect on you cos some &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ARTISTS BRING LIFE TO LIFE.&lt;/span&gt; The Keshi that was pre-MJ's death is no more. Drama? Not really. Cos if you didn't grow up with his music, you'd never know how I feel would you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; You don't know how it feels when MJ's music creeps into your body and soul do you? You don't know what it is to have his music running through your veins do you? A singer has never touched me this 'personally' through his music and lyrics...&lt;strong&gt;he wrote and sang life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkxfkPQTrmI/AAAAAAAAHS4/fJSd4-aG0Pg/s1600-h/mike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353759133211536994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 272px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkxfkPQTrmI/AAAAAAAAHS4/fJSd4-aG0Pg/s320/mike.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;He is moonwalking to Heaven right now.&lt;/span&gt; I somehow find some small comfort in the fact that MJ has left a world where people didn't leave him alone...where sadly people chose not to see the greatness in him, instead to concentrate on his personal life. &lt;strong&gt;It's harder and takes more guts to trust someone than to assume things about them.&lt;/strong&gt; But most people chose the easier option and made life hell for Jacko. He stood out in the crowd, and some people couldn't stand it.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; He not only made great music but he gave so much to Charity and to the world, and lived in Love.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;He was a great Humanitarian in every sense.&lt;/span&gt; Yet people who wanted to make money out of him used him to their advantage. It's appalling to realise what a sick world we live in...a world where some people would do anything for a quick buck and 15mins of fame and attention. I can't believe some people are still going on with sick jokes and judgements about him. All the rumors about his hair, his skin, his sexuality, his habits, his this and that&lt;strong&gt;...how does it matter to you??&lt;/strong&gt; Take a good look at your own selves before you point fingers at others. Just live and let live! And just STFU will ya. &lt;strong&gt;He's dead now...there's no need to kill a dead man, is there?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk1mj49guhI/AAAAAAAAHTI/m7bUvJCKQaI/s1600-h/mjf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354048298785225234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk1mj49guhI/AAAAAAAAHTI/m7bUvJCKQaI/s320/mjf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How do you say Goodbye to someone you don't want to say Goodbye to? I usually do it this way...I believe that they are going to a better place...a place that they will be happier and that they are leaving for the best. That's how I say Goodbye to someone I don't want to see leaving. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Death is not a punishment...sometimes it can be the ultimate peace you waited for&lt;/span&gt;. Sometimes Nature has a way of claiming life when it's just &lt;strong&gt;better&lt;/strong&gt; that way. I hope Jacko found Peace now. As much as I'm deeply saddened by his untimely death, I'm happy for him too...I'm happy that he's in a better place now&lt;strong&gt;...a place where there is space...where hearts are not small and love is not for sale.&lt;/strong&gt; Where there is enough &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;room&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for acceptance, forgiveness and unconditional love. He's at a higher state of being now, on a completely fresh plane of the spirit world. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Goodbye MJ, you were one of a kind! Know that with all your ups and downs, you were just PERFECT. You really healed the world.&lt;/span&gt; Hopefully we will get to listen to your voice, watch your cool moves and dance with you again in another time, at another place. God bless your superenergetic and beautiful spirit! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;XOXO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk1-Eyq4NtI/AAAAAAAAHTQ/9cgM9NASAO0/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354074152799581906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sk1-Eyq4NtI/AAAAAAAAHTQ/9cgM9NASAO0/s320/heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you have enough space in your heart to accommodate someone that is not you? Does your heart have enough room for others? Is it a spacious place for love or is it cramped up with you alone? It doesn't take much to create some space for others...just a little space?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;There's a place in&lt;br /&gt;Your heart&lt;br /&gt;And I know that it is Love&lt;br /&gt;And this place could&lt;br /&gt;Be much&lt;br /&gt;Brighter than tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;And if you really try&lt;br /&gt;You'll find there's no need&lt;br /&gt;To cry&lt;br /&gt;In this place you'll feel&lt;br /&gt;There's no hurt or sorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are ways&lt;br /&gt;To get there&lt;br /&gt;If you care enough&lt;br /&gt;For the Living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Make a little space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Make a better place...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Heal The World&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5309331228149401337?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5309331228149401337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5309331228149401337' title='50 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5309331228149401337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5309331228149401337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/place-where-theres-space.html' title='A Place Where There&apos;s &lt;em&gt;Space&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkxPMNAB4NI/AAAAAAAAHSg/T-xxCGQTCm8/s72-c/white3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>50</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-4615653548819669035</id><published>2009-07-01T12:36:00.044+10:30</published><updated>2009-07-01T13:43:22.849+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Birth, Life &amp; Death Of A Feeling...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrOJOwyDBI/AAAAAAAAHSQ/HOOUonMM2s8/s1600-h/kbeat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353317765060103186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrOJOwyDBI/AAAAAAAAHSQ/HOOUonMM2s8/s320/kbeat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrKT7FcnwI/AAAAAAAAHSA/qnMxAQeTXe8/s1600-h/badk.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;You decorated yourself with lies. You bought me with your fake persona. You promised me bullshit. You wasted my time. You lured me into believing you. And then one day, you just shed your mask. &lt;strong&gt;And I saw the beauty that wasn't you. I saw it falling apart...down to the floor, shaking the grounds and the very core of my heart.&lt;/strong&gt; I saw it break into a million pieces. I picked up one piece, that had cut my skin and made me bleed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurt for awhile. But today when I woke up, I couldn't find that longing in my heart for you anymore. &lt;strong&gt;It had left my being without my knowledge.&lt;/strong&gt; Something that I thought would never leave me, had now expired. Something that I thought would haunt me for the rest of my life, had now left me in my sleep. Something that I tried to kill countless times, had now killed itself without any attempt from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrNTTD8sTI/AAAAAAAAHSI/KT5hBnvlvgk/s1600-h/bab2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353316838501298482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrNTTD8sTI/AAAAAAAAHSI/KT5hBnvlvgk/s320/bab2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes our desires, longings, wants and cries may go unheard today...people may hurt you again and again, and you may wonder why that it is so, and why it's happening only to you. And you may try to kill the feelings so very hard, you may do anything and everything to bury it and move on, &lt;strong&gt;but it returns to you the very next day.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So you nurse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; it like a baby, you look forward to it's touch, you become the feeling and the feeling becomes you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;You wait for it to switch on every single day the moment you wake up. You live by it no matter how much it hurts you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And it&lt;/span&gt; keeps repeating itself for days and months, and even years. But, one day you will wake up and realise it's gone. Gone for good. &lt;strong&gt;And you can't get it back even if you try to...even if you try feeling that way again.&lt;/strong&gt; You may search your entire heart to catch that same feeling again, but it's not there anymore. At first, you struggle, you feel uncomfortable not feeling that way again. But you realise that it had decided to die on it's own...it had beaten itself to it's own demise. And you are free again. You can't even believe it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrO2RCASYI/AAAAAAAAHSY/_n-LsHObcLA/s1600-h/mjshoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353318538763323778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrO2RCASYI/AAAAAAAAHSY/_n-LsHObcLA/s320/mjshoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have become resilient to hurt. You will never get to me again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every feeling has a birth and a death. Give it some time. Bask in it fully. &lt;strong&gt;And one day, it will be gone, just like that. And you are free to stand on your own 2 feet again. &lt;/strong&gt;And when the same feeling returns on another occasion, you are better equipped to handle it this time. And you know that it will leave you again some day. So, don't shun your feelings, and don't depend on them too much either. For most of them are temporary...most of them has an expiry date, just like anything that's alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;No one wants to be defeated&lt;br /&gt;Show them how funky strong is your fight...&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter who's wrong or right&lt;br /&gt;Just beat it,&lt;strong&gt; just beat it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music:&lt;strong&gt; Beat It&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-4615653548819669035?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4615653548819669035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=4615653548819669035' title='103 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4615653548819669035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4615653548819669035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/birth-and-death-of-feeling.html' title='The Birth, Life &amp; Death Of A &lt;em&gt;Feeling&lt;/em&gt;...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkrOJOwyDBI/AAAAAAAAHSQ/HOOUonMM2s8/s72-c/kbeat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>103</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5806439630330389005</id><published>2009-06-29T13:34:00.064+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-29T21:31:24.020+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Take Me As I Am...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;Note:&lt;/strong&gt; for my tribute post to Jacko, please read last post)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/strong&gt; Please note that this post is not yet another post for my bday. I already did one last week :). This post is to highlight the importance of accepting one another for who they are and forgiving one another somehow. Please read the post before you comment. I don't want people to dimiss the message in the post at the sight of the cake. Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skhnwyuwx7I/AAAAAAAAHR4/fs-gzMy66lQ/s1600-h/kjcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352642245079123890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skhnwyuwx7I/AAAAAAAAHR4/fs-gzMy66lQ/s320/kjcake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the lovely bday cake my cuz made for me...I love it, totally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwBKLBNdI/AAAAAAAAHQ4/-Cfv4zpaOB4/s1600-h/100_1866.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352580953598408146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwBKLBNdI/AAAAAAAAHQ4/-Cfv4zpaOB4/s320/100_1866.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;She first asked me if I wanted a particuar cake. I asked her to make anything she wanted, with what she knew about me so far...I asked her to use her imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skgv5WfYc3I/AAAAAAAAHQw/k8wbsRR_GJM/s1600-h/100_1839.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352580819466089330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skgv5WfYc3I/AAAAAAAAHQw/k8wbsRR_GJM/s320/100_1839.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;She came up with SHOES ofcourse! ;-) Isn't she brilliant? Manolo Blahniks on a neatly iced Pink cake...very girly and very KESHI to say the least ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwG1INTzI/AAAAAAAAHRA/atxEJ8u_r1A/s1600-h/100_1838.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352581051028688690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwG1INTzI/AAAAAAAAHRA/atxEJ8u_r1A/s320/100_1838.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;These are the 3 cakes that she made for me, my mum and another cuz...we all celebrated our bdays together yesterday at my cuzn T's place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*click on pics to enlarge*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amazing night. &lt;strong&gt;It was a &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkhnMef9AlI/AAAAAAAAHRw/0xZIbehAUNY/s1600-h/kjcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;3-bday marathon that totally rocked!&lt;/strong&gt; And yes, &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwLxwmleI/AAAAAAAAHRI/fw35sjBVbNA/s1600-h/100_1842.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352581136023721442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkgwLxwmleI/AAAAAAAAHRI/fw35sjBVbNA/s320/100_1842.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;though I didnt want to have a party this year, my cousins and friends insisted that I had one and I'm glad I went. We had a great time...family, friends, great food, lots of sweet presents (omg I got a Versace perfume set too! And Lingerie &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*now I'd have to wear em and show em to myself!* &lt;/span&gt;and some other hot items as well...). &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And I wanna thank &lt;strong&gt;TT&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Hemz&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Krys, Jay&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Suree&lt;/strong&gt; for making beautiful bday blog posts for me last week, and for &lt;strong&gt;ALL&lt;/strong&gt; your wishes here in my blog, emails, txts and calls!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*TY n MWAH!*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg6VaKXj4I/AAAAAAAAHRQ/oRfvqxCnk4s/s1600-h/keshjj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352592296604307330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg6VaKXj4I/AAAAAAAAHRQ/oRfvqxCnk4s/s320/keshjj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And ofcourse Music. Wherever Keshi goes, Music follows too. Without Music, there won't be a Keshi. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last night at the party, it was 'strictly' Michael Jackson.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; There were countless times in my life when I didn't wanna get out of my car cos I wanted to finish listening to the MJ song that was playing in my car. Right now in my car CD-player, there's a MJ cd in there. I loved his music to death. So last night at the party, we all wanted to remember him, his music and yes we boogied the night away to his great dance numbers. Blame it on Jacko, cos he infected us with the dance virus and now we can't get rid of it! However, though I was at a party, I was feeling this very personal sense of loss and I couldn't get my mind away from his death. I know, that with his death, a part of me died too. In between my dancing, I cried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I always danced to forget...but last night, I danced to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After MJ's death, I will never look at life under the same light again. There are alot of unanswered questions and alot of judgements. &lt;strong&gt;People talk about Jacko as if they never make a mistake in their entire lives.&lt;/strong&gt; Jackson had feelings and a heart too, just like you and me. He's somebody's son, somebody's brother, somebody...just like you and me. The difference is he GAVE alot to the world and got nothing much in return. He still didn't care, he continued doing what he's best at doing. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And if our personal lives and our every move &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;were to be on the News, I'm sure we'd all be labelled 'crazy' too.&lt;/span&gt; No one has the right to judge another's personal life. We all have our likes, dis&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg7viW2y5I/AAAAAAAAHRY/eCoFqGrvack/s1600-h/mj.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352593844992396178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg7viW2y5I/AAAAAAAAHRY/eCoFqGrvack/s320/mj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;likes, ways, perferences, lifestyles, attitudes, wierdness, similarities, differences, the best and the worst. That means we are all the same on scales. So let's not play God. We are all human and being such a public figure, and living such a public life, I'm sure Jacko had his own share of demons to fight every single day&lt;strong&gt;...demons that people like us would never know of. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I wonder why people can never accept someone 'different'. Is there some kind of strict code that people have to follow in life? I don't think so. We all get different challenges thrown at us in life, we all deal with them differently, we all have different views. &lt;/span&gt;Bite it folks, we may all be the same but we are all different. That's the beauty of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg77VLCIGI/AAAAAAAAHRg/tc0mCAPHCFA/s1600-h/mj2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352594047611576418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skg77VLCIGI/AAAAAAAAHRg/tc0mCAPHCFA/s320/mj2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you accept people for who they are?&lt;/span&gt; I do. You know why? Cos I myself make mistakes, may appear crazy to you, may be different, may have a life that's not just like your's...but this is me...this is my life. &lt;strong&gt;And I'd like to be accepted for who I am, and not for who you want me to be.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Do you forgive people?&lt;/span&gt; I do. I give people second chances. Cos I'd like to be forgiven when I make mistakes too, cos I'm only human. And I know you are too. We can beat someone up endlessly for a mistake they did or for being different, but that doesn't make us any better than them. But if we choose to accept people for who they are, forgive one another, then really, that would make you a better person than many out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;One day in your life, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I hope you'll remember all the people you met in your life path, and be glad that you accepted them for who they were, and not for what you wanted them to be...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One day in your life&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember the love you found here&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember me somehow&lt;br /&gt;Though you dont need me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will stay in your heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when things fall apart&lt;br /&gt;You'll remember one day . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;One Day In Your Life &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5806439630330389005?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5806439630330389005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5806439630330389005' title='149 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5806439630330389005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5806439630330389005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/take-me-as-i-am.html' title='Take Me As I Am...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Skhnwyuwx7I/AAAAAAAAHR4/fs-gzMy66lQ/s72-c/kjcake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>149</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7291628967729942340</id><published>2009-06-27T10:09:00.035+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-27T18:34:34.280+10:30</updated><title type='text'>You Beat It Jacko!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkVfwi0FcTI/AAAAAAAAHQk/UN3RzJmRzxs/s1600-h/MJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351789019783328050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkVfwi0FcTI/AAAAAAAAHQk/UN3RzJmRzxs/s320/MJ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I grew up with his music. I grew up trying to moonwalk like him. I know almost ALL his songs and lyrics by heart. I always wanted to dance and move so smoothely like him. I admired him so very much. I respect and love his work from the ultimate core of my SOUL. His music took me through some of my toughest times. His song BEN (that I played often in my blog and very recently too) always made me feel that I'm not alone. His song BEAT IT brought out the devil-dancer in me. His song BAD made me feel it's ok to be me, with all my flaws. His song BLACK OR WHITE and HEAL THE WORLD revolutionised our Thinking. BILLIE JEAN is my ultimate 'move it' song. All of MJ's songs are a huge part of me now, that will live and die with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacko created a new dimension in Music...one that got etched in Music history, that belongs to him and him alone. Jacko is a Music legend no matter what people say about his personal life - not that it matters anyways. I have great respect for MJ &amp;amp; for his work, and I know that people who judge him can never achieve what he achieved in his short life. He is a genius. His work excelled all the negative publicity he got towards the end of his life. Those who cannot see his expertise are poorer for not being able to recognise his unique genetic brilliance.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He is Body, Soul, Rhythm, Precision, Technique, Brilliance, Performance, Dedication, Professionalism, Strength, Heat, Devotion, Passion, Talent, Charisma and LOVE. Jacko you beat it mate! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;WE LOVE AND MISS YA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; The world is poorer today for losing you way before your time. Thank You for the great music and the passion that you brought to our lives! Your legacy will never die&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;. There will never be another Jacko and there will never be another dancer like him. &lt;strong&gt;No one else in the world can MOVE like ya MJ! &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*lotsa tears*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I will be playing MJ songs for the next few posts as a tribute to one of my fav singers and performers ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;People always told me be careful of what you do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;And mother always told me be careful of who you love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;And be careful of what you do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;'cause the lie becomes the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Billie Jean&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7291628967729942340?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7291628967729942340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7291628967729942340' title='109 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7291628967729942340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7291628967729942340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-beat-it-jacko.html' title='You Beat It Jacko!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkVfwi0FcTI/AAAAAAAAHQk/UN3RzJmRzxs/s72-c/MJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>109</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-9024127826624631216</id><published>2009-06-25T09:30:00.041+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:59:32.648+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere I've Never Been...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Day I Flashed Myself To The Doctors!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG4K95VV1I/AAAAAAAAHP0/PBPB-n_i6gM/s1600-h/bab1.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350760330846099282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG4K95VV1I/AAAAAAAAHP0/PBPB-n_i6gM/s320/bab1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ok I know I'm vain but hey I aint superficial ok! Yes, that rather 'sentimental' day of the year has stumbled upon me again...&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;it's my Birthday today!&lt;/span&gt; And I'm telling you all this cos I'm an average, selfish, attention-seeking humanbeing who would love to get some kisses, hugs and wishes on this day that I was born some 'aeons' ago! Atleast your Love would make me feel like a baby again and not some prehistoric dynasaur aging into extinction right? THANKS ALL IN ADVANCE for the Love on this day! ;-) &lt;strong&gt;Now are ya ready to learn how to love? &lt;/strong&gt;Then read on...yes Keshi is giving you 'lectures' even on her birthday...deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Unplanning&lt;/em&gt; My Life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5U-GP1nI/AAAAAAAAHP8/EY3I90hnImA/s1600-h/diary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350761602210584178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5U-GP1nI/AAAAAAAAHP8/EY3I90hnImA/s320/diary.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some of my friends asked me what my 'plans' were for today &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I hardly PLAN anything anymore*&lt;/span&gt;. Some others asked me if I was going to 'throw' a party &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*wonder who would CATCH it*&lt;/span&gt;. Some asked me if I was going out at night with friends to 'celebrate' &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*ehh CELEBRATE what? The fact that I was born on this day or the fact that I'm still alive? I choose the latter*&lt;/span&gt;. A friend asked if I was gonna get pampered on this day with a nice haircut or a glam-doll look with a hot new outfit &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I lookafter myself even on an ORDINARY day*&lt;/span&gt;. Actually I'm doing none of those things today. Woke up to some lovely surprises by mum and sis, and alot of txt msgs, cards, calls and whatnots from far far away. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kath, Cess, Ria, Kavi, Joyce, Maddy &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Margie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; you guys were the first to wish me this year - THANKS for remembering me so dearly lovelies! I'm at work right now and the rest of the day will go as usual, but with floodgates of bday wishes opening very soon! My wonderful cousins and mates are planning a huge bday party for me on Sunday. I begged them not to but they insist that I attend it or they are gonna torture me with a cattle-prod! I think I will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Year &lt;em&gt;Younger&lt;/em&gt; Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5ZP1bqUI/AAAAAAAAHQE/3szEKgpC1EQ/s1600-h/gr1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350761675691370818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5ZP1bqUI/AAAAAAAAHQE/3szEKgpC1EQ/s320/gr1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I realise something new this year. Something 'fresh' and 'youthful' about me. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With every birthday I seem to be getting 'younger';-).&lt;/span&gt; Surprised? Now don't get me wrong...I didn't mean that with every birthday I get a Botox done or that I end up looking like a Barbie doll with FF boobs that never stop being perky! Now that can never happen with Age anyways...&lt;strong&gt;our BODIES can only get older.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;But yes, our MINDS can get younger, that is if we want to. &lt;/strong&gt;What I meant by getting younger with every birthday was, &lt;strong&gt;that my attitude and approach to life and people around me has become youthful and fresh...innocent and purer than before.&lt;/strong&gt; Yes we can learn to be pure again, if we try. Now let me tell you WHERE I am today, after all these years of LIFE on Earth. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm able to forgive easily than I used to be&lt;/span&gt;...I wonder why I couldn't do it before...I wonder why people so stubbornly hold on to their egos that might make them regret later...even I used to be like that before, but not anymore. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can apologise more easily too&lt;/span&gt;...I used to have a little bit of pride and take time to say Sorry...but now whenever I'm wrong, I say it out loud, just like how a kid would. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can apply that wonderful quote by &lt;strong&gt;Morrie Shwartz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (in the book &lt;strong&gt;'Tuesdays With Morrie'&lt;/strong&gt;)&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;'Love is the only rational act'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;to my life than I could before.&lt;/span&gt; When someone hurts me, I still get upset and react a little, but I seem to hold no grudges anymore..not for too long anyways. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I seem to feel my emotions fully than I used to before&lt;/span&gt;...I used to run away from my emotions, as if they were a beast. Now I let them flow fully and I let them make me the person that I'm supposed to be&lt;strong&gt;...just like a child.&lt;/strong&gt; I live it like it is. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm a &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5-EhpFyI/AAAAAAAAHQM/QTCt9qUnte4/s1600-h/kesh1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350762308310734626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG5-EhpFyI/AAAAAAAAHQM/QTCt9qUnte4/s320/kesh1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;confident and honest woman, yet a sensitive and a blunt child&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;I'm 'living' more than I used to.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I have realised the pangs of life that I often seem to have ignored&lt;/span&gt;...now I give them attention and just go with the flow...just like a careless kid, &lt;strong&gt;careless about what's around her and what people would think about her next move.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I don't think and act 'collectively' anymore,&lt;/span&gt; just to be safe or to feel appreciated..I am myself, I make decisions alone and I'm not afraid of being laughed at. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I trust people more than I used to...&lt;/span&gt;I don't force my opinion on them anymore and I trust that they can handle things themselves. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm no longer afraid to show the sensitive side of me...&lt;/span&gt;I'm not going to pretend that I don't cry or that I'm not a drama queen. I have realised I'd rather be as soft as a child than as hard as a rock that never 'felt' anything. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When I hear music I'd just get up and dance no matter where I am...&lt;/span&gt;for my mind cannot deny the rhythm it want my body to follow.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; I'm more responsive to people now, both loved-ones and total strangers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;what is the value of life if you can't be responsive and pay attention to one another? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I believe in the simple life than I used to&lt;/span&gt;...I see the beauty of living a normal day, even if it's my birthday, just doing some gardening, chatting to mum, having a good nap and taking a nice long bath. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To me, that is a &lt;strong&gt;Celebration of Life.&lt;/strong&gt; I don't have the perfect life but I know I do appreciate life every single day in a way that most people don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Mind Lasts &lt;em&gt;Longer&lt;/em&gt; And Is &lt;em&gt;Stronger&lt;/em&gt; Than The Body...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG6SNvsuFI/AAAAAAAAHQU/fvtCbR6xZKo/s1600-h/wom2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350762654382995538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG6SNvsuFI/AAAAAAAAHQU/fvtCbR6xZKo/s320/wom2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With every year of Life that I have gained on Earth, I have mentally shed my 'adulthood' and gained 'youth' in quite a 'mature' way. &lt;strong&gt;With every physical change that has happened in me, I have gained mental substance. &lt;/strong&gt;I no longer wish I was still 18 or 21. For why would I crave for a place I have already been to? I'm glad about &lt;strong&gt;'where' &lt;/strong&gt;I am today. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm in a good place.&lt;/span&gt; I don't stand infront of the mirror and feel that I'm fat, old, look a lil less pretty than last year or that I need someone else around to make me feel special and loved. I stand infront of the mirror and see a woman who has grown alot through her experiences, one who loves herself no matter what people say, who is able to really smile through her tears, who loves her looks just the way they are with all the flaws and all, who knows that holding on too tightly to our physicalities, titles, pride and whatnots won't take her anywhere, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;who has somehow realised that &lt;strong&gt;Love is really the only rational act...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;just like how wise 'young' professor Morrie Shwartz had believed. I'm still learning but I have gained so much wisdom, strength, knowledge, love and light over the years, and I have only become &lt;strong&gt;'youthful' &lt;/strong&gt;towards life, and alot more positive about life. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm not as broody, moody, stubborn, vengeful, proud, unforgiving, foolish, materialistic, selfish or as angry as I used to be. To me, that would be what being &lt;strong&gt;'old'&lt;/strong&gt; is like - being grumpy and cranky, and holding on to the past too tightly.&lt;/span&gt; I'm now in a place that I'd never wanna swap with someone else, not even for the world.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I have just entered a 'place' in my life that I have never been before,&lt;/strong&gt; and I couldn't be happier.&lt;/span&gt; I aint Mother Theresa hell nah, but I just know that Love somehow wins at the end of the day. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And this is where I want to be. &lt;/span&gt;What more could I want ha? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkHMpiHOsdI/AAAAAAAAHQc/nmLdc3nY6vg/s1600-h/lkesh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350782846196691410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkHMpiHOsdI/AAAAAAAAHQc/nmLdc3nY6vg/s320/lkesh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Keep getting 'younger' my friends...with your attitudes to life and others. Don't shun Love in the name of looking tough...&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;for &lt;strong&gt;Love is the only 'rational' act&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;And as a birthday treat, I want you all to comment on that quote ;-).&lt;/strong&gt; Tell me what you think about it. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And Happy Birthday &lt;a href="http://memoirsofria.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;RIA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for the 23rd of June! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Thanks all and have a good day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;L O V E I S T H E O N L Y C U R E F O R A L L W O U N D S &amp;amp; S C R E W U P S - by Keshi ofcourse! ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-85.slide.com/widgets/themepic.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=3026418949614877573&amp;amp;site=widget-85.slide.com" wmode="transparent" salign="l" scale="noscale" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="WIDTH: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3026418949614877573&amp;amp;map=A" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3026418949614877573&amp;amp;map=B" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3026418949614877573&amp;amp;map=G" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-85.slide.com/z4/3026418949614877573/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;The&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Power Of Love&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Celine Dion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-9024127826624631216?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9024127826624631216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=9024127826624631216' title='95 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/9024127826624631216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/9024127826624631216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/year-younger-today.html' title='Somewhere I&apos;ve Never Been...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkG4K95VV1I/AAAAAAAAHP0/PBPB-n_i6gM/s72-c/bab1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>95</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7729660899825649108</id><published>2009-06-23T12:19:00.126+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-23T20:02:40.700+10:30</updated><title type='text'>A CSI Weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning:&lt;/strong&gt; Long post ahead. Goes to show what an eerily 'eventful' weekend it was!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Remember my post &lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2007/09/officer-and-genitalman.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An Officer &amp;amp; A Genitalman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkcu1s0WI/AAAAAAAAHPE/eLb0eRqBJwI/s1600-h/cm4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350386802088530274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkcu1s0WI/AAAAAAAAHPE/eLb0eRqBJwI/s320/cm4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that was about a naked man who flashed himself to me in 2007? Read that post first if you haven't already (click link above), cos it will help you to understand this very serious situation and the danger that I may be living with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last Saturday (20/06/2009), I found out that I live in the VERY CLOSE vicinity of a dangerous and violent sex offender!&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, it's true and I'm shit scared people! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*goes to the loo a 100 times*.&lt;/span&gt; Though I'm going to be writing this post under the light of some Keshi-humor as usual, deep down I'm quite disturbed about this frightening revelation and it's affecting my lifestyle in various ways&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *I no longer look hot...now I dress like a pauper so that the attacker pukes at the sight of me!*.&lt;/span&gt; Let me first tell you how it all unfolded last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday night, we decided to go see the movie &lt;strong&gt;The Proposal...&lt;/strong&gt;6:30pm show at the local cinemas. Myself, family and friends left our home around 6pm, and we were enjoying the movie in the next 3hrs or so. Nobody was at my house that night, but I always leave a light on when I go out. That night, I switched the Kitchen light on before I left. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In those 3hrs, ALOT was going to happen, and right infront of my house!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkLOBD6II/AAAAAAAAHO0/fVfJwuIzH6M/s1600-h/cr1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBmsdtwH-I/AAAAAAAAHPM/LldH6PUhyZs/s1600-h/kitt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350389271392952290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBmsdtwH-I/AAAAAAAAHPM/LldH6PUhyZs/s320/kitt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now a bit of geographical info about where I live. On one side of my house, where the Kitchen window looks out, there's a dark grassy alley that's got alot of trees, shrubs and not enough lighting. It's situated right underneath and to the left of my Living room balcony. I pass this narrow passage (that is to the left of me) as I walk on the main street, every single day on my way to work and back at night. Sometimes I come home late, it's about 8pm/9pm and yes I pass that spot even at that time of the night, all alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;, when nobody is out on the street. People who live down the same main street pass that alley as well, but it can get a bit lonely after 6pm on a dark Winters' night. We are aware this spot can be a little too 'inviting' for loiterers who'd like to hide in the dark and do something notorious, even though I haven't seen any so far. &lt;strong&gt;In the daytime, that alley is a beautiful lil heaven with bushy green and red shrubs, and red berry trees where colorful parrots come to feed on, as I watch them through my kitchen window while sipping my coffee.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;At night, it's an eerie and lonely passage that nobody would wanna tread.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Every night when I pass that dingy alley, I do look at it in a rather suspicious state of mind, wondering if anyone is hiding in the bush, and if he'd come out and attack me...yes my mind can never get rid of Ted Bundy images! I'm forever stuck in that dilemma, can someone help? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes*. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Don't laugh at me...cos I wasn't wrong and you'll soon find out why!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkASwwKvI/AAAAAAAAHOs/NknWy7Sfx4k/s1600-h/al2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBnvRvj4GI/AAAAAAAAHPc/orNQ4LpJpcE/s1600-h/crim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350390419230548066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBnvRvj4GI/AAAAAAAAHPc/orNQ4LpJpcE/s320/crim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok now where was I on Sat night...ah yes, at the movies. After the movie, around 8:30pm, we all went to get some take-away dinner and headed home. &lt;strong&gt;When we reached our street, we saw a huge number of Police officers and other detectives (in different uniforms) right infront of our balcony, flashing torches into that same dingy alley, as if something serious had happened just then!&lt;/strong&gt; We were wondering if someone broke into our house, cos the Police were basically in our front courtyard and very close to my balcony and kitchen windows! I got off the car and walked upto them...there were 4 police cars and about 10 policemen! They were all talking on phones, flashing torches, walking around in haste and looking quite serious. I went to an officer, told him I lived there and asked what had happened. He told me that he couldn't tell me anything as yet cos it's confidential, and that they were doing an urgent investigation &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I felt like telling him WTF I live here officer and I don't think you can tell me what happened after I'm dead could ya?*&lt;/span&gt;. Well anyways, that was all they said. We didn't panic all that much that night. &lt;strong&gt;But the next morning, much to my surprise the Police came to the same spot again with Forensic investigators! Something 'serious' indeed had happened that night! &lt;/strong&gt;They were collecting evidence from that spot, putting them into brown bags, taking photos of the alley, street and my property, and doing alot of CSI kinda investigations. It was almost like a movie! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBnIjZeQoI/AAAAAAAAHPU/z__5NPdJcWE/s1600-h/crim7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350389753954845314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBnIjZeQoI/AAAAAAAAHPU/z__5NPdJcWE/s320/crim7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now I couldn't wait any longer to know what had happened. I just needed to know. Cos I lived in that property and I may be in danger too and I guess I have the right to know. So I went into my balcony, looked straight at one of the Police officers, and ya know, he just had to talk to me :). He asked me if any detectives contacted me regarding any issues in that area. Then I told him what happened about a year ago and that Police did come to get a statement from me that night. Then they quickly wrote down my name again, and said that detectives will contact me soon, and let me know what happened on Sat night. They did. Last night they knocked on my door. A female constable and a male Police officer came to talk to me. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;They told me that a young woman who had finished work at 7pm and was going home past that SPOT on Sat night, was suddenly dragged into that alley by an unknown man, and then brutally and violently attacked her on the face and body, attempted RAPE on her, that fractured her chin bone and skull, and then stole her bag and had left!!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;She had screamed so loud that someone who heard her had contacted the Police! &lt;strong&gt;And this had happened right in my front courtyard, down that dingy passageway, where I pass every single night and did feel an eerieness in it in the past!&lt;/strong&gt; And we were at the movies that night...if not, I'd have heard her screams, witnessed it through my windows and would have even seen the attacker myself. And if I wasn't at the movies, and if I was walking past that spot on that night (like I usually do at around 7pm), I'd have been his victim, who knows!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBn4XfrpII/AAAAAAAAHPk/_4dS_8brfPc/s1600-h/crim77.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350390575393383554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBn4XfrpII/AAAAAAAAHPk/_4dS_8brfPc/s320/crim77.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was feeling very sorry for that girl...what a shame that such things take place in our society...that some people are so full of desperation that they get pleasure out of hurting others like that? Don't these guys have any sense of guilt, shame, fear, self-respect...not even a tiny bit? I'm shocked. &lt;strong&gt;Cos now I sit and think if this was the same guy who I wrote about in my last freaky post in 2007.&lt;/strong&gt; Cos the police said that this kind of thing has been happening for the past 2yrs around where I live, and they can't seem to catch the attacker cos all of his victims are too traumatised to remember what he looked like! That freaks me out to pieces! &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Could it be the same guy who stood naked opposite my kitchen window one night in September in 2007? Could someone be watching me without me even knowing about it? Does someone know my whereabouts, my times and habits? Could it be someone in the same block or neighborhood? Could it be someone I have already seen/met/spoken to?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I was told by the Police that there's a sexual predator in the area and to be careful, and to let them know if I see someone suspicious. &lt;/strong&gt;How many more such incidents would it take to know who this mentally-ill guy is? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBj58aRL0I/AAAAAAAAHOk/9-mKRSD7GYU/s1600-h/cm44.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350386204436148034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBj58aRL0I/AAAAAAAAHOk/9-mKRSD7GYU/s320/cm44.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What scares me the most is the fact that you cant reason with mentally-ill people like rapists, sex attackers and violent thieves. If what happened to that innocent girl that night happens to me or you, &lt;strong&gt;are we prepared to tackle the situation to the best of our abilities&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt; What would you do if someone appeared out of nowhere and attacked ya like that? How would you be better prepared to handle such a situation should it happen to you? God I hope it never happens to any one of us! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Humor In The Face Of &lt;em&gt;Ted Bundy&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkS8vmivI/AAAAAAAAHO8/VSG1CSk8Ekc/s1600-h/al1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350386634022357746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkS8vmivI/AAAAAAAAHO8/VSG1CSk8Ekc/s320/al1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I thought of dressing up like a beggar next time I go to work so that he won't even attempt to attack me, but I know I cant go to work like that :(. How about dressing up like a Policewoman, but even then I'd pass out if he came on to me. Then I thought of kicking him straight in his Family-jewels but I'm not sure if I could do that without saying &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'ouchhhh that hurt my knee u loser! what do u have there, metal undies?'.&lt;/span&gt; I thought of begging him to consider being '&lt;strong&gt;normal'&lt;/strong&gt; for the good of all humans on Earth, but then I reckon he wouldn't know anything called &lt;strong&gt;'sense'&lt;/strong&gt; would he now. My mum asked me to get a bottle of Pepper-spray but I'm not sure if in my panic-state of mind if I'd spray it on myself! My mum is so funny...last night, she goes to my bathroom and brings an Air-freshner bottle and asks me to take it with me. I told him that though the guy probably needs some &lt;strong&gt;'freshning'&lt;/strong&gt; up in his Cranium repository, that Air-freshner wouldn't work on making him pass out. LOL my mum is crazy. I even thought of carrying a fake gun...but do you honestly think a plastic children's toy from K-mart would scare a criminal like that, unless ofcourse he's loco beyond our imagination. I even thought of acting mental everytime I passed that alley but then I don't even have to try &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no wonder he hasn't approached me yet!*&lt;/span&gt;. How about wearing a perfume that stinks so much that he'd pass out while he attackes me or carrying a board that reads&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'I have Swine flu, do u still wanna get with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;me?'. &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I could tell him I have a blog and not to mess with me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;On a serious note,&lt;/span&gt; now I have decided to leave work early so that I get home before it's too dark, so that I give the dude some time to come to the alley and find no prey much to his disappointment. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I might leave him a rotten chunk of lamb chops incase he gets too hungry for some 'meat'...what an animal*.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBqB_e5LsI/AAAAAAAAHPs/UzqtG_5tnNQ/s1600-h/cs.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350392939769573058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBqB_e5LsI/AAAAAAAAHPs/UzqtG_5tnNQ/s320/cs.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But what about others? Other women who have no idea what might happen around that spot as they walk past it? I was one of those women all these years...I walked past that spot with no qualms at all and didn't think that there would &lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt; be someone there to attack people so violently. &lt;strong&gt;I guess a guardian angel was watching over me all these years.&lt;/strong&gt; I thank whoever it may be that protected me, my sis, mum and others who walked past that alley so far wthout any harm. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And I hope that girl, who is now in severe trauma and in hospital, recovers soon and will be able to get over this somehow and face life without any fear, though it may take some time.&lt;/span&gt; I pray for her wellbeing and I regret I wasn't there that night to help her in whatever way I could have. And I hope the attacker will be caught soon and his bottoms locked up for life. I knew that the dark alley was not something very safe for passers-by. And voices in my head did warn me about something like that was going to happen. So don't ignore the warning signs given to you by your own instincts...cos often they are right!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You never know who is watching you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;...t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ake care people!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Total Eclipse Of The Heart&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Bonnie Tyler&lt;/strong&gt; (from CSI)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&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/8476566-7729660899825649108?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7729660899825649108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7729660899825649108' title='55 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7729660899825649108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7729660899825649108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/csi-weekend.html' title='A &lt;em&gt;CSI &lt;/em&gt;Weekend...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SkBkcu1s0WI/AAAAAAAAHPE/eLb0eRqBJwI/s72-c/cm4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>55</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-448005206501328112</id><published>2009-06-22T11:14:00.091+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-22T19:38:16.875+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Bridget Jones's Diary &amp; Ria-ssociation!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iRcj8hyI/AAAAAAAAHN8/T7sOrhYcVW4/s1600-h/boys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349962196715341602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iRcj8hyI/AAAAAAAAHN8/T7sOrhYcVW4/s320/boys.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This post is a continuation from the previous Flatmate posts, and the final chapter of this round of Flatmates (see last post for more details). Following is &lt;strong&gt;Jay's&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Ria's&lt;/strong&gt; accounts of their experiences sharing accommodation with Keshi and the rest. Thanks all (&lt;strong&gt;Chriz, Suresh, Rakesh, Amit, Ria&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt;) you lovely flatmates for making my life richer for having you all at my place! I really had fun doing this, I hope you did too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's&lt;strong&gt; Jay's&lt;/strong&gt; account, and he's all the way from the Unaaaiiited Staiiites of Amaaarica! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*says that with a Alabamaish yanky accent that nearly killed me trying to get it right!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7jeX78IhI/AAAAAAAAHOM/YAxqLYg6YiI/s1600-h/res3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349963518323728914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7jeX78IhI/AAAAAAAAHOM/YAxqLYg6YiI/s320/res3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scenario:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; All the flatmates except Jay had gone on a mini-break to a faraway resort. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://cynicalbstd.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Jay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; decided to stay back home cos he simply couldn't part with his porn collection!&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *rolling eyes*.&lt;/span&gt; So Keshi left him alone, informed the neighbor that there's a strange guy living at her place at the moment and not to panic if they see him doing the twist naked in the house, cos he might use this '&lt;strong&gt;lonesome'&lt;/strong&gt; few days to try it out &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*considering the amount of strange fantasies Jay has on his eternally-kinky state of mind!*&lt;/span&gt;, and off she left with the rest of the flatmates on their trip. Jay suddenly finds the Girls' bedroom door open! OMG Keshi has forgotten to lock their bedroom door before she left &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*she can get like that sometimes...she can be quite absent-minded when she's too excited about a trip, I hope she took her clothes!*.&lt;/span&gt; Anyways, Jay takes this wonderful opportunity to go in and have a peek inside, being the notorious boy that he is. &lt;strong&gt;What happens next?&lt;/strong&gt; Sit back, relax and go into the world of Jay, when he takes the role of a sweet maniac inside a girl's bedroom on a hot Summer's night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7gxRsf81I/AAAAAAAAHNc/Hxuj924-94g/s1600-h/jay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349960544530985810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7gxRsf81I/AAAAAAAAHNc/Hxuj924-94g/s320/jay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Man, I can't believe I actually get the whole place to myself! I don't have to listen to anyone else's crummy music, and I get to watch what I want on TV, this is going to be a blast. Of course, it is a little odd that everyone else went to a resort and I wasn't invited?? Oh well, I'm sure they didn't plan this behind my back and intentionally leave me out.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *Jay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; matey, have a look at the scantily dressed woman on the book you're holding right now, as you type this. The Ghost of Keshi comes to his mind often!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think I'll lie around in my underwear for a while and read the newspaper and have some cold pizza and beer for breakfast. I can't do things like this with Keshi here. She'll yell at me to quit being a slob and get up and do something productive. Man, if that girl wasn't so hot, I wouldn't put up with her pushiness at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if there is any chance she and the other girls left their door unlocked? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Checks the door*&lt;/span&gt; ... It IS unlocked!! Oh yeah baby! It's party time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Goes into the girl's room and puts a Ramone's CD in the CD player and begins dancing around the room looking around*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, these girls sure do wear some &lt;strong&gt;tiny undies&lt;/strong&gt;. Very sexy too! I wonder who wears these crotchless panties? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*not me, says Keshi!*&lt;/span&gt; I like those. But, all these boy-band posters on the wall are annoying me. I feel like a bunch of teenage boys are watching me dance around in my boxers. I bet the girls like that. They probably pretend they're talking to those guys and showing off for the .... Hey now! What's this? Ooooooooooooo&lt;strong&gt; IT'S KESHI'S DIARY!! OH MY!&lt;/strong&gt; I think I'll just lie down on Keshi's warm and inviting bed and read some of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Flips through the pages reading about all of Keshi's daily adventures*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, she's talking about me in this entry ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iaxUFIdI/AAAAAAAAHOE/-375UAtvEsA/s1600-h/kdiary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349962356904763858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iaxUFIdI/AAAAAAAAHOE/-375UAtvEsA/s320/kdiary.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I've found that if I sit on the right side of the table at breakfast each morning I can get a look at Jay when he leaves his room and go into the bathroom for his morning shower each day. He looks soooooooo good in just his towel. I keep hoping that he'll drop that towel by accident someday. I'm pretty sure he can't see me watching him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm .... must make a mental note to &lt;strong&gt;"accidentally"&lt;/strong&gt; drop my towel some morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"I know Jay is all wrong for me. He's a slob and a drunk, but darn it, he's just so damn sexy! He's so sweet and funny and modest. He just makes me feel all warm and tingly inside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Yeah, I got something tingling right now too babe. If you know what I mean*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"I don't know if I can take it much longer. I'm going to have to do something about this. I'm hoping that it will be just me and him alone for a while someday soon so I can make my move. I'm going to be sure to be ready. I need to plan this out and make sure I'm wearing something sexy so I can get his attention."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Oh you've got my attention alright baby!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Turns page quickly*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Oh yeah, one other thing ... I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS JAY! YOU BUM! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WENT INTO MY ROOM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Looks around the room* Huh??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7kBkiI-II/AAAAAAAAHOU/eGodji39qUQ/s1600-h/reds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349964123000600706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7kBkiI-II/AAAAAAAAHOU/eGodji39qUQ/s320/reds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I bet you're lying there in your gross &lt;strong&gt;10 year old boxers&lt;/strong&gt; on my bed reading this. I'll have to wash my linens now. &lt;strong&gt;Ewwwwwwwww!&lt;/strong&gt; Seriously, quit playing my CDs, quit reading my diary and for God's sake get dressed and do something with your life you freak!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa! Uh, that's weird. I guess I better put this back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she really does want me though. She's just playing hard to get. That's hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My comments:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Keshi sits far far away on a hammock in an island resort, and dreams about &lt;strong&gt;John Abraham&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt;. She has a hard time choosing between the 2! And then she sees a &lt;strong&gt;David Beckham&lt;/strong&gt; lookalike walking past her...she drops both John and Jay from her mind in a nano-second, and starts following this guy...she found a new love awwwwww!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://memoirsofria.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; had the wonderful opportunity of writing &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the pros and cons of Shared Accommodation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And this is what Ria had to say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7g3Zg4H_I/AAAAAAAAHNk/6-rrMNONA6A/s1600-h/riaa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349960649708937202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7g3Zg4H_I/AAAAAAAAHNk/6-rrMNONA6A/s320/riaa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been a while since i have moved in with Keshi and 6 of my other flat mates....and if there is one word that i can sum the experience into i would have to say &lt;strong&gt;"Awesome"&lt;/strong&gt;.....&lt;strong&gt;I have always wanted to live with roommates, coz it gives u a different kinda feeling! &lt;/strong&gt;And the more the better what say!? And the best part about my flatmates is that there are more guys than girls! ;) Now that gives me ample opportunity to flirt......the incorrigible flirt that i am. It's gr8 fun coz we have our share of girlie fun and at the same time we have a ball when the guys are around. &lt;strong&gt;The guys have been really sweet and helpful, can't help saying this coz u knw i m biased towards men!&lt;/strong&gt; ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from that it's like we are having a party with 8 ppl living together. &lt;strong&gt;No doubt it has its own downside too....the worst one being sharing bathrooms.&lt;/strong&gt; Not everybody is as hygiene conscious as i am. Well, i may be tough on such aspects coz i m a cleanliness freak....Thankfully Keshi and i hav so many similarities that i feel as of we are long lost twins! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7g_SLq-MI/AAAAAAAAHNs/2H8OTJVndQI/s1600-h/ria2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349960785179900098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7g_SLq-MI/AAAAAAAAHNs/2H8OTJVndQI/s320/ria2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But one thing that i miss at times is having my&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;"Me Time"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;....Since i hav so many flat mates, i always have somebody or the other around me. So it feels a bit suffocating u know, after all &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;everybody needs there their own space.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;And not to forget the fights&lt;/strong&gt; that we have on who will eat what! &lt;strong&gt;And we also have a tough time delegating the household chores.&lt;/strong&gt;...But i guess thats ok coz at the end of it all, i have got some really amazing people as my flat mates. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So the pros definitely win hands down when i compare them to the cons.&lt;/span&gt; I am loving the whole experience so far! Lets see how things shape up further on.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My comments:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt; has been such a great sport during her stay with me...she &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7kiKLAoQI/AAAAAAAAHOc/10WQeifuXbo/s1600-h/kit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349964682859946242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7kiKLAoQI/AAAAAAAAHOc/10WQeifuXbo/s320/kit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;actually saved me from having a mental breakdown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *as a consequence of having a bunch of naughty guys at my place, ofcourse*.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The guys, while they are great to flirt around with, are practically a &lt;strong&gt;Mess-making Association&lt;/strong&gt; that you can get membership for!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*if you're one of them that is*. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rakesh&lt;/strong&gt; used to leave all his pots and pans unwashed, in the sink and disappear. When he made a cuppa, he often felt like Superman! &lt;strong&gt;Amit&lt;/strong&gt; used to pretend to mop the floor and then suddenly dash out of the house saying someone is at the door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *yeah right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;!*.&lt;/span&gt; He never came back btw. &lt;strong&gt;Suresh&lt;/strong&gt; packs some food for his girlfriend too and takes all our drinks on his romantic picnics, and puts on this puppydog face to us &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*so we just have to suck it up, feel sorry for his ultraromantic genes and donate our weekly beverages to his 'Love Story' in the making!*.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chriz&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt; used to walk half-naked&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*in their red jocks*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;infront of us girls so they could try and attract us&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*instead I burnt their undies in my backyard!*.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt; being almost like my sister &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*cos we always think so much alike*&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;amidst all of this, helped me to retain my sanity, cos both of us used to go into our room, close the door and laugh out so loud at all the funny, dumb, crazy, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;outrageous, sexy, stupid, sweet and loving things the blokes used to do! :) We both had a great time along with these men&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*sans their loco neanderthal habits ofcourse!* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And just like &lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; said, &lt;strong&gt;what &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iKtWaefI/AAAAAAAAHN0/SN6IUgE75Ho/s1600-h/riakesh.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349962080962902514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iKtWaefI/AAAAAAAAHN0/SN6IUgE75Ho/s320/riakesh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;matters is that we GET ALONG somehow, amidst our many differences.&lt;/strong&gt; We may all not be the same, but it is harder to be nice to each other and accept people for who they are and co-exist under the same roof through thick and thin, than it is to dismiss one another&lt;strong&gt;. I choose the harder task ofcourse.&lt;/strong&gt; So, this Flatmate experience taught us all to be nice to each other, to love one another and to live as one, no matter what :). Togetherness rocks and it keeps ya going. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THANKS all my lovely flatmates MWAH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; I watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1041829/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'The Proposal'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; on Sat night...the movie was fantastic. And I also had quite an eerie weekend...will tell you all about it soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Together&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;strong&gt; The Turtles&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-448005206501328112?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/448005206501328112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=448005206501328112' title='63 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/448005206501328112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/448005206501328112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/bridget-jones-diary-ria-ssociation.html' title='Bridget Jones&apos;s Diary &amp; &lt;em&gt;Ria&lt;/em&gt;-ssociation!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sj7iRcj8hyI/AAAAAAAAHN8/T7sOrhYcVW4/s72-c/boys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>63</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7101042487250520786</id><published>2009-06-18T10:47:00.086+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-18T13:39:06.932+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Dil Mera Le Gaya!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmYZdjXedI/AAAAAAAAHL8/5nmXNCvNjiY/s1600-h/dost2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348473595676293586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmYZdjXedI/AAAAAAAAHL8/5nmXNCvNjiY/s320/dost2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember my crazy &lt;strong&gt;Flatmate&lt;/strong&gt; posts? Well they are back! :) The last time I was sharing a flat, it was with &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chriz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - my first ever red-undy obsessed, microwave friendly flatmate! (Read &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/for-chrizts-sake.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; for his 'divine' flat-sharing experience with me). Then came &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rakesh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the flirty guy who tried to get into my 'heart' through his cooking but failed miserably cos I ate all the food and vanished. And &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suresh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the lovelorn handsome guy who broke my heart into a zillion pieces that could never be glued back again, cos he was already singing in the rain with Simran (read &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-struck-on-way-to-loo.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; for my wonderful times with Rakesh and Suresh). Now there are 3 other flatmates who were yet to tell us all about their experiences sharing accommodation with Keshi. And they were &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Today's post consists of &lt;strong&gt;Amit's experience&lt;/strong&gt; living with Keshi. Ria's and Jay's will come after this post. Amit was given a scenario by me and all he had to do was come up with a post that described what happened in that scenario. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scenario:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; One steamy night Amit absent-mindedly walks into the Ladies bathroom in Keshi's house! Is there anyone in there? What do you see and what happens next?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And this is how &lt;a href="http://amitsmusings.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; brings to you a humorous scene from Keshi's house for your own reading pleasure. Sit back, relax and enjoy! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZZuJXVKI/AAAAAAAAHME/jJlkKo35nPw/s1600-h/amit.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348474699642262690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZZuJXVKI/AAAAAAAAHME/jJlkKo35nPw/s320/amit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;HISTORY:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt; Today being Sunday, all the flatmates were at their relaxed best. &lt;strong&gt;Suresh&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Rakesh&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Jay&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt; and of course our gracious host &lt;strong&gt;Keshi&lt;/strong&gt;. After a rollicking good time, where we watched a couple of movies &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no, don’t ask which ones, that would be revealing...just understand that they were movies that had us in all sorts of moods by the time they ended, from frisky to funny to deadly*&lt;/span&gt;, we played a few games designed by Keshi &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*even those, I’ll leave it to Keshi to tell about..I grin ear to ear thinking about the naughtiness in some of them*&lt;/span&gt; and even resorted to a bit of dancing to the beats of&lt;strong&gt; 'desi girl' &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;it being a Keshi favourite courtesy John Abraham’s presence in them, naturally..heh heh*&lt;/span&gt;, '&lt;strong&gt;dance pe chance’'&lt;/strong&gt;and the latest craze '&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Masakali'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, besides some English numbers which Keshi had put on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually don’t shake a leg, but, seeing how the gay &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no pun intended*&lt;/span&gt; abandon with which the three guys were enjoying the dancing, the grace with which &lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt; was twinkle-toeing and, our host &lt;strong&gt;Keshi&lt;/strong&gt; was totally into 'desi girl' mode, I decided to forget my shy nature for a while and just join in the fun, right next to &lt;strong&gt;Keshi&lt;/strong&gt;…and ooops…that was, well, mind-boggling to say the least…just trying to keep up with her pace had me totally whacked out. She’s a never-tiring bundle of energy...unbelievable! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*wink wink*&lt;/span&gt; yes, it felt great dancing with her, as you can well imagine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was past the hour of midnight, and so, everyone said their 'goodnight, sleep tight's and off we went, ready for dreamland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, I was soon into dreamland, when &lt;strong&gt;'the urge' &lt;/strong&gt;prompted me to get up in my semi-sleep state, and I sleepily walked towards the bathroom, without wearing my specs &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*which I realized later, was a boo-boo! not boob-oo sillies, or was it?*&lt;/span&gt; Read on..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;An Identity Crisis...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZg14EFwI/AAAAAAAAHMM/CUv917PTGN8/s1600-h/amitb.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348474821976266498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZg14EFwI/AAAAAAAAHMM/CUv917PTGN8/s320/amitb.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;I twisted the door handle, walked in and went and stood in my &lt;strong&gt;'usual place'&lt;/strong&gt;, eyes still blurred with tiredness, when I noticed something…and, nearly said out aloud &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'good Lord, someone’s stolen the urinal, the fixtures, everything!'&lt;/span&gt;. my eyes opened wide, wondering how the thieves had made off with the stuff so easily. And, then, I noticed something strange - the colour of the bathroom was also not the boyish blue…&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nah, in fact, it was a bright red with white tiles! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I was wondering what kind of mad thief would modify a bathroom to this extent and make off with some fixtures to boot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, then realization dawned...it was the Ladies bathroom…in my semi-clothed&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *shorts only*&lt;/span&gt;, semi-asleep state of mind and without my specs to help, I’d walked into&lt;strong&gt; 'no man’s land'&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;The Ladies’ Bathroom!&lt;/strong&gt; I could feel my shy face going red with embarrassment. But then, it being the midnight hour, and me being wide awake now,&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; I thought I’d get a bit naughty&lt;/span&gt; *after such an 'eventful Sunday' who wouldn’t?*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZm0Q-duI/AAAAAAAAHMU/E-oytFcaUm8/s1600-h/john.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348474924623099618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmZm0Q-duI/AAAAAAAAHMU/E-oytFcaUm8/s320/john.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;and, not hearing a sound, decided to do a bit of exploration of the attractive cupboards behind the mirrors...but, suddenly I heard the sound from the toilet cubicle, of water being flushed and was stunned into silence! It was too late to run out without making any noise, since whoever it was had just clicked the lock on the door of the toilet open, so, I made a split second decision. I closed my eyes, put my arms out &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*as I’d read, in so many books*&lt;/span&gt;, and started walking towards the Exit, when I banged into the partition - opened my eyes partially, and, saw &lt;strong&gt;John Abraham&lt;/strong&gt; in his famous 'short' shorts pic from '&lt;strong&gt;Dostana' &lt;/strong&gt;staring back at me!!! ah…it was a life size poster of John. Anyway, I was trying to avoid the partition when &lt;strong&gt;Keshi&lt;/strong&gt; came up right behind me and tapped me daintily on the shoulder - I should have gotten an award for acting like the world’s number one somnambulist at that moment. I pretented that I didn’t feel the electric sensation I’d felt, and just kept moving slowly with arms in front of me and eyes closed. Out of the corner of my eye, I espied that the lil lady was looking really stunning in her nightdress. So, I boldly turned round, eyes still closed, so that my arms were on Keshi’s shoulders. Our noses touched lightly, and, I decided that that was the right moment for me to wake up, since those electric&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'touches'&lt;/span&gt; were not allowing me to pretend to be asleep anymore. Opening my eyes wide, arms still where they were, and asked &lt;strong&gt;'Main Kahaan Hoon?'&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*where am I?*&lt;/span&gt;, very filmy style. Keshi looked &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;mystified &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*she looks cute when she’s that way, too*&lt;/span&gt;, and being the sharp one that she is, she nearly guessed that I was not really asleep. Having just read her post on &lt;strong&gt;'F*** off'&lt;/strong&gt;, I hurriedly moved my arms away, and, looking suitably embarrassed, I explained how I’d mistakenly &lt;strong&gt;'boldly gone &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmaRBNUXKI/AAAAAAAAHMc/gZa9sraSwIk/s1600-h/keshik.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348475649651924130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmaRBNUXKI/AAAAAAAAHMc/gZa9sraSwIk/s320/keshik.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;where no man has gone before'&lt;/strong&gt; - the Ladies’ bathroom and apologized profusely! Thankfully, she realized the humour in the situation, and, soon we were both laughing away merrily at 1 AM in the morning and I heaved a sigh of relief. We said our goodnights again with a lil friendly hug, and, retired to our individual bedrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping she never tells the rest of the flatmates about my somnambulistic abilities. But, next morning, when I woke up, &lt;strong&gt;Ria&lt;/strong&gt; came up and said an extra sweet &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'Good Mooooorning, Amit'&lt;/span&gt;. Arrrrrrghh!! Keshi's let the cat out of the bag!! Wait til I catch her! But then, that’s a post for another day, if I’m allowed to continue being a flatmate after this experience!!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My Side Of The Story:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cast Away Without Tom Hanks In It!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HERSTORY:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;Amit, dil mera le gaya, along with &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmhY3C-ojI/AAAAAAAAHM8/0fpkMnVnA5o/s1600-h/john11.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348483480944550450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmhY3C-ojI/AAAAAAAAHM8/0fpkMnVnA5o/s320/john11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my toilet ofcourse! (&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;dil mera le gaya&lt;/span&gt; means &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;you've taken my heart&lt;/span&gt;). Yes &lt;strong&gt;Amit&lt;/strong&gt; looked a lil lost that night inside the Ladies bathroom in my flat. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;O well, he looked as if he'd have been more comfy in the Amazon rainforests on a Sunday night standing next to an Anaconda than being here inside the Ladies!&lt;/span&gt; What makes me baffled is why men are so scared of the Ladies bathroom? Is it the pinkness of the freshness inside, or is it the Ladies that they might come across in there? I guess the term &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;LADIES&lt;/span&gt; is quite a shockwave-sending word for many men...not because they are scared of them, but because they are so fond of them! &lt;strong&gt;Men adore Women.&lt;/strong&gt; And the fact that they don't want to admit that is what makes them scared of them LOL! When Amit first saw my face inside the Ladies, he realised that he had just walked into No Man's Land and was about to create a scene that would go down in Man's Many Demented Mistakes History! Men are silly creatures and they get all dizzy when they see a woman in her night gear, and would even pass out if they touch him &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes*&lt;/span&gt;. Amit was now in women's territory, all alone, and was about to stage a play that was going to reveal his deepest darkest fantasies about women and their Towel racks! &lt;strong&gt;He was about to become the John Abraham of The Ladies Toilets!&lt;/strong&gt; He was almost doing a filmy scene from &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'Chori Chori Chupke Chupke'&lt;/span&gt; in his shirtless state of mind and his shorts half unbuttoned, looking almost like Salman Khan! He was about to lose control on seeing the bright red walls and white tiles that would send him into a spiral orgasmic cosmic dream! He was about to spy on Vanity drawers of his female flatmates and find&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'things'&lt;/span&gt; that he'd never even imagined he'd ever get to see alive! He was about to get into the shower and find out what it would feel to be showering at the same &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;spot where Ladies showered every single day! He was about to start living inside the Ladies bathroom pretending to be a bathtub, without much success ofcourse! He was about to experience it all, he was about to &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sjmm8KdAdnI/AAAAAAAAHNE/uDLEythMfP8/s1600-h/kesha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348489585007556210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sjmm8KdAdnI/AAAAAAAAHNE/uDLEythMfP8/s320/kesha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;have a romance in the Ladies bathroom that would be a &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sjmc2dziKsI/AAAAAAAAHMs/T3ySeB4_mS0/s1600-h/kesha.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;kinky chapter in his life to come, but it all got cut short cos &lt;strong&gt;a girl called Keshi was born to spoil the fun of all Men on Earth&lt;/strong&gt;...and whether Amit could believe it or not, she was the host of his current accommodation and yes she hogs the Loo all the time! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*that's cos John's pics are all up on the wall and she spends her time looking at them and studying his body...ehh well she's a Biology student!*&lt;/span&gt;. And yes she was in there at the time Amit was about to conquer what no Man could ever conquer before!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;THE END.&lt;/strong&gt;;-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music:&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chori Chori Chupke Chupke&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (Hindi movie song, meaning 'secretly and silently')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7101042487250520786?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7101042487250520786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7101042487250520786' title='115 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7101042487250520786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7101042487250520786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/dil-mera-le-gaya.html' title='Dil Mera Le Gaya!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjmYZdjXedI/AAAAAAAAHL8/5nmXNCvNjiY/s72-c/dost2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>115</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5628484534502492194</id><published>2009-06-15T11:10:00.087+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:30:02.734+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Walk Across The Bridge...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW38GqsJDI/AAAAAAAAHIU/bj0muqYgckA/s1600-h/b2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347382375782032434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW38GqsJDI/AAAAAAAAHIU/bj0muqYgckA/s320/b2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes everyone walks a certain bridge. Every living being does. &lt;strong&gt;And that bridge is Life. Life, I believe is a bridge walked between Birth and Death. &lt;/strong&gt;And it is upto you to make that Walk worthwhile to you and to others. Making the most of the time you have been given and being the best that you could be is in your hands, not anyone else's. It's a choice that you can make, not an obligation or a luxury that only some people are blessed with. Every living being has a conscience, therefore the ability to weigh what's right by themselves and others, and do the right thing by everyone. We can't all make a mark in this world so our names go down in history. But you and I can make a mark in our own worlds...our own little territories...&lt;strong&gt;in our own walk across the bridge. &lt;/strong&gt;We don't have to wait til we are hit with a terminal illness or old age to value life. And we really don't know when we'd be on borrowed time or when we'd not even be given any time to think about it! So take a good look at your life now, the potential in you, the possibilities, the best that you could be, &lt;strong&gt;the goodness you can push into the limited time that you have been given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW30GmWe-I/AAAAAAAAHIM/-RlRU7cjyTo/s1600-h/b8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347382238324882402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW30GmWe-I/AAAAAAAAHIM/-RlRU7cjyTo/s320/b8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Most people say it's not good to think about Death until you face it. But chances are, some of us wouldn't even be given an opportunity to 'face' Death...we'd just go in a second. Life is that fragile. I think the more you're conscious of Death and the more you are in acceptance of it, the more you will LIVE than just EXIST. &lt;strong&gt;But that doesn't mean you constantly think about Death or become negative about Life.&lt;/strong&gt; It is the knowledge of the reality of our deteriorating bodies and uncertain fates that will make us reach places where we dared not go before. It is quite foolish to think that Death is not gonna happen to you or that it's nowhere near you right now. &lt;strong&gt;Who said that Death was timely and fair?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Death is very much alive, as much as Life is. And I see Death as a positive aspect of life, cos the inevitable anticipation of it makes me wanna be more in touch with my inner self and what I can really do within the time I have been given.&lt;/strong&gt; As long as you're aware that we all have one thing in common, and that is Death, I'm sure you can strive to live to the best of your abilities. Those are the people who know how to make the most of that walk across the bridge, i.o.w. Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4DjoL34I/AAAAAAAAHIc/XjoabfN42x4/s1600-h/b5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347382503815241602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4DjoL34I/AAAAAAAAHIc/XjoabfN42x4/s320/b5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went to a funeral recently. A dear person had walked that bridge of Life, and had finally reached the once hazy other end of it. Beautiful words were said about him at the service and the Wake. His sense of humor was praised and his love of life was honored. &lt;strong&gt;And I thought to myself, time is precious, so are words, deeds and opportunities.&lt;/strong&gt; When someone dies, people honor that person with precious words, honorary titles, distinguished awards, pomp and glory. &lt;strong&gt;But is he there to receive them anymore? What a waste of accolades and words?&lt;/strong&gt; Don't get me wrong, it's good to give a good soul a re&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW5F5l20HI/AAAAAAAAHJE/Htn5lkCP7DY/s1600-h/b4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;spectable funeral, but wouldn't it be better if it was all said and done when he was alive, so that he could really receive them? Here, the bridge comes to the picture again. You could have someone in your life (near or far) that could receive the appreciation from you before they die. And if you're walking that bridge to the best of your own ability, you wouldn't wait til someone dies for you to acknowledge the value of those people in your life or their potential to reach out to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4OHjnlSI/AAAAAAAAHIk/WmMJNk6qL8E/s1600-h/kb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4WUjjFyI/AAAAAAAAHIs/PCxIYQAhzvk/s1600-h/b77.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4yaIIz2I/AAAAAAAAHI8/hyjfKMpz1NY/s1600-h/b88.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347383308718755682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4yaIIz2I/AAAAAAAAHI8/hyjfKMpz1NY/s320/b88.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This blog is my e-diary. Some day when I'm not here, when I no longer breathe, when I'm not in a place where I can give you my words of appreciation, gratitude, admiration and love in the form of a Eulogy, I want my loved-ones and each and everyone that I have met in Blogville to know that without you, I'd be nothing. &lt;strong&gt;I'm not saying that just for the heck of it or to get some 'awww' comments.&lt;/strong&gt; I mean it from the bottom of my heart. If not for the touch of each and every individual that had crossed paths with me in my walk across the bridge, the quality of my life would be poorer and my ledgers of having LIVED before I DIED will not balance. It is because of you (each and everyone of you) that I have realised a new depth in me, that I have discovered a new height that I could reach, that I have survived through my darkest moments, that I have stood still on the bridge on a lonely night and believed that I could GO ON somehow. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;THANK YOU MY MUM, DAD, SIS, GRANMA, FAMILY, TOTAL STRANGERS, DR.CHRIS O'BRIEN (last post), THE CLEANING LADY IN MY PRIMARY SCHOOL, CUZ D, MY YEAR-6 LITERATURE TEACHER MS.DORA, &lt;strong&gt;ALL BLOGMATES&lt;/strong&gt;, BRETT, THE SMILING WOMAN AT THE ASIAN CAFE, THE TRAIN GUARD WHO ALWAYS SAYS GOOD MORNING TO ME, SNUGGLES WHO GREETED ME CHEERFULLY AT THE DOOR THIS MORNING, MS.A, ALL MY FORMER PETS, MOTHER THERESA, BABY DEE, FRIENDS &amp;amp; FOES!&lt;/span&gt; It is because of you that I'm what I am today. I thank you always. &lt;strong&gt;You were and still are, an inspiration to me. You all contributed to creating a standard that I wanted to live by.&lt;/strong&gt; There were people who brought out the best (and even the worst) in me. There were people who scratched the surface of my heart and brought out new possibilities in me. And then there were people who dragged me down yet made me realise the resilience in me. And there were people who paved me new paths to reach new destinations that I never even dreamt I'd reach. When people adored me, I knew that I can be loved. And when some people hated me and rejected me, I knew that I won't be loved by all. &lt;strong&gt;Each and everyone of you made a realisation in me, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;no matter HOW it was don&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4odXvqqI/AAAAAAAAHI0/rKci1ZNhFrE/s1600-h/kb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347383137790831266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW4odXvqqI/AAAAAAAAHI0/rKci1ZNhFrE/s320/kb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;You all made my walk across the bridge, the best it can be.&lt;/strong&gt; And as long as it lasts, I will be the best I can ever be. And when I have reached the other end, I hope I made your walk a little easier and alot stronger too, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no matter HOW it was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can either wither away or burn brightly into the oblivion. Everyone DIES but only very few LIVE. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;You Raise Me Up&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Josh Groban &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-5628484534502492194?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5628484534502492194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=5628484534502492194' title='108 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5628484534502492194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/5628484534502492194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/walk-across-bridge.html' title='The Walk Across The Bridge...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjW38GqsJDI/AAAAAAAAHIU/bj0muqYgckA/s72-c/b2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>108</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7206532566534811053</id><published>2009-06-10T16:41:00.084+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-12T12:30:42.305+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Living For A Cause That Matters...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBZuyIRYFI/AAAAAAAAHHs/Eg_5hiTwxA4/s1600-h/cb.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9cUKr-BNI/AAAAAAAAHHE/WONRsHZwXgI/s1600-h/daf1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345592784247981266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9cUKr-BNI/AAAAAAAAHHE/WONRsHZwXgI/s320/daf1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Have you ever been inspired by someone you have never met? Have you just seen someone on TV or elsewhere, or heard their voice on the radio and have felt that that person is an ideal humanbeing that inspired your own life in a way that not even your loved-ones can? Well I have come across such a person in my life. &lt;strong&gt;I really don't know how to pay tribute to a remarkable humanbeing like him, cos I don't have enough words in my vocabulary to do him perfect justice.&lt;/strong&gt; Words totally fail me as the person I'm about to talk about is a mountain of pure wisdom, humanity, class, compassion, dedication, devotion and charisma. He is none other than one of the best Cancer surgeons in Australia, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shnci.org/Pages/surgical04.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Professor Chris O'Brien&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;, who sadly passed on last week at the age of 57. I have always been in awe of him eversince the days I started watching The Royal Prince Alfred hospital's TV series,&lt;strong&gt; RPA&lt;/strong&gt;. Doctor Chris O'Brien appeared on the show quite regularly for many years, and the way he talked to his patients, his expertise in the field, his tireless approach to head and neck Cancer reasearch, his brilliant reputation as a Cancer surgeon not only in Australia but also overseas and most of all &lt;strong&gt;his smiling face&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9aEJkVW-I/AAAAAAAAHG0/9riSyphfoMo/s1600-h/chrisd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345590310046358498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9aEJkVW-I/AAAAAAAAHG0/9riSyphfoMo/s320/chrisd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;undivided attention and care he gave to his patients are what most Aussies will never forget. &lt;strong&gt;The most amazing yet heartbreaking aspect about his life is that Dr.Chris O'Brien himself was diagnosed with brain cancer just 2yrs ago and was given only 6months to live.&lt;/strong&gt; However, he didn't stop smiling. I remember how he came on 60mins (check that interview &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Never Say Die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; over &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://sixtyminutes.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=269920"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;) in 2007 to speak &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBZzonPPjI/AAAAAAAAHH0/EqSVzQAX0wQ/s1600-h/cb.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;openly about his illness, he didn't look like he lost his charm or wit. He was absolutely positive in every way and &lt;strong&gt;was thrilled to be alive&lt;/strong&gt; (in his own words). This was a world-renowned brain cancer surgeon, who himself was diagnosed with the same type of Cancer and yet managed to work through the very short time on Earth he was given, to build a &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/06/05/2590016.htm"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Lifehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; for future cancer research and patients. He never gave up on his dream til the last minute of his life...&lt;strong&gt;and his dream was to care for others.&lt;/strong&gt; As a doctor, he not only excelled in his medical profession but also as a great humanbeing. He was an exceptionally remarkable humanbeing, a rare soul, that didn't think too much about himself but dedicated his time and energy on others, and for making the lives of others better. &lt;strong&gt;I believe he was an angel sent down to Earth for a short period, to make such an impact on others through his deeds and to &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9ZQunv8wI/AAAAAAAAHGc/vqWXrkpdeX8/s1600-h/chris1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345589426639598338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9ZQunv8wI/AAAAAAAAHGc/vqWXrkpdeX8/s320/chris1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;inspire people like us to do good always, to help others and not to be selfish for this life somehow ends for all of us...it ended for doctor Chris O'Brien way before anyone had expected!&lt;/strong&gt; If such a clever and great humanbeing faced both life and death in such a positive way, and managed to stare death in the face yet keep smiling, then I'm sure you and I can too. We can do almost anything, if we have the will. Don't let life's small worries rob you of your smiles. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9aOBBtVdI/AAAAAAAAHG8/YIQk0ZesUKM/s1600-h/chris44.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBPZ6HkWtI/AAAAAAAAHHM/zuh0qZEifRI/s1600-h/chris32.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345860064205101778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBPZ6HkWtI/AAAAAAAAHHM/zuh0qZEifRI/s320/chris32.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Professor Chris O'Brien, someone I have never met but feels like I've known him all my life, &lt;strong&gt;taught me from his own life and death that the best qualities about a person don't reside in their profession or their assets or their health. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;They reside in their ATTITUDE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; No matter what you face in life, I hope you don't lose your charm, your humor, your cool and your charisma.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Cos people will always remember you for not how much you had, but for how much you gave back to life. Professor Chris O'Brien gave it all to others, with no expectations at all. &lt;strong&gt;And he never lost his humor in the face of adversity, cos he was smart enough to realise that some things in life are not within our control...so it's really no point brooding over it. He refused to bow down to his Cancer..instead he co-existed peacefully with it &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBPiWssMrI/AAAAAAAAHHU/6NRWdfOYe5I/s1600-h/chris11.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and actually triumphed his final battle with it by working for a great cause until &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBQMFNrYnI/AAAAAAAAHHc/VyNfSVS1lKA/s1600-h/chris3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;his last breath.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;What really matters in life? Dr.O'Brien's life tells me that what really matters is doing your best, giving it your best shot and helping &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBRqCcxqEI/AAAAAAAAHHk/sWqH3HB_hd8/s1600-h/chris11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345862540342700098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjBRqCcxqEI/AAAAAAAAHHk/sWqH3HB_hd8/s320/chris11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this world to be a better place, even if your life is not the best or is ending.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Ourselves is not the most important thing in the world...helping those in need is a great sign of a well-lived life. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;He lived for a cause that really matters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Now that kind of attitude is very hard to find.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I agree Dr.O'Brien, Never say die, for people may die but their deeds don't. Your good deeds will neither die nor be forgotten.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; He saved so many lives and continued saving them while he himself was dying. &lt;strong&gt;Long live the legacy of Dr.Chris O'Brien! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9Zm80Y45I/AAAAAAAAHGk/l4IX1CsoFCs/s1600-h/chris3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His death last week is a huge loss that is hard to express and I'm sure that anyone who knew him would know what I mean. Cos I really can't do enough justice to his legacy through this blog post. It's so &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9Zm80Y45I/AAAAAAAAHGk/l4IX1CsoFCs/s1600-h/chris3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;unfair by him, but I hope that my readers here will realise what a special person he was and that this is not a post just to praise a good doctor but it is to give you a small glimpse of an amazing spirit that &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjCU2kyfVYI/AAAAAAAAHIE/iaqxRtdHvFA/s1600-h/chrisobrien.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345936422998070658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjCU2kyfVYI/AAAAAAAAHIE/iaqxRtdHvFA/s320/chrisobrien.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;touched and inspired alot of people in many ways that I cannot express enough. He has been honored with a State &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9ZDoZqnuI/AAAAAAAAHGU/lRakD-vLp5A/s1600-h/chris.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;funeral (&lt;a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/06/11/2595190.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;) and that is not something that happens quite often,&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9Z12pOI_I/AAAAAAAAHGs/2bRx1_jE7aY/s1600-h/chris45.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and it just goes to &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9Zm80Y45I/AAAAAAAAHGk/l4IX1CsoFCs/s1600-h/chris3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;show how &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SjCSN-29IVI/AAAAAAAAHH8/LyxUNFtBTZ4/s1600-h/rpa_drchris.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;much he has reached out to others in his short life. &lt;strong&gt;Dr.O'Brien we will miss you and your beautiful Attitude to life and others!&lt;/strong&gt; Thank you for being an inspiration to so many people over the years! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;As always, we will remember your never-say-die &lt;strong&gt;SMILE&lt;/strong&gt;. So long sir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everybody Hurts&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;strong&gt; The Corrs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7206532566534811053?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7206532566534811053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7206532566534811053' title='134 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7206532566534811053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7206532566534811053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/living-for-cause-that-matters.html' title='Living For A Cause That Matters...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si9cUKr-BNI/AAAAAAAAHHE/WONRsHZwXgI/s72-c/daf1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>134</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-4063141544502405807</id><published>2009-06-09T12:58:00.045+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-09T14:46:02.806+10:30</updated><title type='text'>I Know What You Did Last Friday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3VCM4_-YI/AAAAAAAAHF8/kKEWQdiMYxg/s1600-h/strang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345162566555400578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3VCM4_-YI/AAAAAAAAHF8/kKEWQdiMYxg/s320/strang.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It seems that I've quite successfully acquired myself a cellphone stalker! No I'm not the kind of person who gives my cell number to just about anyone I meet, neither do I display it on any of the Internet forums that I am on. But this caller is freaking me out, since it is the first time that some anonymous person is giving me such calls. &lt;strong&gt;Here's the Stalking Timeline so far:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last night I was fast asleep when my cell rang twice around 11pm.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Second time around I picked it up, and a strange male voice gave my FULL NAME and asked me if I was that person.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I, in my groggy state of mind and still half asleep, replied yes. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*at this stage I didn't suspect this person to be a stalker so I was only answering a standard phone call*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He then proceeded to say that he found me on the net and wanted to know if I was looking for a partner!&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *as soon as I heard that I freaked out and disconnected the call immediately as if I was speaking to Jack The Ripper!!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3T1hR7vmI/AAAAAAAAHF0/bJd1nBcJIEU/s1600-h/psy1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345161249178762850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3T1hR7vmI/AAAAAAAAHF0/bJd1nBcJIEU/s320/psy1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What went through my mind after that was a good 6 hours of repetitive scenes from the horror flick &lt;strong&gt;'Psycho'&lt;/strong&gt; that made me lay awake til dawn, that resulted in a severe headache due to lack of sleep and the sudden phobia that has developed in me! His cell number got recorded in my call log &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*since his number was detectable, that kind of tells me it's not a serial rapist - but if it is, he must be superdumb!*. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So after&lt;/span&gt; alot of thought, I texted him asking who it was and how he had obtained my phone number. I was being polite cos I really needed to handle this myself without having to drag the Police into this &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*not yet*&lt;/span&gt; and I desperately needed to know WHO it was. I got an immediate SMS reply saying that he badly wanted to talk to me and that he was going to ring me again in 2mins, and if I'd pick up the phone! He also said that &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'it would be worth it'&lt;/span&gt;, and left some kisses n hugs for me...in &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'xo'&lt;/span&gt; form! To which I didn't reply. It was a lil creepy but for all I know it could be a friend playing pranks on me using another friend's cell. But what kind of sick and tasteless prank is that? I really don't have friends like that...friends who play stupid cellphone stalking games like that. So chances are, it isn't a friend. That leaves me even more freaked out. Ted Bundy images controlled my poor soul all through the night and I was imagining myself being hacked to death...lol! I know I'm a lil dramaish here but hey cellphone stalking is no joke. I strongly believe that invading someone's privacy and harassing them in this manner is a serious matter and an offense that needs to be charged with.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3VakmIBiI/AAAAAAAAHGE/afTexxAYRz0/s1600-h/cal1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345162985235547682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3VakmIBiI/AAAAAAAAHGE/afTexxAYRz0/s320/cal1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This morning I decided to take matters into my own hands, and dial the unknown caller's number to speak to him directly, find out who it is and ask him to stop the menace. He didn't pick up. Then I texted him saying it's best that I know who he is and how he got my number, or else I won't speak to him at all as he wanted me to. I haven't heard from him in the past 6 hours or so. Let's wait and see what he does next &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*perhaps tonight*&lt;/span&gt;. I just wonder how he found my cell number...that just baffles me cos my cell number is not public. And it has only been given to the closest people in my life, except for a new friend that I met recently. I'm just doubting if he gave it to someone else for the fun of it. I have already emailed him asking if he did that. He just replied to me saying NO he didn't!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3Vvor5zoI/AAAAAAAAHGM/L-FCOyNzIcY/s1600-h/kst.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345163347110776450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3Vvor5zoI/AAAAAAAAHGM/L-FCOyNzIcY/s320/kst.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who would harass you on the phone like this...would it most likely be someone you already know? What would you do in a situation like this? What is the best way to handle an unknown stalker who calls you late in the night? How would you stop them from calling you without involving the Police and having to change your number etc? I want to handle this sensibly, and in a way that does not escalate the problem. I don't want to provoke unknown people, neither do I want to press charges without knowing who it is and whether there's any real danger from him &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; sure the Police has more serious issues to work on*&lt;/span&gt;. The calls started coming only last night, so I'm gonna give it some time before I jump into rash conclusions and hasty decisions that I might regret later on. What say? Any tips or personal experiences shared, will be greatly appreciated.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:&lt;/strong&gt; Sorry I haven't been around Blogville all that much lately. Have been extremely busy. Will come around when I do get some time. Thanks for understanding! And if I don't come around at all, then the Stalker scored a date with me, sadly for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Who Can It Be Now&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Men At Work&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-4063141544502405807?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4063141544502405807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=4063141544502405807' title='108 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4063141544502405807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4063141544502405807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-know-what-you-did-last-friday.html' title='I Know What You Did Last &lt;em&gt;Friday&lt;/em&gt;!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Si3VCM4_-YI/AAAAAAAAHF8/kKEWQdiMYxg/s72-c/strang.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>108</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-8425254547876677629</id><published>2009-06-05T14:40:00.074+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-05T17:58:50.833+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Beauty Is In The Heart Of The Beholder...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary&lt;br /&gt;When troubles come and my heart burdened be...&lt;br /&gt;Then, I am still and wait here in the silence&lt;br /&gt;Until you come and sit﻿ awhile with me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieV4JYbsI/AAAAAAAAHFE/9m84zmOa3b8/s1600-h/ot1.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343695056561270466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieV4JYbsI/AAAAAAAAHFE/9m84zmOa3b8/s320/ot1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;WTF why is she taking so long? What is she buying, more shoes or more of my yummy bikkies? How I wonder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieeUvgKyI/AAAAAAAAHFU/QzMZHXHnpgg/s1600-h/ot3.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343695201676307234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 236px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieeUvgKyI/AAAAAAAAHFU/QzMZHXHnpgg/s320/ot3.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I'm just a lost lil pug waiting for my shopaholic owner to come back and get me a drink...mmmm maybe a dogoccino?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieZ6OeSgI/AAAAAAAAHFM/Xcy33_jaAzM/s1600-h/ot2.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343695125838973442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieZ6OeSgI/AAAAAAAAHFM/Xcy33_jaAzM/s320/ot2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;o I'm getting a lil tired now...life is a Biyatch, so is my owner @#$%%**! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Isn't this pug the cutest lil thing ever!!! The moment I saw these pics, they reminded me of Snuggles (re post:&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-been-over-rainbow.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've Been Over The Rainbow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;). btw both Snuggles and her brother Otis Jr came to visit me yesterday, played with me, leaving me totally refreshed and very happy. &lt;strong&gt;What&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;some animals can offer you, not even humans can. Unconditional love and mateship.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiiloVakrDI/AAAAAAAAHFc/Y231x0XpPrg/s1600-h/snuggs.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343703070237043762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 247px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiiloVakrDI/AAAAAAAAHFc/Y231x0XpPrg/s320/snuggs.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The aim of this post is to remind you that there are beautiful people, animals, trees, events, places, gestures, words, deeds etc etc around you, that in your busy schedule, may go unnoticed. Just stop for a while, and think about it. &lt;strong&gt;Pick someone/something in your life that adds beauty to your life just by being there.&lt;/strong&gt; Without having to do anything special or go out of the way...just by being thesmselves, like Snuggles. Did you think about it? &lt;strong&gt;Now take that person/thing out of your life...and see how empty your life may be, even though they may not be the greatest thing that happened to this world.&lt;/strong&gt; How do you see your life now, without them in it? How boring, dull or empty it will be. No matter how small the gesture or presence may be, if you wake up everyday feeling complete just cos these people/things are there in your life, then be thankful you have them in your life. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Everyone you know, including yourself, is special. Treat your loved-ones with respect, love and dignity, just the way you wanted to be treated. Never understimate the power of anyone you know...cos each person contributes to your being and can never be replaced. For if this whole world was to be like you, would you learn anything...would you be happy...would your life be rich? I guess not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiinV-dgrGI/AAAAAAAAHFk/wnt7ajBVI9U/s1600-h/hap3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343704953860959330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiinV-dgrGI/AAAAAAAAHFk/wnt7ajBVI9U/s320/hap3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Snuggles maybe just another dog that belongs to someone else, but the fact that now she's in my life, makes my life so beautiful. Same goes to my mum and sis, and family and friends. Also the fact that I have a job &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*cos a friend lost her job last week*&lt;/span&gt;, the fact that I have an iPod &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*one of my cousins is deaf*&lt;/span&gt;, the fact that I receive emails from friends saying Hi &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I'm not all that lonely as I claim to be*&lt;/span&gt;, the fact that I have my fingers &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*the son of a lady at work lost 3 of his fingers last night in a lawn-mowing accident!*&lt;/span&gt;, the fact that I'm breathing &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*200+ people lost their lives in the Air France crash 3 days ago* &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;etc&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;etc&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;are more than enough for me to think that this world is indeed beautiful for me right now. I know not what tomorrow brings, but I know that there's so much beauty around me today, and I'm not going to be blind to it...and I'm going to start loving it and appreciating it. Sorry I have no time to complain or to be sad, cos I'm busy admiring what I already have in my life. &lt;strong&gt;This is as good as it gets&lt;/strong&gt;...it may get better or worse, but for now, I love the way it is. &lt;strong&gt;After all, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;NOW&lt;/span&gt; is all I have.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Life may be a Biyatch, but there's also alot of beauty in that Biyatch...just try and find those beauties would ya.&lt;/strong&gt; Just be good to yourself and to others, and stay happy...no point worrying about a life that can end any minute. You might as well be happy and delay the wrinkles! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiirXN7j1hI/AAAAAAAAHFs/GRcZ6VqWW0Y/s1600-h/chrizroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343709373239907858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiirXN7j1hI/AAAAAAAAHFs/GRcZ6VqWW0Y/s320/chrizroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I want to dedicate this post to my darling friend &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chronicwriter.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Chriz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; who is another 'beauty' in my life, cos he's someone who knows just how to be a friend without having to tell him anything ;-). Guess what he did? Just cos he plays the guitar very well &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*that's a photo of his room..aint his room neat and tidy!*&lt;/span&gt;, I just asked him to try and sing &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Somewhere Over The Rainbow&lt;/span&gt; (Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole's version that I played for my first Snuggles post), and Chriz like a genuine matey, took that on board, respected my wish and compiled his own vid, especially for me! Now how very sweet is that! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*but I'm thankful for not having to be in his room to watch his performance cos if I did, you'd not be able to find me in that mess!*&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He posted the vid at his site &lt;a href="http://www.chronicwriter.com/2009/05/333somewhere-over-rainbow.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Please check it out! It's really worth watching and the way he sings and plays the guitar, adds more and more 'chronic' beauty to my life &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*the dude is a chronic professor btw*&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not just praising him, I'm truly lucky to have met Chriz and to have such a wonderful person in my life, net or not. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CHRIZ HEY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THANKS FOR KEEPING IT REAL!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Love ya mate and thank you for making me feel so loved from across the seas! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*red undies or not you're special ;-)*&lt;/span&gt; This song is for you...it's a song that brings tears to my eyes, thinking about my dad, a beauty in my life that I lost long time ago...&lt;strong&gt;but is still present in my life in spirit&lt;/strong&gt;...just like how you are present in my life in spirit though I have never met you in real. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Rain&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Dax Johnson&lt;/strong&gt; (with lyrics of &lt;strong&gt;You Raise Me Up&lt;/strong&gt;)&lt;/em&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/8476566-8425254547876677629?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8425254547876677629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=8425254547876677629' title='81 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8425254547876677629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8425254547876677629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/beauty-is-in-heart-of-beholder.html' title='Beauty Is In The &lt;em&gt;Heart &lt;/em&gt;Of The Beholder...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiieV4JYbsI/AAAAAAAAHFE/9m84zmOa3b8/s72-c/ot1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>81</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6538935590664792383</id><published>2009-06-03T15:39:00.046+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-03T18:08:17.086+10:30</updated><title type='text'>How Cheap Are You!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's A Discounted Life!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYgJ2TKfrI/AAAAAAAAHE8/pnZ-5xo0o74/s1600-h/ss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342993361488477874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYgJ2TKfrI/AAAAAAAAHE8/pnZ-5xo0o74/s320/ss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now that you've been insulted beyond blue (by the title of this post), I just want you to get to the bottom of your 'cheapness' in this post! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*lol*&lt;/span&gt; Yes you heard me right, I did say &lt;strong&gt;Cheapness&lt;/strong&gt;. :) This post is about being cheap...it's about confessing to us the max cheapness level you could ever reach...the &lt;strong&gt;cheapest thing(s) you have done&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;JUST TO SAVE MONEY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah I'm sure though we all dream of living luxurious, 'branded' lives &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Manolo Blahniks, Giorgio Armani et al*&lt;/span&gt;, we all don't get to live like that. Well sometimes we do end up buying something quite &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'haute courture'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*still don't know how to pronounce it properly!*, &lt;/span&gt;i&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;t probably is once in few years that we could afford to spend like that or indulge in splashing money on what we desire. So, in our day to day non-celebrity lives, we do things that save us money&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *whether we like it or not!*&lt;/span&gt;...cos we just have to. I mean we are not Paris Hilton with a rich daddy or Posh Spice with alot of dosh in her pockets, are we now? Neither are we Pamela Andersen to spend all our money on getting a FF cup just to run around the beach to kill men right in their couches from around the world! We really have better things to spend the &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYYqcT2wzI/AAAAAAAAHEc/gbEaAPonELA/s1600-h/bra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342985125354718002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYYqcT2wzI/AAAAAAAAHEc/gbEaAPonELA/s320/bra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;very little money that we earn so hard on &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*sad music follows...*&lt;/span&gt;. It's ok don't look so sad now &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*turns off the sad music!*&lt;/span&gt;...atleast there's a whole lot of us that belong to that latter category. That kind of gives us some relief&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *boy o boy who wants to spend endless holidays in Hawaii, eat brekky in Hyatt, wear Alex Perry to a family BBQ with probably 3 guests, give your sister a $20,000 boob-job as her 19th bday pressie, live in a mansion that needs 50 cleaners per day, shop at Tiffany's for wedding pressies?* &lt;/span&gt;Not me! I'd rather live the non-celebrity life in my dingy shack! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*now that I have to...sigh*&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we all have our unique &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*maybe wierd too*&lt;/span&gt; ways of saving money. Here are some &lt;strong&gt;real&lt;/strong&gt; examples of the wierdest/funny things that some people I know have done/do, yes JUST to save money :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYZGJDIPnI/AAAAAAAAHEk/QPHjHS291Pc/s1600-h/sl2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342985601220623986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYZGJDIPnI/AAAAAAAAHEk/QPHjHS291Pc/s320/sl2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*Eat at a friend's place on a daily basis or go to a soup kitchen even though you have a good job that pays you well &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yes I know such people who thrive on free food :)*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Shower etc at a family/friend's place on a regular basis to cut down electricity and gas bills &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*pretty smart ay? gotta try that some time...so can I use your shower tonight?*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Shop at $2 Discount/Reject stores&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *not that it's a bad thing but some discounted products can be faulty or of poor quality...one of my friends proved that by getting electrocuted!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Grow vegies in the backyard &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*this is a good one. But please don't start a farm in your backyard so that you can get your own meat!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Buy fake versions of expensive perfume, shoes and bags that smell and look like the original ones &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*this is something I simply cannot do but I wish I could...cos it somehow won't feel the same*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYYbN4nmiI/AAAAAAAAHEU/zSmk2_QRP2U/s1600-h/sl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342984863784344098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYYbN4nmiI/AAAAAAAAHEU/zSmk2_QRP2U/s320/sl1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*Don't have showers for days just to save on the Water bill &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*ewww yes I know such people too...their whole suburb stinks HAHA!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't own a car cos public transport is cheaper than having a car &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I don't know how people can do that, cos I can't live w.o. my car...it's a ticket to freedom. But I do use public transport too*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;*Take your GF/BF to Maccas or a toilet on a date!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Eat left-overs for days and days, even if they have expired and gone to Food heaven! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yuk!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYaCZMTfBI/AAAAAAAAHEs/8u66Y38x6iA/s1600-h/cheap.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342986636346227730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYaCZMTfBI/AAAAAAAAHEs/8u66Y38x6iA/s320/cheap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Skip coffee every now and then &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I'm forced to do this now that I have a mortgage but that also means No &lt;strong&gt;Diego chats&lt;/strong&gt; every morning :*(*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When on a lunch/dinner Date (with a friend or a partner), get the other person to pay always telling them you lost your wallet for the 900th time! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*that is way too cheap! I know alot of people like that*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell me...do you or anyone else take crazy measures to save money? Share with us and make it funny too! I need some valuable tips here cos some people think I spend a tad too much ;-) Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheapskate Alert!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYdeKprnXI/AAAAAAAAHE0/tB0P5LLFnG8/s1600-h/kistru.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342990412014132594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYdeKprnXI/AAAAAAAAHE0/tB0P5LLFnG8/s320/kistru.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;Btw I'm about to &lt;strong&gt;break&lt;/strong&gt; some heart-&lt;strong&gt;breaking&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;BREAKING&lt;/strong&gt; news about Diego that had me &lt;strong&gt;broken&lt;/strong&gt; during &lt;strong&gt;break&lt;/strong&gt;fast! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*my achy breaky heart is broken beyond plastic surgery now!*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;He's engaged!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Not to me, ofcourse!&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *rolling eyes*&lt;/span&gt; Thanks to all the Blogville men who prayed Diego to be engaged...it worked! And don't ask me how I found out, I just did. Hence this song. I'm sulking here, in my T and shorts, freezing my ass off on a cold winters day having forgotten to wear warm clothes...thinking of Diego and a love that got lost in a coffee machine &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*bloody cheapo, why did ya flirt with me cheapskate? Hence I dedicate this Cheap post to ya! Savings brand and all.*&lt;/span&gt; As most Romantic tales end in my life, this ended pretty soon too. But I know I will find my one true love...some day, in the next century or so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*Keshi drafts out a new plan to check out a shirtless John-Abraham lookalike in her neighborhood, now that she's so over Diego. yeah it took just 5mins to get over him btw ;-)*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Unbreak My Heart&lt;/strong&gt; (Regresa a mi) by &lt;strong&gt;Il Divo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-6538935590664792383?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6538935590664792383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6538935590664792383' title='125 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6538935590664792383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6538935590664792383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-cheap-are-you.html' title='How &lt;em&gt;Cheap &lt;/em&gt;Are You!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiYgJ2TKfrI/AAAAAAAAHE8/pnZ-5xo0o74/s72-c/ss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>125</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-6948922885330928532</id><published>2009-06-01T11:13:00.063+10:30</published><updated>2009-06-02T10:10:18.224+10:30</updated><title type='text'>On A Blanket With My Baby...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM0-GQv1gI/AAAAAAAAHDo/X7Fd2pi3Xrw/s1600-h/DSC04274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342171824428930562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM0-GQv1gI/AAAAAAAAHDo/X7Fd2pi3Xrw/s320/DSC04274.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You may think I'm a girl with a million friends. You may think I have no time for a single friend. You may think I have no time to love. You may think I have appointments that run over 24hrs. You may think I wear plastic smiles. You may think I have no heart. You may think I don't know how to care. You may think I never tried. You may think I'm insensitive. You may think I'm not all that I appear to be. You may think I'm not worthy of your smiles. You may think I'm just a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for me, &lt;strong&gt;FRIEND&lt;/strong&gt; is a very precious term. Sometimes I have the whole world laughing with me but at other times I weep alone. Sometimes I have a bunch of friends chatting with me, and at other times it's just me and the beach...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM03PggU3I/AAAAAAAAHDg/y4x2tFU-Pmw/s1600-h/bea3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342171706651857778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM03PggU3I/AAAAAAAAHDg/y4x2tFU-Pmw/s320/bea3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There's something that I think alot of people here need to comprehend. Just cos I have many commentors in my blog, it doesn't mean I'm cheap, shallow or don't carry any depth when it comes to friendships. Some old friends don't even stop by now. Oh well, I may have a 100 readers per post but not all 100 are my FRIENDS, neither do I email each and everyone, neither do I have the time for it! If you notice from day 1, I never put my email addy on my profile. There must be a reason for that. If I was crazy about collecting 100s of 'friends' just to be popular, then I'd have given my email addy to everyone and advertised myself all over. Actually, only a handful of people from the net have my email addy with them and if you have it, then you are someone I trust. Alot of people find it very easy to judge me, I don't care anymore. &lt;strong&gt;No matter what you do, people will always judge you&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;You turn left, they will judge you. You turn right, they will judge you. You stand still, they will judge you!&lt;/strong&gt; I really can't sit here and get affected by what each and everyone thinks about me. I know that I have tried keeping in touch with some people here...people I thought were worth my time and energy. But just cos they couldn't keep in touch with me and took their own sweet time to get back to me, that doesn't mean I'm gonna have to cop the blame and should be thought of as someone who doesn't have time for her FRIENDS? &lt;strong&gt;I have my limits, self-respect and dignity too.&lt;/strong&gt; After a certain amount of time trying to contact someone and if they don't come back after a &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1FCL-t5I/AAAAAAAAHDw/p7WbwKIroJk/s1600-h/beach88.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342171943594276754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1FCL-t5I/AAAAAAAAHDw/p7WbwKIroJk/s320/beach88.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;certain time, it's not my nature to go after them again and again. Cos now its YOUR turn to respond. &lt;strong&gt;Some people have a zilch sense of AKNOWLEDGEMENT, and that is such a poor quality to have. &lt;/strong&gt;You may be well-educated, rich, goodlooking etc etc but if you can't and don't know how to respond to someone, then you haven't reached your potential yet. What stuns me is how these same people so conveniently turn around their mistakes on me, and paint me with a specific image as to being shallow, selfish, egoistic etc just cos they didn't have the courtesy to respond.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; This is Blogville...if and when you leave Blogville on a long break, I believe you should atleast let your friends know that you won't be around for awhile.&lt;/span&gt; That way they don't have to keep thinking what happened to you etc. If you suddenly disappear and ignore all your friends' messages for months and months, and then suddenly turn up one day, &lt;strong&gt;please atleast be kind to the people who were worried about you and tried numerous times to find out what happened to you&lt;/strong&gt;. Blaming them for your absence and for your lack of response is not quite the fair way to go about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM0zTRANrI/AAAAAAAAHDY/LHnNaVQ3pIo/s1600-h/beach1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342171638941103794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM0zTRANrI/AAAAAAAAHDY/LHnNaVQ3pIo/s320/beach1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I believe that a FRIEND don't come around and blame you, especially when they are petty issues. A true FRIEND would appreciate you even more when they return. &lt;strong&gt;I guess it takes alot more than these petty finger-pointing and grudge-carrying in public, to become a FRIEND.&lt;/strong&gt; I'm a girl with a set of values, and I don't trade those values for anything in the world.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Actually I'm too old to engage in these silly teenagerish arguments on the net! :) &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;If you think I'm not worth your time, well good for you. Cos I think the same about you. I'm over it, I hope you are too.&lt;/span&gt; Even if I had to be without a single FRIEND, I know I will survive. And those countless assumptions you make about me, infact tell me alot about you yourself. &lt;strong&gt;I don't believe in net friends anymore, like I used to.&lt;/strong&gt; I have blogged long enough to know that many people are here just to vent out their frustrations, for some quick attention and 15mins of fame, and to display their egos. &lt;strong&gt;Only very few are genuine and I think they are enough for me to get by with.&lt;/strong&gt; Now I'm just here to write my feelings out, share knoweldge and to learn. Im not here so much for the FRIENDSHIP thingy...it's all so fake. I'm so over those days when I went behind people and begged for their friendships or begged for their approval of me. I learnt this place is not the place for forming solid bonds. Maybe bonds based on Writing and that's about it. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So please don't expect me to fall at your feet, check your every new blog that you create every few days, soothe your ego, leave you a million blog messages, email you 200 times and be your forever-friend. Cos I can't. I'm not a person like that neither do I have the time for it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1P2UA8nI/AAAAAAAAHD4/4lcrRgvYVXg/s1600-h/bea7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342172129385312882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1P2UA8nI/AAAAAAAAHD4/4lcrRgvYVXg/s320/bea7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm human too and I have my own set of standards. If they dont suit you, well feel free to forget me. I'm not the perfect friend that you want me to be. I'm full of imperfections and yes I make alot of wrong decisions...so it's best you chuck away someone as 'insignificant' as I am from your superior life. &lt;strong&gt;And please&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;don't expect from others what you can't be to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1VH1LkMI/AAAAAAAAHEA/f6h-w0u-vLI/s1600-h/beach77.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342172219987169474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM1VH1LkMI/AAAAAAAAHEA/f6h-w0u-vLI/s320/beach77.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's the first day of Winter and I miss the beach so very much! This is one of my fav songs from one of my fav movies ever (Beaches). &lt;strong&gt;When every tree is sleeping, when everyone seems so distant, I always had one friend beside me...and that's the Beach...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(btw the very first pic in this post was taken by a friend of mine in a beach here in Aus...isnt that a lovely shot!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Under the boardwalk, down by the sea...&lt;br /&gt;On a blanket with my baby, is where I'll be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM_7thdcoI/AAAAAAAAHEI/BfxGzuxCrqM/s1600-h/beach78.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342183878056309378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM_7thdcoI/AAAAAAAAHEI/BfxGzuxCrqM/s320/beach78.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wanna dedicate this post to some of my oldest friends here who never judged me but sailed along with me in style and calm composure (years and years of unaffected bonds. If I met you just 2yrs ago, your name won't be here, so please don't be disappointed). They accepted me just the way I am, like I accepted them just the way they are. They are &lt;strong&gt;Shionge, Beach_Bum, Cazzie, Phoso, Krys, Murane, Jay, Asha, Nora, Donn, Silvara, Menchie, Steve, Loon_gal, Coco, Uttara, Ria, Vesty, Margie, Amit, Jeevan, Saffy, Ishita&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Dawny.&lt;/strong&gt; TY for being who you are and ty for not forgetting me! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;People like you make me realise everything that I CAN be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Under The Boardwalk&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Bette Midler&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-6948922885330928532?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6948922885330928532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=6948922885330928532' title='205 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6948922885330928532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/6948922885330928532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/million-dollar-baby.html' title='On A Blanket With My Baby...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SiM0-GQv1gI/AAAAAAAAHDo/X7Fd2pi3Xrw/s72-c/DSC04274.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>205</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3797533860103482249</id><published>2009-05-29T12:03:00.022+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-29T12:48:18.413+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Land Of Mystical Beauty!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="412"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8KW2gbGdCOg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8KW2gbGdCOg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="412" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is my motherland, this is Sri Lanka!&lt;/strong&gt; I want the world to know how beautiful a land it is, and amidst all the bloodshed, tears and sufferings in the last few decades, my country did not lose it's strength and beauty. It is all still there and I know she will rise from the ashes and deliver again. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Where the British once ruled, where the kings once reigned, where the Buddha once visited, where the temples and nature hum tunes from the heart, where the genuine smiles live, where the lakes and flowers tell you stories, where people will warmly welcome you into their homes, where money is not everything, where the simple life is appreciated, where the culture is rich, where the paddyfields and mountains echo peace, where parents and elders are your God, where the sound of the village temple bells offer you pure bliss, where the green green grass takes you home, where baby Dee lives, and where Keshi was born... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please watch this video with Sound. It gives you a brief intro to where I come from...my heritage...where my heart really is wherever I may go...where my father was born and where he died...where my memories rule...where my culture and life was shaped into what I am today...where my childhood years were spent...where magical beauty lives forever. &lt;strong&gt;Watch it to the end, cos I am in this video too ;-)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*oii not the monkey ok!*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Can you tell me which part I'm referring to when I said I'm in this video?&lt;/strong&gt; Let's see how clever you are. Good luck and hey have a beautiful weekend! Let Love somehow take you Home...for there is no other place on Earth like Home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/8476566-3797533860103482249?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3797533860103482249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3797533860103482249' title='91 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3797533860103482249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3797533860103482249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/land-of-mysitcal-beauty.html' title='The Land Of Mystical Beauty!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>91</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-2151802372052560349</id><published>2009-05-28T14:39:00.019+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-28T17:14:02.528+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Mocha Chocolata Ya Ya...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4pAb1PfXI/AAAAAAAAHDA/JBVgSnR0r1k/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4bs-0j5EI/AAAAAAAAHC4/e7KnfibYV8M/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4acUGUkSI/AAAAAAAAHCo/sVQ2RVn9als/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4V3LQRAsI/AAAAAAAAHCg/dHGbYRT9O_0/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh32D1eaX7I/AAAAAAAAHBQ/ZmMEZo-5JKA/s1600-h/bang.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh35nvVr4oI/AAAAAAAAHBg/ZXoQvde07nw/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh3-OZsF02I/AAAAAAAAHCI/_04mPM8KRok/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4bYSygybI/AAAAAAAAHCw/3yoywl1M4ac/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4paO7uOtI/AAAAAAAAHDQ/82SZBcVU-Ak/s1600-h/cof3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340751738769914578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4paO7uOtI/AAAAAAAAHDQ/82SZBcVU-Ak/s320/cof3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hola amigos! I have some &lt;strong&gt;'Living La Vida Mocha'&lt;/strong&gt; news for ya! Actually I' ve got breaking news about Diego (re last post &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/te-queiro-diego.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Te Quiero Diego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ). &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Dooo yooo waant thoo nawww? &lt;/span&gt;Calm down, he didn't ask me out, not yet ;-). But, it looks like Diego looks forward to my daily visits to the cafe as much as I look forward to them ooh lala! His facial and &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*bloody-hot-beyond-human-comprehension*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;bodily&lt;/strong&gt; expressions say so! The moment I walk in to the cafe, he dashes in to the coffee-machine area from wherever he is &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*drops all current work he's doing, yep the Carribean Queen is here so yeah!* &lt;/span&gt;and asks &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'how arrrre u todai?'&lt;/span&gt; with a deep husky voice which in other words should mean &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'how exciting to see u baby!'&lt;/span&gt;, that makes me wanna say&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'good ty, but could be better if u go Sailing with me!'&lt;/span&gt;. Seriously the dude seems to have a crush on me. No I'm not hallucinating or joking or blowing my trumpet either. Let me tell you more about his rather 'cluey' behavior this week. Then you decide.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh35_Uj9sII/AAAAAAAAHBo/ILKdJehclKc/s1600-h/cof33.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh32PQn1ZDI/AAAAAAAAHBY/XXyxYsN6jQM/s1600-h/bang.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh3-v_8c32I/AAAAAAAAHCQ/-lRxQAnTe6o/s1600-h/cof33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340704833703567202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh3-v_8c32I/AAAAAAAAHCQ/-lRxQAnTe6o/s320/cof33.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Tuesday morning I walk into the Cafe, and he comes running towards me with a smile on his face like he's known me all his life since the days he was in diapers &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*man it's only been 2 weeks or so!*&lt;/span&gt;. I thought I'd give him some more time to figure out if this is the way he greets everyone, or is it only me that he's so very clearly 'chuffed' to see. There was a 'granny' who had walked in to the cafe, and even she at the ripe old age of probably 200, couldn't keep her eyes off Diego! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*dirty nanna lay off!*&lt;/span&gt; She nearly picked him up! I swear she asked him &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'where are you from?'&lt;/span&gt; with a twinkle in her eye, staring at Diego's hunky back. Flirty granma keep your hands off Diego ok!&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *well atleast until I get over this crush plz LOL!*&lt;/span&gt;. He was very kind to her too but I saw a different look on his face when he was talking to her...it was more like a &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ur-as-old-as-my-nanna-aww-u-remind-me-of-her&lt;/span&gt; kind of look.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *thank God Im relieved!*&lt;/span&gt;. But whenever he speaks to me it's more like a &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;so-cut-the-crap-woman-now-when-r-we-going-out&lt;/span&gt; kinda look.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *am I stoked to bits or what!*&lt;/span&gt;. So on Tuesday, Wednesday AAAND Today, we chatted longer than usual and I almost forgot that I do have something called an office, and that I had to leave this cafe and go to that office to get back to work! After the super sultry Nanna-in-an-orange-wig left, he went on to ask where I was from &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I felt like saying, I'm from Sri Lanka but in the process of getting Colombian citizenship*&lt;/span&gt;. Well I told him I was from SL, while I was thinking what other 'cool' questions I could ask him next, and as soon as I wanted to ask something my tongue gave up on me&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *Am I surprised? no baby no, u r born to be tongue-tied in front of hunks and look like ur in dire need of a speech therapist!*&lt;/span&gt;. Anyways, he went on to ask more and more questions about me, like where do I work, which building, what do I do etc etc. When I told him I work as an IT Consultant, he said &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'o u smaarrrrrt girrrl! I weeesh I cood work with com-putherrs'&lt;/span&gt;. And then I said&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'well why dun we swap jobs then?'&lt;/span&gt; and tried to smile stylishly like &lt;strong&gt;Jennifer Aniston&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*failed badly cos I'm pretty sure I looked like an idiot*&lt;/span&gt;. And he goes &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'If I had the brains like yooo, I woood lov to do it'&lt;/span&gt;. I was thinking if he had any brains at all within that hunky head he'd have asked me out by now! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes* &lt;/span&gt;So, I replied &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'o well, that has nothing to do with brains, I mean I cant make coffee like u or bake the delicious sweets and food u guys make here. Everyone is good at something'&lt;/span&gt;. hmmm I was doing a smartass &lt;strong&gt;Salma Hayek&lt;/strong&gt; there that eventually backfired on me! I felt lke the biggest moron breathing on this planet cos I just confessed I can't make coffee or bake or cook! That would mean I'm a hopeless woman right? WOW Keshi applause applause! Actually my coffee sucks. My friends tell me that the kind of coffee I make &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*with cold milk straight from the fridge due to a mega-watt lazyness that I'm born with*&lt;/span&gt; my husband would leave me for another woman...but I'm not worried. Cos now it looks like my husband would most likely be a coffee maker! ;-)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh37V2XkvFI/AAAAAAAAHBw/uEAALOY63RY/s1600-h/cof1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340701085921492050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh37V2XkvFI/AAAAAAAAHBw/uEAALOY63RY/s320/cof1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, apart from our daily chats, today I nearly passed out and reached Heaven...cloudy room #9 btw! Cos Diego was wearing a &lt;strong&gt;black singlet&lt;/strong&gt; today. You may wonder what's the big deal about it. Well there's indeed a very big deal about it ok, so stop making ugly faces at me. He usually wears a white singlet and even that looks so darn sizzling on him. But the black one, against his &lt;strong&gt;mocha&lt;/strong&gt; complexion, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*mildly*&lt;/span&gt; hairy chest &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*trust me I never thought I'd like a guy with a hairy chest but now all that has changed ok, in a span of few days. I'm all FOR hair now, even the Gorilla cut!*&lt;/span&gt; and his broad shoulders made me wanna touch him. o yes TOUCH him just like that. I didn't though &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*dun panic*&lt;/span&gt;. I was brought up to behave decently, so yeah there's no chance of me touching him without images of my mum coming up in clouds saying &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'Keshi u bad girl, I'm going to have to lock u up in a room for being so naughty...leave that Diego alone or I'll shoot u now and will not attend your funeral either!'&lt;/span&gt;. Like it matters. So yeah, no chance you see. Being brought up in a conservative household, I just cant 'touch' certain 'things' &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*super sad music follows...more like tearjerkers*&lt;/span&gt;. So today, he was there again, and he started the convo again &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*even when I give him my order and remain silent, he's always the first to start the convo*&lt;/span&gt;. I prefer to remain silent cos I'm speech-phobic these days...I seem to utter the dumbest of things for some wierd reason. So he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; asked me what my plans were for the weekend and I went on and on and on as if he really needed to know all of that! Hang on, why am I even going this far? Keshi, stop on your tracks you Speedygonzales, or soon you'll be on pathetic Lost-Love Social Security benefits! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh39aws2ZEI/AAAAAAAAHCA/p3zjikrWsz0/s1600-h/jens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340703369322718274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh39aws2ZEI/AAAAAAAAHCA/p3zjikrWsz0/s320/jens.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, as I got my coffee and gave him the money, his fingers slightly TOUCHED mine! OMG the electricity that passed through my veins right then were of a voltage higher than that of entire Australia's electricity supply! He did realise that too and he looked at me with a sneaky bad-boyish smile. I think he did that on purpose and it kind of took me by surprise. I pretended not to notice though I was 'celebrating' inside my head, but I said goodbye with a slight grin, as he said &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'have a gooood weekend, see u on Mondiii!'&lt;/span&gt;. And as if I couldn't be any dumber, I turned around and asked him&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'well ur not here on Mondays arent u?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;OMG what a despo Keshi is!&lt;/span&gt; And then he said&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'oyeah I'll see u on Tuesdaii!'&lt;/span&gt;. I was like, &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'ok Keshi WTF is wrong with ya, get out of here before u make him realise ur a stalking dumbo bigger than his cafe!'&lt;/span&gt;. So I stepped out of the Cafe in style, trying to walk like a Supermodel on the ramp, in my black boots and black tights, showing off my long legs and stylishly caressing my hair off my forehead, hoping he'd look at me &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*at that moment I also hoped that I wouldn't trip and fall cos I'm very good at falling down in front of guys. Refer to my massive Falling Encylcopaedia in the archives of this blog*&lt;/span&gt;. I walked out of the cafe dreaming about his black singlet and smooth fingertips...I don't think I'll look at black singlets in the same way ever again, neither do I wanna wash my hands right now!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh37l5Vu4yI/AAAAAAAAHB4/SEJL-gCbk5U/s1600-h/xof55.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh3-7-pHLUI/AAAAAAAAHCY/GGjfqyRRtJU/s1600-h/xof55.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340705039512448322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh3-7-pHLUI/AAAAAAAAHCY/GGjfqyRRtJU/s320/xof55.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;At office, I've been telling everyone about him, and the guys are teasing me badly. They think I go there for Diego and not for the coffee, duh as if! Ask my blog friends, they know I just go there for the good coffee! ;-) Also, that friend who knows about Diego is going to all the coffee shops in her area to find a Diego-equivalent in her life. I asked her to give it up, cos she'll never find another Diego in this world. LOL! At home, I walk around like I'm born Spanish, trying to be a spicey Spanish flame, and practise speaking Spanish infront of the mirror&lt;strong&gt;...let me tell ya, it looked pathetic beyond all pathetic things in the world put together! &lt;/strong&gt;Diego might even have a GF...but it doesn't bother me. This is just a temporary phase but will last a sweet eternity...nothing serious ya know &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*although I've already dreamt of getting married to Diego, meeting his Spanish family, cooking for him, dining and wining with him, and of other things ahem!*&lt;/span&gt;. He told me that he starts work at 5am...and I realised how different our lifestyles are. &lt;strong&gt;But we share one thing...the warmth and friendliness about us.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Diego is a hottie, not just cos he looks good...but cos his heart is good too. And that attracts me big time.&lt;/strong&gt; It's no point looking good but being unable to reach out to people.&lt;strong&gt; I have met countless goodlooking people but with no charisma or with no personality, and with a huge ego&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*u know the massive male ego duncha!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; They turn me off big time. Often saying Hi, asking how the other person's day was, smiling, sharing and talking with a total stranger makes a BIG difference in people's lives &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*both your's and their's*&lt;/span&gt;. That's what LIFE is...the simple yet genuine life. So LIVE it and enjoy every second of it people. Be nice to people...you can't expect people to be nice to you without you being nice to them?&lt;strong&gt; Smile at someone today and make yourself and them happy, and less lonely, atleast for awhile.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; And have a&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mocha chocolata ya ya! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Take A Chance On Me &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;ABBA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-2151802372052560349?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2151802372052560349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=2151802372052560349' title='96 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2151802372052560349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2151802372052560349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/mocha-chocolata-ya-ya.html' title='Mocha Chocolata Ya Ya...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sh4paO7uOtI/AAAAAAAAHDQ/82SZBcVU-Ak/s72-c/cof3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>96</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-8650871691592641214</id><published>2009-05-25T14:59:00.060+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-25T17:35:48.508+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Thank God!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosBfQzJ-I/AAAAAAAAHAw/QDk9TX_2xI8/s1600-h/win1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339628712284596194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosBfQzJ-I/AAAAAAAAHAw/QDk9TX_2xI8/s320/win1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, in the past I have been angry with God, I have abused Him, I have ridiculed Him, I have questioned His existence and His conscience, I have looked down upon Him, I have assured myself He didn't exist, I have thrown fits at Him, I have yelled at Him and I also thought I was losing my faith in Him at a speed that could land me the highest 'speeding' ticket ever! But, in the last 2 weeks He finally proved to me that I was wrong...that &lt;strong&gt;He indeed exists and that all my fits were due to the fact that it takes time for Him to win the confidence in me....and that Confidence is my own hard work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShoroCQwpQI/AAAAAAAAHAY/R_ugzBEWW_E/s1600-h/home1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339628275003073794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShoroCQwpQI/AAAAAAAAHAY/R_ugzBEWW_E/s320/home1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't ask me how, why, what, when, where, but alot of what happened quite fast in the last 14 days proved to me that He is indeed watching us from afar. I have never been too religious &lt;strong&gt;although somewhere deep down my heart I had kept a shimmering little shrine for God&lt;/strong&gt;. And that flame never died...only that it flickered madly every now and then. Amidst my greatest fears, vile tantrums, aggressive demands and deafening screams, He never seem to have left my side. &lt;strong&gt;I was the fragile one swaying in the breeze, He was the stone made of Love.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Shor7r_EOUI/AAAAAAAAHAo/OnTXsfwE7nA/s1600-h/win7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339628612620663106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Shor7r_EOUI/AAAAAAAAHAo/OnTXsfwE7nA/s320/win7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember I told you I was under severe pressure and tonns of stress a couple of days ago? And I never thought I'd be able to break this news to you so soon, never! I really thought I'd be coming back to Blogville maybe in Aug or Sept, and that too with my dreams crushed. But I'm here sooner than that with a new dream realised, a totally unexpected one, cos God's hand played a part in my life at last, and a miracle took place last week! I cannot disclose all the information or how all the events unfolded here in my blog due to privacy reasons,&lt;strong&gt; but all I can tell you is it was nothing but a miracle.&lt;/strong&gt; I'm not a person who foolishly believes or imagines things like that, but I do know very well when something is out of the ordinary...and when God plays a part in a certain situation, it becomes very obvious to me. Such situations are few and far between in my life but when they happen, they happen in a phenomenal way. &lt;strong&gt;And for it to happen in such a short time and the way that I had wanted it to but beyond all hopes, it has to be through divine intervention and an angelic touch!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosgK4He1I/AAAAAAAAHBA/uVxXMR3yVAc/s1600-h/win4.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339629239388306258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosgK4He1I/AAAAAAAAHBA/uVxXMR3yVAc/s320/win4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Thanks for all your prayers and positive vibes...I'm over that phase now and I'm now a new Home owner!&lt;/span&gt; I bought my first property ever and all on my own :). It was not planned, neither did I ever think I was gonna buy a place so soon. I was pushed to buy a place in a miraculous way! The circumstances under which it all happened is still a wonder to me, and all I can say is that all the hard work in my life didn't go invain after all. &lt;strong&gt;I always believed that if you work hard, if you treat people with kindness no matter how they treat you, if you are honest, if you give life your best, you will somehow succeed some day. God will look at you some day, if not today. &lt;/strong&gt;I lost my dad when I &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;was in my teens, my mum brought us up all by herself, I did my best in school and at Uni, I paved my own path once I joined work, I got my own car, I paid all my debts and now I'm standing on my own 2 feet, and &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Shor1bX3COI/AAAAAAAAHAg/93pk2qLMDHE/s1600-h/win6.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339628505082038498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Shor1bX3COI/AAAAAAAAHAg/93pk2qLMDHE/s320/win6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;looking after mum as well. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm not overjoyed that I bought a house all by myself (alot of people do that on their own), but I'm really happy that I could go this far in life after all the struggles in my life, when so many people were throwing stones at me, some never believed I'd do well in life and when I myself at some stage doubted if I could make it or not.&lt;/span&gt; But today, I realise that hard work indeed pays off some day. &lt;strong&gt;And that some day you will get what you deserve.&lt;/strong&gt; So don't give up, don't let others get to you, work hard, stay focused, and most important of all, don't forget that God will arrive when the time is right. It most probably will be at a least expected time&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yeah he's notorious! ;-)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;And don't let that fire in you die&lt;/strong&gt;...let it keep burning for Him amidst all your doubts and troubles somehow.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And just be free, be happy, be whoever you are and keep smiling no matter what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosHONPrzI/AAAAAAAAHA4/m_6_7Htwgl0/s1600-h/win66.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShoudMohyiI/AAAAAAAAHBI/blhkP8FVSHc/s1600-h/win3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339631387343440418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShoudMohyiI/AAAAAAAAHBI/blhkP8FVSHc/s320/win3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was going to be in London on the 15th of May for a wedding, and then to Paris...after everything was planned for the trip including my saree, tickets etc, my trip suddenly got cancelled due to some urgent work here at home, but in a rather mysetrious way...and then something else happened that pushed me into buying the place w.o. any prior plans at all! Everything happened so fast, totally unplanned and under alot of pressure. &lt;strong&gt;Eventually it all turned out to be for the best.&lt;/strong&gt; I guess certain events happen in our lives for a pretty good reason. Now I strongly believe in Destiny more than ever before. I have just signed the contract...in a couple of weeks, I get the house that I bought through my own hard work and with no HELP at all except from one person. Thank GOD! ;-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Now I Can Dance &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;Tina Arena&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-8650871691592641214?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8650871691592641214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=8650871691592641214' title='154 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8650871691592641214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/8650871691592641214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/thank-god.html' title='Thank &lt;em&gt;God!&lt;/em&gt;'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShosBfQzJ-I/AAAAAAAAHAw/QDk9TX_2xI8/s72-c/win1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>154</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-240046203099083557</id><published>2009-05-19T10:54:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-19T20:40:39.468+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Looking Back Before Going Forward...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIirmyBtbI/AAAAAAAAG-4/KXY4Usi7Fj8/s1600-h/bud1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337366640927552946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 306px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIirmyBtbI/AAAAAAAAG-4/KXY4Usi7Fj8/s320/bud1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIYchdH9cI/AAAAAAAAG-o/DtZKKvisT-E/s1600-h/bud1.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yesterday my motherland Sri Lanka proclaimed that the 30yr long war was finally over! That the LTTE had been destroyed to the core and it's leader gunned down. While most Sri Lankans around the world are 'celebrating' this defining moment in history, I'm not sure if I can 'celebrate' a bloodbath. So many lives were taken, so many people left destitute, so many kids orphaned, so much of bloodshed and tears. I myself lost 2 uncles who were in the forces, and so many others lost their loved-ones in this awfully long and draining battle. I don't know if I can rejoice a bloodbath. For I cannot find a 'happy' piece among the million shattered pieces of so many lives.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; I really don't believe that we can find &lt;strong&gt;Peace&lt;/strong&gt; among so much of &lt;strong&gt;Violence&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; It is hard for me to look at the sad faces of scores of innocents in camps, dead bodies, destruction, rivers of blood and tears, and say 'hey I celebrate this day'. I'm sorry my fellowmen I cannot do that somehow. I'm far away from the real situation in SL and it is not my nature to just go with what everyone is doing...I just stop and think before I do something. To me, a celebration means a happy moment, far from death and violence, be it for any purpose. Though I'm relieved that this may be the beginning of a fresh era for my country, I don't see any reason to dance about a war that deprived so many people of their lives and dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So, today is a day that I look back. &lt;strong&gt;Looking back is important before we rush forward. It is important to remember the ruins, the ashes, the blood and the tears that carved the path for TODAY to arrive.&lt;/strong&gt; So,&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I just want to remember my 2 dearest uncles and all those men and women who laid down their lives for us to have this day. I just want to remember all those innocents who died in countless suicide attacks all around the country over so many years. I just want to &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIdarbG66I/AAAAAAAAG-w/k5EukxZFInI/s1600-h/lamp.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;remember all those innocent civilians and children that had no opinion whatsoever on this war who had their lives altered forever. I just want to remember those who were forced to shutup and die just cos they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. I just want to remember those who were deprived of their basic human rights and human equality just cos they were born into a Tamil/Sinhalese family. I just want to remember those innocent Tamil youth who were mislead by the LTTE and had their lives destroyed for nothing. I just want to remember all the brave soldiers who sacrificed their lives for us to have this day. The truth is it didn't even have to get to this if people knew what Tolerance, Respect and Humanity were. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I just want to remember each and everyone who is not here today (both Tamil and Sinhalese), only because they paved a path for us to see this day at the cost of their own lives.&lt;/span&gt; We know not what we do...but I shall always remember you. &lt;strong&gt;Today I don't want to CELEBRATE, I just want to REMEMBER.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337368129570752770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIkCQaOSQI/AAAAAAAAG_A/I-q3L1Oe3ss/s320/lamp.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Sathyam Shivam Sundaram&lt;/strong&gt; (Hindi bhajan)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-240046203099083557?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/240046203099083557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=240046203099083557' title='128 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/240046203099083557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/240046203099083557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/looking-back-before-going-forward.html' title='Looking Back Before Going Forward...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/ShIirmyBtbI/AAAAAAAAG-4/KXY4Usi7Fj8/s72-c/bud1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>128</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-4786196744566462539</id><published>2009-05-13T17:07:00.040+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:09:35.804+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Living On The Edge...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpylaOkR3I/AAAAAAAAG-Q/tEa_ILbh0VQ/s1600-h/flap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335202695594919794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpylaOkR3I/AAAAAAAAG-Q/tEa_ILbh0VQ/s320/flap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm sure many of you must be wondering what my disappearing act was all about. Hey I'm still alive :). Thanks &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Ria, Mayz &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; Rakesh&lt;/span&gt; for being so concerned. I got too busy at work and things at home took a sudden and sharp turn. &lt;strong&gt;Changes.&lt;/strong&gt; Yes that's what I'm going through right now. And it's not a slow change. It's a very fast one where I have to make on-the-spot decisions without much time left to ponder upon. &lt;strong&gt;I have always been a self-made person. Nothing about me is borrowed, bought or forced upon&lt;/strong&gt;. So, for a person like me, I have no one to turn to or ask for help. I don't like asking for help unless I'm totally near-death :). Even then I'm not sure if I will ask for help...I might die with some dignity. Why do I sound so proud? Well I did ask for help long time ago, and I have given the dues in return too. But I learnt a big lesson. Depending on others often makes you a slave. Some people help without any expectations and never remind you of the help so generously offered. Some others spew venom on you for years and years. And yes I have been at the receiving end of it and I know just how it feels...how it rips your heart and makes you bleed. Something that someone said recently shook me totally. But it's all good. &lt;strong&gt;Cos I believe that God or nature (or whatever it is) don't put you with people and circumstances that you want to be with. We are put with people and situations that we can learn from...where our personalities grow and develop from those very experiences.&lt;/strong&gt; If not, it will be one big happy party you will never wake up from. Though it sounds good to be like that, I'm sure we will all get tired from it, especially when there are no challenges. &lt;strong&gt;Life is about challenges&lt;/strong&gt;. And those challenges come in the form of people you can't get along with, situations that make you feel like you're better off dead, sudden changes that don't give you ample time at all. I'm in such a situation right now. Though I'd like to be somewhere else right now dipping my toes in cool waters of Haiti or Hawaii, somehow I see that I'm walking fast towards my distant dream right now. &lt;strong&gt;Difficult situations in life sometimes pushes you towards reaching a dream much faster than you thought you would.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;dream that slumbered at the back of my mind as a 'some day' kind of realisation, is now approaching me faster than I ever thought it could.&lt;/span&gt; That's the good thing about sudden changes. It wakes you up from your sleep and makes you work harder...under pressure it may be, but I know that from almost all the achievements in my life so far, I've worked the best when I'm pushed to the limit and when I am given no time and space to flirt with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpzniAdoOI/AAAAAAAAG-g/4QOn7Z3fLwg/s1600-h/ang3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335203831554613474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpzniAdoOI/AAAAAAAAG-g/4QOn7Z3fLwg/s320/ang3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Right now, I'm living 48hr days, packing as much time as I could into my schedule, balancing both work and the personal issues at hand. And I'm proud of myself. &lt;strong&gt;Cos now I realise my potential even more. I can do amazing things. I will survive this. And I know I will walk out of it unscathed. &lt;/strong&gt;Cos my instincts say so. And &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I believe one's Instincts is the best mentor ever&lt;/span&gt;...no one else. I don't want your help, I don't want your guidance, I don't want to cry on your shoulder, cos I have my Instincts. And with that, I will get by and I will live, be it on edge or not. And I promise I will show you what I'm capable of by myself. I like taking risks and I don't mind seeing myself dangling at the edge of the cliff. I'd like to test the unknown territories of my survival instincts. Cos if I don't get pushed, I'll never know them. &lt;strong&gt;You gottta be pushed to KNOW your potential. Your wings need to be ripped off and stolen from you for you to find new skills in you...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;btw I won't be regular with blogs as much as I'd like to be for the next X amount of days/weeks, I don't know. It all depends how my fate unfolds in the next couple of weeks. But I'll be here checking comments, publishing them and dropping by your blogs whenever I can. I &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpytjFY3LI/AAAAAAAAG-Y/0wilZN1oSR8/s1600-h/g2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335202835411295410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpytjFY3LI/AAAAAAAAG-Y/0wilZN1oSR8/s320/g2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;will reply to you all and I will also post whenever I get time, I promise. This doesn't mean I'm leaving Blogville, so don't panic. Just that I won't be as regular as I used to be til I sort out the current issues, that's all. Please bear with me and I hope you'd understand where I'm coming from.&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; Thanks to all those who keep dropping by my blog even though I haven't been visiting you for some time now...it means alot to me. &lt;/span&gt;Send me alot of positive vibes and your love please :). &lt;strong&gt;Stay gold maties MWAH luv ya all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Hello&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Evanescence&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-4786196744566462539?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4786196744566462539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=4786196744566462539' title='66 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4786196744566462539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/4786196744566462539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/living-on-edge.html' title='Living On The Edge...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgpylaOkR3I/AAAAAAAAG-Q/tEa_ILbh0VQ/s72-c/flap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>66</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1379579825365905174</id><published>2009-05-08T15:14:00.068+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-08T16:43:04.811+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Read My Heart!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgO5nVc7f_I/AAAAAAAAG94/qx9a77Zaw_Y/s1600-h/wesak2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgO7IF4WzkI/AAAAAAAAG-A/EVsDDp5U5H0/s1600-h/wesak2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333312131428699714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgO7IF4WzkI/AAAAAAAAG-A/EVsDDp5U5H0/s320/wesak2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's Vesak! &lt;strong&gt;Vesak encompasses the&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Birth, Enlightenment&lt;/strong&gt; (Nirvana), &lt;strong&gt;and Passing&lt;/strong&gt; (Parinirvana)&lt;strong&gt; of Gautama Buddha.&lt;/strong&gt; In my childhood days, I used to make Vesak lanterns like this one with my cousins and friends, and hang them around our house during the Vesak period. It made me very happy. The light that resonates through the Vesak lanterns lit my heart up. It was such a joy and I still love them so very much. The significance of Vesak always played an important part in my life...the birth, enlightenment and the death of the Buddha is very similar to anyone's life. We are all born, we all LEARN something or the other, and then we all die some day. Although not everyone can be a Buddha, I believe each one of us learns something 'significant', to the best of our abilities during our lives. &lt;strong&gt;I just wanna wish you all a very happy Vesak!&lt;/strong&gt; May your hearts light up with love and may your lives stay 'enlightened' always!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgPApb1hDmI/AAAAAAAAG-I/u1sHqfpKpCs/s1600-h/wesak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333318201816190562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgPApb1hDmI/AAAAAAAAG-I/u1sHqfpKpCs/s320/wesak.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Also, there's something I need to tell a Sri Lankan blogger who visits my blog regularly (yes I can trace the time you spend here, and your IP and what-nots), and then goes back to his blog and writes abusive things about me. You know who you are. So, on this Vesak day, I'd like to tell you that &lt;strong&gt;freedom of speech doesn't mean freedom of abuse&lt;/strong&gt;. There's a slight but very sharp difference. I don't know you. You don't know me. But I've been watching you over the years in total silence, how you just pick random people at your own will and abuse them in your blog. It's not very cool btw. Today is the day I wish to break the silence for your own good. I hope you just live and let live. If not, I have about 500 very smart blog friends here from all over the world, that I could bring over to your blog, so they can read your 'wonderful' posts about me and perhaps give you 'suggestions' on how to be a better blogger. One who doesn't trespass on others? Not a threat here, just a good ol' solution to people who seem to need some help with 'sensible' blogging&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Words don't get to me. They are mere words. Just cos someone abuses me using harsh words, that doesnt mean I am any of that. When someone abuses you, it is usually a cry for help and I aint gonna lick anyone's wounds. I will keep silent. The one who refuses to cop any abuse and does that in total silence, is the wisest of all.&lt;/strong&gt; I just want you to realise how much damage you're doing to yourself by abusing people this way...people you don't even know (it baffles me that anyone would really wanna do that...such people must live empty lives). Now sharpen up and good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-55.slide.com/widgets/themepic.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=3314649325761863509&amp;amp;site=widget-55.slide.com" wmode="transparent" salign="l" scale="noscale" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div style="WIDTH: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3314649325761863509&amp;amp;map=A" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3314649325761863509&amp;amp;map=B" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3314649325761863509&amp;amp;map=G" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-55.slide.com/z4/3314649325761863509/bb_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to materialistic things now. Take a good look at this pic. It was taken 2 days ago. Well I'm going to give you a list of possible things that I may be wishing for behind that 'look' on my face. All you've got to do is guess the right answer. Kapish? Let's see how many of you can read my HEART or how many of you are good psychologists or clairvoyants, whatever it is! :) Good luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What do I want from Genie right now? &lt;strong&gt;What am I thinking of right now?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;1. Wedding plans with Diego &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*whopppa!!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Brief getaway in Europe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;3. Making a Vesak lantern &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*and shoving it over someone's head!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. Buying a brandnew unit of my own&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;5. Hoping some people would get a life, if not some therapy!&lt;br /&gt;6. New shoes Keshi new shoes yes yes yes! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*orgasmic yes!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;7. Going to Hollywood and trying my best to become the next Penelope Cruz!&lt;br /&gt;8. Breaking into Diego's house at night!&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *there's a reason for choosing NIGHT btw lol!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;9. Enrolling for a Spanish degree at Uni &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*como estas Amigas? right now I'm only a Google dependent Spaniard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Saying yes to a hot Aussie bloke who asked me out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There could&lt;strong&gt; only be 1 answer&lt;/strong&gt; for this pic. So go ahead, have fun guessing. btw I'm yet to come around to your blogs..I have been pretty slack lately, sorry, too busy at work. Will do so as soon as I get some time ok. Thanks for being so patient with me. And please continue to pray for &lt;strong&gt;Ne&lt;/strong&gt; (re: my last post). And hey have a good weekend all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Genie &lt;/strong&gt;by&lt;strong&gt; Christina Aguilera&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8476566-1379579825365905174?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1379579825365905174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1379579825365905174' title='75 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1379579825365905174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1379579825365905174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/read-my-heart.html' title='Read My &lt;em&gt;Heart&lt;/em&gt;!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgO7IF4WzkI/AAAAAAAAG-A/EVsDDp5U5H0/s72-c/wesak2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>75</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-2868708446254505782</id><published>2009-05-07T12:17:00.047+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-07T13:37:47.917+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Iranam Pavasa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJFIy4WvPI/AAAAAAAAG9I/HdCRpNdxGGI/s1600-h/fd2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJHPg3UxkI/AAAAAAAAG9Q/OUY2P9dZqR0/s1600-h/fath2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332903240605681218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJHPg3UxkI/AAAAAAAAG9Q/OUY2P9dZqR0/s320/fath2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you know what the title means? It's in Sinhalese and it means &lt;strong&gt;'Destiny's Thirst'&lt;/strong&gt;. Have you ever loved someone so much that parting with them took away a huge chunk of you with it? I have. That's why I feel I'm qualified to write this post, with the huge hole in my heart that gives me the strength to pen down my feelings exactly the way they are. &lt;strong&gt;My writing here are the ashes that are left from the fire that burnt my heart and left it with forever-scars. &lt;/strong&gt;The ink that I write with are the feelings that I feel. I wasn't sure if I should write this post today but it dawned upon me that I should write it when my feelings are raw. So here I am. We have loved-ones that we'd like to live with forever but even a Love that strong cannot win with Destiny. Cos if I could redesign my Destiny, I'd have the people I want in my life right now. But some things are just not meant to be. And life has to go on...at the hands of Destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJIsX12AVI/AAAAAAAAG9Y/4rM4iolYsac/s1600-h/fath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332904835911385426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJIsX12AVI/AAAAAAAAG9Y/4rM4iolYsac/s320/fath.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You went towards your Destiny...you were called by it...you had to go...&lt;strong&gt;you just had to quench Destiny's Thirst didnt you?&lt;/strong&gt; No, you didn't want to leave me...no, you never thought you would. But can we stop getting thirsty? Can we stop getting hungry? Even we can't. We had our plans and while we were busy making plans, Fate had it's own plans for us. And you went towards it when all I could do was stand here, watching you go. You just had to quench the thirst of Destiny, but you left me parched and starving for you til the end of time. But what am I in the face of Destiny? &lt;strong&gt;What is my thirst compared to the thirst of Destiny?&lt;/strong&gt; I cannot make you stay, I don't have the power to change your Destiny, I don't have a magic wand to grant me all my wishes...so I watched you go...so I cried as I stood helpless, &lt;strong&gt;letting you fulfill your Destiny...letting your Destiny change my life, and making me go towards my own Destiny.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJKmSN07bI/AAAAAAAAG9w/UsMMmSCMUjM/s1600-h/gl1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332906930345405874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJKmSN07bI/AAAAAAAAG9w/UsMMmSCMUjM/s320/gl1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This post is dedicated to my darling friend &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://yousaytomatoisaytomahto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nehya&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; who lost her dearest dad 2 days ago.&lt;/strong&gt; I love you hunny and please know that I'm thinking of you and I know exactly how you feel right now. Fathers when they leave, we are left with a thirst that will never be quenched. I have never met your dad in person but I can quite confidently say I have 'met' him...how? Through you. You're a beautiful person, in and out, and there's no doubt that your parents are equally lovely people. They have raised you so well and I can tell that your dad brought me to you, hence himself through you. I love what I saw in you, and I say THANKS to your dad for the preciousness he engraved in you. He's a gentleman and a truly genuine soul, I respect him alot. I know nothing I say right now can comfort the huge loss you're dealing with. So all I want you to know is that I'm here for you. It's a long road ahead Ne...but you will come to terms with it and you will learn to live with it one day. Just know that ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *HUGZ*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJI85-k05I/AAAAAAAAG9g/oqedIcfg4cM/s1600-h/ch1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJKQjd3jUI/AAAAAAAAG9o/rT8dUsRukkU/s1600-h/ch2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332906557018967362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJKQjd3jUI/AAAAAAAAG9o/rT8dUsRukkU/s320/ch2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This song is one of my fav Sinhalese songs, from an old movie called 'Ganga Addara' (it means, &lt;strong&gt;by the river&lt;/strong&gt;) that I watched with my dearest dad long time ago. I was only a little girl then. I remember holding my dad's hand, walking with him, asking him silly questions, watching his wide smile, hearing his deep but gentle voice...getting a lil scared when he scolded me. I &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJI85-k05I/AAAAAAAAG9g/oqedIcfg4cM/s1600-h/ch1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;remember his face...I remember his love. &lt;strong&gt;I remember the day he went towards his Destiny..how his Destiny's thirst cost me my best mate ever...also, how it all gained me a strength and courage like never before.&lt;/strong&gt; This song takes me to a distant past...a faraway place...to a beautiful time...to a memorable face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;oba ruva chaaya...sanga we paaya... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(images of you, come to the surface, and then hide away...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Ganga Addara&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Vijaya Kumaratunga&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-2868708446254505782?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2868708446254505782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=2868708446254505782' title='82 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2868708446254505782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2868708446254505782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/iranam-pavasa.html' title='Iranam Pavasa...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SgJHPg3UxkI/AAAAAAAAG9Q/OUY2P9dZqR0/s72-c/fath2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>82</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-277470496520172756</id><published>2009-05-05T15:05:00.066+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-05T17:19:00.867+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Te Queiro Diego!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_UCaqykzI/AAAAAAAAG8o/Z8yI0W7MJ4o/s1600-h/caflips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332213621813580594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_UCaqykzI/AAAAAAAAG8o/Z8yI0W7MJ4o/s320/caflips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes I know this wont last. I know it's only a silly crush. I know suddenly something is so not Keshi-like. I know this isnt me. I know this feeling is not forever to stay. I know, I know. But let me tell you about the 'source' of this sweet feeling that doesn't come to us so often. Forever it may not last, but I'm indulging in it while it lasts. And it started at a cafe, with a coffee&lt;strong&gt; 'machine'&lt;/strong&gt; made in Colombia...read on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hot Colombian guy has landed in my regular coffee shop as the new coffee-maker since last week. OMG! And he's soooooo hot, body and soul. At first sight, I thought he's Ricky Martin's brother, yes he looks so much like him! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;gay jokes plz*. &lt;/span&gt;He looks so good...great face, hot &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_QHyhDW9I/AAAAAAAAG8g/mZCs52sWg6s/s1600-h/rickz.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332209316068023250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_QHyhDW9I/AAAAAAAAG8g/mZCs52sWg6s/s320/rickz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;dark hair, superb physique and a warm smile &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*as warm as the coffee is!*&lt;/span&gt;. Why do Spanish dudes look ultra hot and also know just how to talk to women? If it's a typical Sri Lankan guy, the first thing he'll ask me is if I'm married &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*rolling eyes...broken record sounds follow...*&lt;/span&gt;. But this dude had me in total trauma &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*good trauma*&lt;/span&gt; the moment I saw him and I was like &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'omg did God finally hear my prayers from his drunken state of mind that has lasted too long actually'&lt;/span&gt;. Ok alright, calm down Keshi, he's only a new guy in your coffee shop, and he's good-looking, so what? I'll tell ya what. On the first day, he made me coffee that tasted like coffee-made-in-heaven &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no I haven't been to heaven so stop laughing plz*&lt;/span&gt;. LOL no I'm not just saying that cos I kinda have a crush on him...I'm saying that cos he really did make good coffee. He goes &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'I a make a you a goood cawfee oki?'&lt;/span&gt; in his rather flamboyant Spanish accent and all I could do was smile in a shy manner &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*why was I doing that? wake up you lovelorn dingbat! you failed me Keshi*&lt;/span&gt;. And then I realised that he was right...the 'cawfee' was indeed really gooooood :). And yesterday when I so anxiously hit the coffee shop, he was not there damn! :( &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I felt like a stupid teenager looking forward to see her crush and becoming suicidal over not seeing him!*&lt;/span&gt;. And then I realised he doesnt work on Mondays &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I noted it down in my mental diary..yeah I'm kinda becoming stalkerish, forgive me for that!*&lt;/span&gt;. Today, he was there OMG! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I was feeling dizzy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;when I saw him*&lt;/span&gt;. And then it dawned upon me that he's not only a great coffee&lt;strong&gt; 'machine'&lt;/strong&gt;, but also a massive flirt! Cos he had this charming, flirtish, hubba-hubba kinda smile on his face as he made my coffee. And then, without my permission from myself, I blurted out &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'you don't work on Mondays do u?'&lt;/span&gt;. I was in shock that I actually asked him that! Desperate moment I guess. And then he smilingly asked me &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'whaay, doo you miss me on Mondis?'&lt;/span&gt; in his cute Spanish accent and &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_WUNMMX7I/AAAAAAAAG84/DpiawQ3BX-c/s1600-h/cafs.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332216126456487858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_WUNMMX7I/AAAAAAAAG84/DpiawQ3BX-c/s320/cafs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;donned a very flirtish smirk. That's it! I was in cloud 9 and was thinking maybe God came in this Colombian avatar just to spice up my nerdy love life &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*he's doing a great job btw cos atleast &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_VoNWst6I/AAAAAAAAG8w/EdSfX1JWOOA/s1600-h/cof1.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;he's not preachy-with-no-action in this avatar*&lt;/span&gt;. I replied &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'ehhh yes, no! I miss your good coffee though'&lt;/span&gt; and smiled embarassingly. And he goes &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'thank yooo, u shoood tell that to maii bosse next taimme'&lt;/span&gt;. I said I will...cmon I'd love to help him get a pay rise or a permanent position. So I made that an excuse and asked him what his name is HAHA! And his name is &lt;strong&gt;Diego!&lt;/strong&gt; Suddenly I wanna go to San Diego &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*no, it has no connection to Colombia, incase you're wondering*&lt;/span&gt;. One of my friends heard about him from me, and now she wants a pic of Diego. Do you think I can take a pic of him without getting arrested? No I never did this kinda thing in my life neither do I wanna give it a shot at being on the newspaper for harassing a coffee maker with my mobile phone camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_WnpZqRvI/AAAAAAAAG9A/U3R2oPH1OUI/s1600-h/cafs1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332216460446680818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_WnpZqRvI/AAAAAAAAG9A/U3R2oPH1OUI/s320/cafs1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now I look forward to coming to work more than ever before &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*wake up early and all*&lt;/span&gt;. o cmon I'm not so despo, but I could do with just a lil harmless flirting in my life, what do you say? Apparently, it's good for your health...my gym instructor said so ;-). &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*lo and behold he's right!*&lt;/span&gt; I don't need no Calcium and I don't need no Jogging to keep me fit.&lt;strong&gt; A Mocha with 1 sugar and extra 'Diego' will do! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*well atleast right now it will*&lt;/span&gt;. Jealous girls? ;-) I just hope I don't go there tomorrow morning and say &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'mocha mocha mocha mocha mocha suga suga suga suga suga mocha diego plz!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Lo siento, estoy enamorado con ti-go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Volveras&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Ricky Martin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-277470496520172756?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/277470496520172756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=277470496520172756' title='139 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/277470496520172756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/277470496520172756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/te-queiro-diego.html' title='Te Queiro Diego!'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf_UCaqykzI/AAAAAAAAG8o/Z8yI0W7MJ4o/s72-c/caflips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>139</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1949817128864767321</id><published>2009-05-04T17:03:00.060+10:30</published><updated>2009-05-04T18:20:02.111+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Broken Beyond Breaking...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf6MWTIU3dI/AAAAAAAAG8Y/6hjXCn70t-c/s1600-h/ballerina.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331853323573452242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf6MWTIU3dI/AAAAAAAAG8Y/6hjXCn70t-c/s320/ballerina.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last night I couldn't sleep...the insomniac in me decided to pay me a visit and I was wide awake while everyone in town was fast asleep. My mind wandered, wandered to the distant past when I slept in peace, without a care...a child with happy dreams and a world waiting to unravel before me. What have I become? Over the years, I have turned into a restless, sleep-deprived, hopeless junkie of some sorts. Now I wanna run away from that same world I so anticipated. Something is eating me alive. And I don't know what it is. Maybe I lost my way. Maybe I have become immune to what most people call building a future or living a 'normal' life is. I don't follow the norm anyways. yeah I'm an abnormal girl..some kind of beast that the 'normal' crowd won't appreciate. Not that I care anyways. I don't know what I'm waiting for. Neither do I know what keeps me going somehow. Sometimes I feel this is all a bore, a pseudo drama that needs to be staged in order to get by...to be equal...to be accepted. But why do I even have to get by? Who am I trying to impress? Why do I even have to? I put my iPod on and the first song it played was 'Dumb' by Nirvana. Yes! At that moment I was feeling pretty dumb...pretty ridiculous...pretty useless...pretty small. What am I? No wait, what the hell am I? haaaaaha! It's all such a joke and all the people are playing a dumb game. Isn't life rather funny? The things we do, the way we take the smallest of things and put them on a pedestal and worship them. The way we spend a lifetime chasing something that may not matter at all in the end. The way we give importance to the silliest of things that somehow keeps us hooked at the cost of other things. The way we pretend, the way we just float, the way we walk around in pieces. I saw myself trying to piece together a million shattered pieces of me. And I also saw myself being afraid of breaking again. &lt;strong&gt;You cannot break something that's already broken, can you?  &lt;/strong&gt;I laughed at myself. Then I fell asleep.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;~~Skin the sun&lt;br /&gt;Fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Wish away&lt;br /&gt;soul is cheap...&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learned&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck&lt;br /&gt;Soothe the burn&lt;br /&gt;Wake me up~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Dumb&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Nirvana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1949817128864767321?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1949817128864767321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1949817128864767321' title='101 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1949817128864767321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1949817128864767321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/broken-beyond-breaking.html' title='Broken Beyond Breaking...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sf6MWTIU3dI/AAAAAAAAG8Y/6hjXCn70t-c/s72-c/ballerina.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>101</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-2582535436554765361</id><published>2009-04-30T16:29:00.013+10:30</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:40:55.216+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Storybook You vs The Real You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwPhyESsI/AAAAAAAAG7A/PLPsaSi7kJI/s1600-h/im2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In My Imagination...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk1kM31UOI/AAAAAAAAG8A/7BOcHS6PnfY/s1600-h/leo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330350530016661730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk1kM31UOI/AAAAAAAAG8A/7BOcHS6PnfY/s320/leo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Have you ever done something that is quite the opposite of what you believed you would do? I have. I'm sure most people would have done something totally different to what they imagined. How many times would you have advised a friend when they needed some guidance, but failed to follow the same advice when you were in their shoes? We all say or believe that we are so and so, but often do the contrary. &lt;strong&gt;We say one thing, but we behave in a totally different manner when we are being put through the real test of life.&lt;/strong&gt; Here are some random examples: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwbHSdcCI/AAAAAAAAG7I/K_o-tq2uzrY/s1600-h/im4.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330344876340768802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwbHSdcCI/AAAAAAAAG7I/K_o-tq2uzrY/s320/im4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;You do a tag in your blog that requires you to answer the question &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'What are the best qualities about you?'&lt;/span&gt;. And you say something like&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; 'I'm very forgiving, I have a big heart etc'&lt;/span&gt;. Now imagine in real life you have a tiff with one of your mates. And now you can't seem to forgive or forget...you find yourself keeping that anger in you for months and months, vowing yourself never to speak to that person again, dismissing their presence and attemtps to patch up with you. Suddenly your so-called big heart is nowhere to be found. So what exactly are you doing now? The exact contrary of what you claimed yourself to be. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*think about it, who you believe you are is not always who you are*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkyTXDyYmI/AAAAAAAAG7o/2QSTBtvrlIY/s1600-h/ss1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330346942158496354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 197px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkyTXDyYmI/AAAAAAAAG7o/2QSTBtvrlIY/s320/ss1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;You may claim you love your parents alot, but when your mum asks you how your day was, you say &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;'I'm tired mum'&lt;/span&gt; and you just go into your room, turn your PC on and chat with your net friends, while your mum sits alone outside and watches TV. If you really love someone, then you wouldn't take them for granted. So you said one thing about loving someone, but you are doing something totally different when it comes to acting upon those words. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*careful, what you say is not what you always carry out*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwoURFCzI/AAAAAAAAG7Y/sCx5uBAKdmY/s1600-h/gp1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330345103162936114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwoURFCzI/AAAAAAAAG7Y/sCx5uBAKdmY/s320/gp1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;Let's say you are someone who hate being rejected and that you believe in treating everyone with respect. But imagine that you continuously reject a person for some reason. You think you are way too cool to associate this person and you disregard them intentionally...or you act as if they don't exist. So what are you doing now? Quite the opposite of how you want to be treated or what you claim your values are. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*watch out, how you like to be treated is not how you always treat others*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*&lt;/strong&gt;How about terrorists? They say they want freedom, independence etc etc. But when they are out on a deadly mission, they are robbing innocent people of that same freedom and their lives too. So they believe in one thing but do the contrary. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*update&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; your memory, what you want from life is not what you always give out to others*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkwvcjjriI/AAAAAAAAG7g/oQt1DvuXksM/s1600-h/im2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkyaWt4dYI/AAAAAAAAG7w/bCpcjTDV9-k/s1600-h/mir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330347062325704066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfkyaWt4dYI/AAAAAAAAG7w/bCpcjTDV9-k/s320/mir.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*Imagine at some stage you believed that you are hopeless, or that you were not as great as some others were. But now you see those same people you thought so high of behaving in ways that you'd not have even imagined. After all, you're not as bad as you thought you were. Infact, you are way better than those very people that you so admired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*beware, what you see is not what you always get*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Candy House...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk9o8sXuaI/AAAAAAAAG8I/WhH29ie3IH8/s1600-h/hans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330359407665985954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk9o8sXuaI/AAAAAAAAG8I/WhH29ie3IH8/s320/hans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm not saying that we should all aim at being Saints...we can't. We are human and we are prone to making mistakes, we are prone to saying one thing but sometimes doing a different thing altogether. But, what we have to keep in mind is that &lt;strong&gt;who we believe we are and who we really are, are 2 different things&lt;/strong&gt;. It would be good if they're both the same thing, but only very few people are like that...only a handful of people in this world really stick to their words, values and beliefs when it comes to their actions too. And only a very few people admit it when they screw up. The rest are living in denial. Trust me I have come across enough people like that in my life to write this post in total confidence.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paper Flowers...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfkwh5T6hsI/AAAAAAAAG7Q/EvQlPGFaim4/s1600-h/pp2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330344992847857346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfkwh5T6hsI/AAAAAAAAG7Q/EvQlPGFaim4/s320/pp2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The best person to ask who you really are in comparison to what you believe you are, is not yourself. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Ask a friend you have judged, ask your family, ask a total stranger you just met, ask someone you hurt intentionally, go back to your diary or tag-posts and read what you wrote about yourself...all those beautiful things about you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ask anyone but yourself.&lt;/strong&gt; Cos we always believe we are clean but we are very quick to judge others. Sadly, what you prefer to be is not always what you are to others. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It's great to have a set of values and claim that you follow those values in real, but if others around you don't see your actions matching your words, then it's high time to wake up to the real you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Living inside a Storybook can take it's toll on Reality some day in your life.&lt;/strong&gt; btw this post is not just for the readers, it's also for me...yes I admit I have strayed and hurt people too, much to my surprise, but atleast I admit it. At the same time, I have come across people who have shocked me and have totally contradicted what they claimed to be. In a way it's a blessing to know who they really are, so that I don't look upto such people again or live in the false hope of them ever proving me wrong. &lt;strong&gt;The one kind of people I cannot stand are hypocrites. &lt;/strong&gt;It also makes me realise I'm way better than some self-proclaimed saints, philosophers, professors and beauties who take others for a ride and live oblivious to the fact they are really fooling themselves.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Living The Story...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk0L9-4C4I/AAAAAAAAG74/YwQDSBJNzZg/s1600-h/shad1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk_AOQ-uEI/AAAAAAAAG8Q/7VyzBthKzPM/s1600-h/cherry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330360907031558210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk_AOQ-uEI/AAAAAAAAG8Q/7VyzBthKzPM/s320/cherry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you practise what you preach? Do you treat others the way you wanted to be treated? You may believe you're at the mountain peak but the real you could be somewhere at the very bottom, lagging behind. It could also be the other way around...you may see yourself as someone way behind compared to others, but you could infact be someone right at the top and ahead of others. &lt;strong&gt;The Storybook You and the Real You need to be reconciled&lt;/strong&gt;...then you'd know yourself well enough not to fool yourself.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Who we really are does not live in our academic qualifications or our certificates or our job titles or our assets...who we really are live in those small gestures, those simple deeds and those things that we say and do to others in our day to day lives.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Are you really who you believe you are? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk0L9-4C4I/AAAAAAAAG74/YwQDSBJNzZg/s1600-h/shad1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Imaginary&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Evanescence&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-2582535436554765361?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2582535436554765361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=2582535436554765361' title='132 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2582535436554765361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/2582535436554765361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/storybook-you-vs-real-you.html' title='The &lt;em&gt;Storybook &lt;/em&gt;You vs The &lt;em&gt;Real &lt;/em&gt;You'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sfk1kM31UOI/AAAAAAAAG8A/7BOcHS6PnfY/s72-c/leo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>132</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-1207116026182793042</id><published>2009-04-28T13:04:00.089+10:30</published><updated>2009-04-29T10:28:50.191+10:30</updated><title type='text'>After The Aphrodisia...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;From Sexy...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaJlLL4OaI/AAAAAAAAG6A/fpTMbFWg6pk/s1600-h/nc2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329598480790337954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaJlLL4OaI/AAAAAAAAG6A/fpTMbFWg6pk/s320/nc2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was at a friend's birthday party on Sat night. It was celebrated at a popular night-club in the City, by the harbourside. So we all glammed up &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I wore THE lil black cocktail dress*&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;I looked and felt like a doll.&lt;/strong&gt; We drove to the City, had an exotic Japanese dinner &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*that left me starving due to the rather poor quantity served in so called gourmet restaurants, at a price that can almost buy you food for the whole year!*&lt;/span&gt; And then we arrived at the night-club at around 10:30pm &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yes that's when night-life starts to warm up on a Sat night*&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The highlight of that night:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;THE SECURITY AT THE ENTRANCE ASKED FOR MY ID TO PROVE MY AGE! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*woot woot*&lt;/span&gt;They didn't ask my 2 other friends' IDs but just mine and another friend's only. Being thought of as an under-18, at this somewhat 'prehistoric' age of mine &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;lol*&lt;/span&gt; is such a compliment you see :). There was a massive crowd inside already since it was also&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;ANZAC Day on Sat here in Aus, and hey the DJ was a hoot! Absoloutely great music with a great spin of old and new songs, that got us in the dance mood and made us all enjoy the night to the fullest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPNx_iqNI/AAAAAAAAG6Y/i_aUoh_XPUY/s1600-h/hnd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329604675960482002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPNx_iqNI/AAAAAAAAG6Y/i_aUoh_XPUY/s320/hnd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't do Clubbing all that much. If there's a party that I'm invited to, or if friends ask me to join them once in a while, I go. If not, Clubbing is not my thing. It's an occasional escape that I don't mind indulging in though...it's a temporary getaway from my own world that does give some relaxation of a different kind. Even during my Uni days, when all my mates went out clubbing, I was at home listening to Beatles&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*told ya I was a nerd*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. But on that rare occasion when I do hit a club, women in sultry outfits, men having a good time, everyone shaking their booties to hot dance numbers, cheeky glances from total strangers, Vodka and orange making me forget the blues&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*atleast for a good couple of hours*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;does feel like it's not a bad thing at all, for a change that is. After all, everything in life is temporary...but with lasting effects.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; with dementing effects!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaL5k3YjOI/AAAAAAAAG6I/bRRC3y0Chj0/s1600-h/dance1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329601030304337122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaL5k3YjOI/AAAAAAAAG6I/bRRC3y0Chj0/s320/dance1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So on that night, we were all having a good time, sipping our drinks, chatting, observing, dancing, going back for another round of drinks etc &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*although I don't drink much cos my rather sensitive system usually goes super tipsy at drink #4*&lt;/span&gt;. I stopped at drink #2 that night just so that I don't end up with a deadly headache and a violent puking session that might cost me my carpet! I'm quite a sensible girl when it comes to drinking &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*read about the one time I tested my max drinking capabilities &lt;a href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;amp;postID=2052119918223512237"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, that almost had me shaking hands with Freddie Mercury, in heaven ofcourse!*&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaRhX-Bh1I/AAAAAAAAG6w/WskEqp7X2zc/s1600-h/greek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329607211595433810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaRhX-Bh1I/AAAAAAAAG6w/WskEqp7X2zc/s320/greek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That night, a cute Greek guy came over to us, started a casual convo about work etc and wanted to MARRY me that night itself...what a dumbass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*At this stage I was picturing a big fat Greek wedding with countless Greek delicacies that made me gain weight in a split second and split my wedding dress into 2 halves, infront of all the guests making me feel like Big Momma in a huge Greek tragedy of Baklavas!*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The guy was just having some harmless fun, and we girls were laughing away at his silly suggestion. His reason for that rather 'notorious' proposal was he wanted us to become millionaires overnight, with the IT and Finance skills that we both possessed. Yeah right mate, you don't know who Keshi is...both Marriage and Money are boring 'suggestions' to her you doofus! Suggest something else please and I will consider ok? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*btw I hope you meet either Jennifer Aniston or Paris Hiltion some day soon!*.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Anyways, he was good company and had us all entertained for a little while, and then he bid goodbye and disappeared into a crowd of scantily clad women and blurry-eyed men. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;To Trainwreck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaNYdyKNOI/AAAAAAAAG6Q/3dDB-9oeWTg/s1600-h/drink2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At 2:00am we remembered that there was something called 'home' waiting for us to return, &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaNYdyKNOI/AAAAAAAAG6Q/3dDB-9oeWTg/s1600-h/drink2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;so we hit the road. The next morning, I woke up with a hangover as big as Africa, and as annoying as Perez Hilton times 2! I woke up at &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPpkY1j-I/AAAAAAAAG6g/NNgvQPgEDn8/s1600-h/hang2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329605153344819170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPpkY1j-I/AAAAAAAAG6g/NNgvQPgEDn8/s320/hang2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;10am and walked around the kitchen feeling like a zombie that had no idea where the coffee was...my head was hurting, my eyes were red due to lack of sleep &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*trust me I value my beauty sleep!*&lt;/span&gt;, my face was flushed and my skin felt hot. Although I only had 2 drinks that night, partying til 2am and loud music had taken the toll on my poor sensitive system. &lt;strong&gt;I looked and felt like a trainwreck&lt;/strong&gt;. I wasnt pretty or sexy anymore...it was a rather rehab-requiring sight of me lol! Imagine what would happen to people who go out clubbing and drinking every night or so? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*there are heaps of people who love the night-life and do it on a regular basis*.&lt;/span&gt; I don't know how they do it, seriously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most things in life are, the goodness, the fun and the ecstasy of that night was gone the next morning. All I was left with now was a hangover that made me feel like I was gonna die any minute &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*I was imagining my funeral and I wanted to glam up for that too!*&lt;/span&gt;. My makeup was gone, my hair now looked like a bird's nest, &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPzLuwh7I/AAAAAAAAG6o/kA9xS1HjpVU/s1600-h/cat3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329605318524569522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaPzLuwh7I/AAAAAAAAG6o/kA9xS1HjpVU/s320/cat3.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my head was spinning like a washing machine, loud music and dancing was the last thing on my mind, my body was burning as if to catch fire, my pretty black dress was in the laundry, waiting to get it's 'vigor' back. So, I made myself some toast and black coffee, sat infront of my PC but couldn't move a finger! I think I was pushing myself to do usual things that I wasn't capable of doing that morning...I badly wanted myself back again...just like how the black dress waited to get it's life again. I thought to myself then, maybe I should hit the Laundry too...is there a human laundry? LOL! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moral of the story: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After&lt;/strong&gt; every experience in life, comes the real &lt;strong&gt;effects&lt;/strong&gt; of those experiences.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;quality &lt;/strong&gt;of something that you do today, is often &lt;strong&gt;felt&lt;/strong&gt; tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt; Though I enjoyed the party and we made happy memories that night, the effects of alcohol, late night, loud music, the huge crowd etc wasn't all that great on my body and soul. And if I am someone who did Clubbing every night &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*depriving me of my sleep and health*&lt;/span&gt;, no Security will ask for my ID ever again! &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; I will age overnight and the only thing they might ask me is if I needed a doctors' appointment and that I've come to the wrong place!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaXsVC6sTI/AAAAAAAAG64/xBTlivC96mg/s1600-h/wom33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329613996858978610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaXsVC6sTI/AAAAAAAAG64/xBTlivC96mg/s320/wom33.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The hangover in the morning was nothing like the ecstasy the night before.&lt;strong&gt; What at first sight looks glam, gloss and exciting may prove to leave you with 'punishing effects &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;later on.&lt;/strong&gt; Now that doesn't mean that all people who go to such places think the same way as I do or have the same effects as me, or that I stop going to such places either...cos I believe you have to be in all kinds of places with all kinds of people to know what's out there.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I've been on both sides to know the difference, and I've worked out that different people find different 'avenues' to forget their blues, to unwind, to have fun, to 'live'. And just because those avenues are different to mine, it doesn't mean I'm right and they are wrong. To each his own. This post is just my opinion about clubbing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After the Aphrodisia comes body-aches, dark circles and a whole lot of 'baggage'!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Any comments? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Buttons&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Pussycat Dolls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Current Music Update: &lt;strong&gt;Be My Lover&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;La Bouche&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-1207116026182793042?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1207116026182793042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=1207116026182793042' title='144 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1207116026182793042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/1207116026182793042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/after-aphrodisia.html' title='After The Aphrodisia...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfaJlLL4OaI/AAAAAAAAG6A/fpTMbFWg6pk/s72-c/nc2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>144</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-3290488780530491074</id><published>2009-04-23T13:19:00.088+10:30</published><updated>2009-04-24T10:22:56.168+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Silhouettes Of You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I remember...I remember more than I've witnessed. I've witnessed...I've witnessed more than I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to forget...I'd like to forget more than I can erase. I've erased...I've erased more than I'd like to forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADlJkizlI/AAAAAAAAG5Y/KlZl4z9GM1c/s1600-h/pama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327762295938534994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADlJkizlI/AAAAAAAAG5Y/KlZl4z9GM1c/s320/pama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We humans have very short memories. We tend to forget very quickly. As much as we cared about the September 11th, Mumbai Attacks and the Tsunami and it's victims back then, we hardly talk about it anymore. Cos we have moved on. Cos we have new things in our lives to remember or worry about. It's human nature. But how about that certain someone who was there for you when no one was around? What about the first friend you made online? Do you still remember a kind deed by a total stranger? What about your granma? Do you remember how she made you your favorite food? Do you still have fond memories of your first story book? &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADbBO0COI/AAAAAAAAG5I/LXnDI-gbbwA/s1600-h/sil1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you still think about the people you once wanted in your life but don't want anymore? How about your first day at work or Uni? Do you remember how you felt? Or &lt;strong&gt;have you under the notion of 'moving on', totally forgotten those simple &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;yet important people, moments, events, experiences, things that made you the person that you are today?&lt;/strong&gt; Have you really forgotten them or do &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfAJmnvuJkI/AAAAAAAAG5o/NhSZawo6j0o/s1600-h/fun.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;you prefer to live in denial? Sometimes all we want to do is fly...fly as high as we &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfALKkRTCGI/AAAAAAAAG54/cTbJ6_rULRY/s1600-h/friendssil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327770635342121058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfALKkRTCGI/AAAAAAAAG54/cTbJ6_rULRY/s320/friendssil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;can, forgetting fast who we used to be and those who once contributed to our existence. But soon we know we have to hit the ground and memories crash down on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I've covered a distance...I've covered a distance more than I could measure. I've measured...I've measured a distance more than I could cover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfAD_ohICBI/AAAAAAAAG5g/aLR8vg2hmZ0/s1600-h/SIL2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfAD_ohICBI/AAAAAAAAG5g/aLR8vg2hmZ0/s1600-h/SIL2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfAKdwwRAlI/AAAAAAAAG5w/Ri5gjPOR5h4/s1600-h/stand1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327769865599124050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfAKdwwRAlI/AAAAAAAAG5w/Ri5gjPOR5h4/s320/stand1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you remember? I do now...I remember me and us, I remember the sweet moments, the bitter ones, the guitar my father bought me when I was 5, the helping hand, the excitement when I bought my first car, the kind words, my granma's cakes, an old pair of purple shorts that I loved, that flight alone to Singapore when a stewardess gave me tissues cos I was crying, those giggles back in school, the tight slap, the precious vase that I accidentally dropped, my childhood smile, that argument, the truth, the lies, that long drive in the rain, those careless locks across my childhood friend's forehead, the $100 bill in my wallet, my granpa teasing me, when there was no money in my pocket to share, the times when someone was there for me, the times when no one was around, the long walk home after my dad was cremated, the stab in my heart, how I was given a NO, how he left, how I crumbled, how I stood up again, how I worked hard for that YES, my teenage tantrums, the thrill of receiving a prize from the President of SL, how I used to iron my school uniform every night, how I hate irons now, the sun on my face, how I waited for the tooth-fairy to give me a new tooth, the sound of the waves on the day he left, how I once screamed in anger, the pretty Lotus flowers in the temple, when I moved houses, those new shoes, the old ones in the bin, that kiss, how I accidentally ran infront of a speeding bus while my mum watched in horror, the touch of your cheeks, the smell of Gardenias from my aunt's garden, a beautiful spirit who was a &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADe2cInKI/AAAAAAAAG5Q/uF1G2TNHyVA/s1600-h/sil3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327762187723775138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADe2cInKI/AAAAAAAAG5Q/uF1G2TNHyVA/s320/sil3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;total stranger, the cowards, the heros, the tragedy, the triumph...&lt;strong&gt;how it all made me who I am.&lt;/strong&gt; I will take with me all the people, pieces and the lessons. &lt;strong&gt;I will never forget where I started. &lt;/strong&gt;Yes I remember you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-96.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=288230376172239254&amp;amp;site=widget-96.slide.com" wmode="transparent" salign="l" scale="noscale" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=288230376172239254&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=288230376172239254&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=288230376172239254&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-96.slide.com/p4/288230376172239254/bb_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what do you remember now from what you thought you had forgotten?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Sorrento Moon&lt;/strong&gt; (I remember) by &lt;strong&gt;Tina Arena&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&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/8476566-3290488780530491074?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3290488780530491074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=3290488780530491074' title='139 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3290488780530491074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/3290488780530491074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/silhouettes-of-you.html' title='Silhouettes Of You...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SfADlJkizlI/AAAAAAAAG5Y/KlZl4z9GM1c/s72-c/pama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>139</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-7803960617152816313</id><published>2009-04-20T13:07:00.095+10:30</published><updated>2009-04-20T15:21:00.510+10:30</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Over The Rainbow...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev8BjJuSbI/AAAAAAAAG44/wamVOZQlUMg/s1600-h/rainb4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326628087841835442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev8BjJuSbI/AAAAAAAAG44/wamVOZQlUMg/s320/rainb4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev2nsg-tZI/AAAAAAAAG4g/hC3PJDuvv50/s1600-h/rainb4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev1UT-V9eI/AAAAAAAAG4Q/0CwUUCccINM/s1600-h/rainbow.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Somewhere over the rainbow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Way up high,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a land that I heard of&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Once in a lullaby...&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere over the rainbow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Skies are blue,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the dreams that you dare to dream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Really do come true...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Rainbow In My Storm...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sevj2qZErDI/AAAAAAAAG4A/0CQ7fggh2KI/s1600-h/pg+(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326601512527637554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sevj2qZErDI/AAAAAAAAG4A/0CQ7fggh2KI/s320/pg+(4).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is a new 'certain someone' in my life. I don't know how or why she loves me so much &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*we'll get to that later on*&lt;/span&gt; but she has made it a point to visit me every single day, and it seems to be her top priority at the moment. Her name is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Snuggles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and she is owned by the manager of a different Company that is located some floors above our office floor. We are new to this building but eversince we came here, this little puggy princess spotted me, and now she just cannot stop visiting me! This is how her &lt;strong&gt;'visiting schedule'&lt;/strong&gt; is at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;10:30am: &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*scratch scratch!*&lt;/span&gt; on our office door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SevjsiEwKqI/AAAAAAAAG3w/90vXR0eC_YI/s1600-h/pg+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326601338496232098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SevjsiEwKqI/AAAAAAAAG3w/90vXR0eC_YI/s320/pg+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Someone opens the door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snuggles runs straight in, and comes straight to my cubicle&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; *passing all the handsome hunks* ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Snuggles sits under my desk or next to me and stares at me for a good couple of minutes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She talks to me in her own pugyy-n-puppy lingo and facial expressions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hangs around me &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*while I work*&lt;/span&gt; for as long as she wants to &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*max she's done so far is 30mins*...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sevj7sp4LqI/AAAAAAAAG4I/ob6SuEQwfJg/s1600-h/pg+(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326601599034338978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sevj7sp4LqI/AAAAAAAAG4I/ob6SuEQwfJg/s320/pg+(5).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And she realises she's come to the end of her daily 'Keshi' visit, and asks me to take her to the door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open the door for her, and she so wisely takes the Stairs, as the Elevator would be a lil confusing to her &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;cos she's not tall enough to select her floor number!*&lt;/span&gt; ...and off she goes back to her floor quite content, having received some stranger's LOVE for the day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So much lov&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e!&lt;/strong&gt; From such a tiny thing who can't even talk or think as much as we humans can. The sweet gesture from Snuggles has now made me look forward to coming to work even more than before :). Snuggles has touched me deeply &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;just as much as the lost dog who came to our house one day (remember &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dolly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; from this post:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/fruits-of-kindness.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fruits Of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/fruits-of-kindness.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Kindness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;). &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Even some &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SevjyPqfQsI/AAAAAAAAG34/XcQGYEoWNI0/s1600-h/pg+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326601436633449154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SevjyPqfQsI/AAAAAAAAG34/XcQGYEoWNI0/s320/pg+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;humans don't know how to express love...it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;needn't be in large scale or in the form of grand presents. &lt;/span&gt;Love is as simple a gesture as Snuggles paying me a visit to say Hello. Snuggles don't know who I am, where I come from, what I do, what kind of person I am but she knows one thing about me...that I reciprocated the love and kindness she has in her...that's how Love works...&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;you need to give love, to get love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;And Snuggles knows just how to do that. &lt;strong&gt;Snuggles taught me that you&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;can be the rainbow in someone else's stormy life, even if it's just for 2mins....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tears Can Usher You To Rainbows&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And now for those who has an interest in and &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev65IwdvTI/AAAAAAAAG4w/_FgvJaHTYJk/s1600-h/child1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326626843805990194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev65IwdvTI/AAAAAAAAG4w/_FgvJaHTYJk/s320/child1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;asked me about Baby Dee (recap &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-less-ordinary.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A Life Less Ordinary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;), well I received a letter from him just last week! It was the most beautiful letter from a kid that I have ever read. It touched me and made me realise how much joy we are all capable of giving to a total stranger who lives thousands of miles away and have never seen each other. He said he lives in a distant 'village' in SL, and his house is close to a beautiful river...he also stated that his house has 1 room and that he loves his mum and dad alot. The latter part of the letter comprised of gratitude for sponsoring him as my child, but I really wish he didn't write that...only cos I don't want to feel like I'm 'helping' him..I just want to do this just cos I can, and cos 'giving' is inherent in every humanbeing and I don't wish to do that expecting praise from anyone let alone a child. The ability to give is not something that's just in me only. It's in everyone. Anyways, I forgive him for saying that cos he's only a lil baby :). So, &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev1r2PtkDI/AAAAAAAAG4Y/pOyKQONc4t8/s1600-h/abc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326621117940338738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev1r2PtkDI/AAAAAAAAG4Y/pOyKQONc4t8/s320/abc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my weekend was spent shopping for few pressies for Baby Dee...I got him some stationary (crayons, pencils, sticker books, books etc) for him to use at school, and multi-colored balls &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*cos he likes playing with balls*.&lt;/span&gt; In this process, I realised that someone else is fast becoming a huge fan of Baby Dee and was giving me so many ideas on what to buy for him etc. Guess who that is? My mum ofcourse! :) I think she's very fond of him too and has become my greatest supporter in this humble journey. I also got him a beautiful card to write something back to him and will be sending it all later on this week. I hope he gets 'immense' joy out of the 'small' gifts that I'm sending him, cos every child in the world deserves to experience joy, not sorrow, no matter 'where or what' they were born into. &lt;strong&gt;There would be one less 'color' in the rainbow of your soul, if you can't feel a child's sorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev2qoOFD2I/AAAAAAAAG4o/o1caErUCIio/s1600-h/rainb5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326629320433603026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev9JS6gEdI/AAAAAAAAG5A/t0ijYh4f2fM/s320/rainb5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly&lt;br /&gt;Birds fly over the rainbow&lt;br /&gt;Why then oh, why can't I?&lt;br /&gt;If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow...&lt;br /&gt;Why, oh, why can't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ps: &lt;/strong&gt;This is one of my fav songs. Listen to this version of it and watch this video, it's amazing...brings your spirit to life. Thanks Buddhika &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*if you read this post some day*&lt;/span&gt; for finding this beautiful video for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Somewhere&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Over The Rainbow&lt;/strong&gt; by the late &lt;strong&gt;Israel&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Kamakawiwo'ole&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-7803960617152816313?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7803960617152816313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8476566&amp;postID=7803960617152816313' title='164 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7803960617152816313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8476566/posts/default/7803960617152816313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-been-over-rainbow.html' title='I&apos;ve Been &lt;em&gt;Over &lt;/em&gt;The Rainbow...'/><author><name>Keshi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17147250771662427208</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SdwngzLrNJI/AAAAAAAAG00/p13eZ7J6QiU/S220/flow1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Sev8BjJuSbI/AAAAAAAAG44/wamVOZQlUMg/s72-c/rainb4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>164</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8476566.post-5104977233650762153</id><published>2009-04-17T14:34:00.094+10:30</published><updated>2009-04-17T17:51:09.767+10:30</updated><title type='text'>The Mind That Matters...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING:&lt;/strong&gt; Please be respectful towards Ani Lhosang Dolma in your comments. Also, the latter part of this post ('An Epiphany' paragraph) may be distressing to some readers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SeggNUNz0uI/AAAAAAAAG3g/txcwBBhQnGU/s1600-h/meds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325541972502631138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SeggNUNz0uI/AAAAAAAAG3g/txcwBBhQnGU/s320/meds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you believe that whatever is inscripted in your mind by birth will somehow take shape some day? I do. As a Buddhist, I believe in Karma, Aatma, Rebirth and Moksha. In our lifelong quest for knowledge, spirituality and eternal peace some of us believe that we are in control of ourselves and our lives. Partly we may be, but I believe we are given an etched path to walk on, and we somehow have to walk it whether we like it or not. Hence the vast diversity of different life experiences by us all humanbeings. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here's a&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.asianpacificpost.com/portal2/402881820799fed201079b1a7be7005d.do.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; to prove that childhood visions/dreams may well be what you'll end up being some day...the path you have &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegDbD6hyjI/AAAAAAAAG3A/g6Vw3elGd-0/s1600-h/KohinoorSingh.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325510322807753266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegDbD6hyjI/AAAAAAAAG3A/g6Vw3elGd-0/s320/KohinoorSingh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;been given is what you'll end up walking somehow. This story is about a beautiful Nepali &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;model&lt;/span&gt; (Kohinoor Singh, now Ani Lhosang Dolma) who turned into a &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;monk&lt;/span&gt; . Some of you may have read &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;this story before. &lt;strong&gt;The most interesting aspect of her story is that it was a childhood revelation planted in her mind&lt;/strong&gt; (eversince she encountered a female-monk, demonstrating a calm and peaceful outlook)&lt;strong&gt; that revisited her later on in life, as her &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegDwYb2ylI/AAAAAAAAG3Q/2jyp3HNIBSo/s1600-h/kohinoorasaNUN200.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325510689093503570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegDwYb2ylI/AAAAAAAAG3Q/2jyp3HNIBSo/s320/kohinoorasaNUN200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ultimate destination.&lt;/strong&gt; And though this little girl grew up, forgot about that childhood vision and became a hot and popular model, that same vision came back to her not much later on and made a complete change in her life. Isn't that amazing! Doesn't that say that what you 'realised' as a kid can remain with you forever and some day materialise to be the reality of you? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the above 2 pics are of Kohinoor Singh, one when she was a model and the other after she became a monk).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Think about something that inspired you tremendously when you were a child...think about something that stuck with you for years and years, well after witnessing it (good/bad)...think about something that left a lasting impression on you and made you feel like that that's what you want to become or want from life some day. &lt;strong&gt;Even if you haven't 'implemented' it yet, maybe that vision is still in you somewhere, deep down your slumbering psyche, waiting to be awakened when the right cue is met? &lt;/strong&gt;Here's something that shook me, pierced my developing belief-system and reigned my entire life after witnessing it so many years ago from now:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An Epiphany...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegX_eHX9EI/AAAAAAAAG3Y/xGYgX7Iu9cU/s1600-h/nob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532938548802626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 313px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/SegX_eHX9EI/AAAAAAAAG3Y/xGYgX7Iu9cU/s320/nob.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was walking with my mum and dad down a hospital aisle. We were visiting a patient (a friend of my parents). I was barely 7. We had to walk past the Cancer ward to get to where our friend was. My parents were in front of me and I was tagging along behind them, looking at all the patients with my curious eyes (maybe that was my first conscious-visit to a hospital). As a child, I was very observant and didn't wanna miss a thing. Suddenly my eyes caught a female patient of about 50yrs of age lying on a bed...waist-down her body was left partly naked (for treatment I suppose). She had her legs spread open and she seemed to be in ALOT of pain...her facial expressions read &lt;strong&gt;Suffering &amp;amp; Death&lt;/strong&gt;. I looked straight at her and I saw a huge cavity-like wound (as large as her entire abdominal area!). She basically didn't have any flesh between her legs...it was one big hole of blood and pus! I was in shock. I know no child should have been allowed to walk past that area, but it happened somehow. I saw it all. Apparently she was a Rectal cancer patient (I later found out cos I asked my dad why she was in so much pain and looked so different compared to other patients). My dad was a man who never obscured anything about life from us...he told us everything as it is. I remember going home and thinking about that woman for days, weeks and months...and then years. The trauma has worn off but the reality of our bodies hit me hard. &lt;strong&gt;Just then something surfaced to the top of my very young mind...something that had woken up after it met it's trigger.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Seggw2vK5FI/AAAAAAAAG3o/JzSKw9-9YMY/s1600-h/medit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325542583064781906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BIlzHzRbxXE/Seggw2vK5FI/AAAAAAAAG3o/JzSKw9-9YMY/s320/medit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Somehow I can't seem to erase that sight from my mind...and the thought that was born with it. &lt;strong&gt;And that thought is what a load of rubbish our bodies are...&lt;/strong&gt;flesh decays and the body rots. Longing, suffering and death cannot be avoided by any humanbeing. The sight of that patient was a true testament to the temporary nature of our bodies and lives. We can conquer all of that by meditation. We can separate the body from the mind. But developing our minds to the highest point (still point) is not an easy task but I'm sure is the most peaceful state to be. The Bhikkus always intrigued me and being a part of the lay community, I always looked up to Bana (Dhamma preachings) from the monks during Buddhist events, both at home and outside. Even now whenever I go to a temple, I feel at home and at my best naturally. Since I grew up in a Buddhist environment, I always saw the temple and meditation as my ultimate peace in life. Is it a vision of my future just like it was for Kohinoor Singh? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;*can you visualise me with a shaved-head and in yellow robes some day? :):)* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I know my mum won't be very happy if she read this post!&lt;/span&gt; Right now I'm VERY far from what it requires to achieve such a state of mind...but I know this inscription is within me. Share your stories, visions and thoughts please, thanks. And have a 'blissful' weekend too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Buddham Saranam Gacchami&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take refuge in Buddha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dhammam Saranam Gacchami&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take refuge in Dharma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sangham Saranam Gacchami&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take refuge in Sangha... ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Current Music: &lt;strong&gt;Buddham Saranam Gacchami&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(A &lt;em&gt;buddhist&lt;/em&gt; song sung by the late &lt;em&gt;muslim&lt;/em&gt; SL singer Mohideen Baig) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8476566-5104977233650762153?l=keshigirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keshigirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5104977233650762153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8
