<?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-15596086</id><updated>2011-06-26T14:28:20.441-07:00</updated><category term='Short stories'/><title type='text'>Ataxia</title><subtitle type='html'>LIVIN' IN A WORLD OF CHAOS</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-5322458043799128874</id><published>2008-03-23T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T08:20:17.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>She felt a prick of a sharp needle on her arm. Again they were drawing blood; tears emerged and slowly rolled down from the corner of her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She opened her eyes to find herself alone in her room. She looked at her arm and found a small cut that she made yesterday. It tingled when she touched. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So it was that.&lt;/em&gt; She thought and wiped her tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-5322458043799128874?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/5322458043799128874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=5322458043799128874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/5322458043799128874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/5322458043799128874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2008/03/she-felt-prick-of-sharp-needle-on-her.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-843681609333573647</id><published>2007-09-22T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T13:21:54.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>She stared her left arm. It had four long cuts and one deep bleeding slash. The sight of dripping blood gave her a queer sensation. Her arm was hurting. The feeling of new tingling pain was overwhelming. For a while, she forgot what was tormenting her. The sour memories and harsh realities ….. such thoughts were so painful that they had cut her to the soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She held her arm and closed her eyes. The pain of this bleeding arm is better than the pain of my bleeding soul. She said to herself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-843681609333573647?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/843681609333573647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=843681609333573647' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/843681609333573647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/843681609333573647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2007/09/she-stared-her-left-arm.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-1965036386464224817</id><published>2007-03-09T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T11:21:36.861-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>He said nothing. Silence said it all. His uncaring manner irked her to no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She promised herself to not even let him come near her heart and assumed he would never make it so far. But like a warrior, he besieged the fortress and marked his territory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood up and walked away. She realized that he had taken a piece of her with him. But then she shook her head to clear her thoughts, because it was she who let him in her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-1965036386464224817?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/1965036386464224817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=1965036386464224817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/1965036386464224817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/1965036386464224817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2007/03/he-said-nothing.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-4442982217754978525</id><published>2007-03-04T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T11:41:45.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>She studied her reflection in the mirror and recalled what he had said. He admired beauty and had always been lavish with compliments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She broke the mirror. She was just one of his beauties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-4442982217754978525?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/4442982217754978525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=4442982217754978525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/4442982217754978525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/4442982217754978525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2007/03/she-studied-her-reflection-in-mirror.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-5629717645723532345</id><published>2007-02-19T23:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T11:43:19.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>He was tracing patterns of crisscross lines on her palm. She looked at him and wondered which special line made her so lucky to get someone like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She felt her pulses fluttering in rhythm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-5629717645723532345?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/5629717645723532345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=5629717645723532345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/5629717645723532345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/5629717645723532345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2007/02/he-was-tracing-patterns-of-crisscross.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-8998453641843431632</id><published>2007-02-08T22:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T03:07:41.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Teacher, you look ummm…… nothing," the girl stopped when I looked at her with my wet, swollen eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, do you wanna say something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, all I wanted to say that your eyes look pretty," she seemed intimidated, I am a strict teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you look sad today," another one blurted out. "Are you sad, teacher?" the sincerity of her tone filled the air. Everyone looked at me and I could read the same question in their eyes. Their innocence and naivety engulfed me and all miserable feelings disappeared.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not anymore." I smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-8998453641843431632?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/8998453641843431632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=8998453641843431632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/8998453641843431632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/8998453641843431632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2007/02/teacher-you-look-ummm-nothing-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-114349645674515178</id><published>2006-03-23T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T13:27:36.339-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Short stories'/><title type='text'>Distance of time</title><content type='html'>The party was in full swing. The lawn was full of guests. Everyone had put on the best attire, ladies in dresses of chiffon, embroidery and watered satin while gents in dark evening suits. Food had been served and people were enjoying the banquet. The atmosphere was warm and jovial. Exchange of greetings with beaming smiles, shake hands and usual ‘hellos’ was taking place. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in the soirée except … him. His eyes kept slithering along with her. She, … dressed elegantly in black, unnerved by his bold glances, was moving around turning heads wherever she went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was alone and furious. His female companion had left him and he could see her talking to other mates. He was fuming with the feeling of neglection and jealousy. More than that, he was upset with himself. All his efforts had gone futile. She had appeared so calm and composed despite of his ceaseless ogles. He wanted to talk to her but couldn’t get her alone. And…. Above all, she had dressed to kill. She was taking it out and he knew it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though she enjoyed subjugating his mind and holding his attention but his surveillance had started to irritate her. He followed her everywhere she went. With a plate of food in her hand, she started to stride towards the corner making her way between the gorgeously dressed and bejeweled ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She felt herself at peace. He was nowhere to be seen. There were few people around her and luckily, all of them were strangers who were engaged in their personal conversations.  She was glad to have found some place to collect herself, and started eating her food. Suddenly, she was aware of observation. She looked up and encountered the… gaze of his dark intense eyes. Her heart started pounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There they were, just two of them, standing in front of each other surrounded by the echoes of silence. She felt that time had stopped, and the lawn had become void of people. Everything seemed to have faded away except him. Memories began flooding back. The love, the desire, the temptation and …. the betrayal, the torture, the pain …. the scenes continued until she shut her eyes in anguish, and tried to blot out those memories. She collected her shattered thoughts and then opened eyes to see him. He was watching her, with regret and longing in his gaze. That appeased her wounded ego and the agony of her heart. He seemed to be intimidated by her. She realized that he wouldn’t be able to come near her. Apparently, they were few steps away but the distance was of thousand miles. And with that beautiful realization, she smiled and walked over towards crowd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-114349645674515178?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/114349645674515178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=114349645674515178' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114349645674515178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114349645674515178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2006/03/distance-of-time.html' title='Distance of time'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-114194288799358061</id><published>2006-03-10T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T14:21:28.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dawn</title><content type='html'>The full moon shines&lt;br /&gt;And the cricket rhymes&lt;br /&gt;The strong wind blows&lt;br /&gt;As the darkness grows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night is still&lt;br /&gt;And the air is chill&lt;br /&gt;The dog howls at a distance&lt;br /&gt;And is visible from my stance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness fills inside&lt;br /&gt;And breaks my pride&lt;br /&gt;My heart sinks&lt;br /&gt;And the world shrinks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tears blind me&lt;br /&gt;For an hour wee&lt;br /&gt;Then, the silence breaks&lt;br /&gt;And the world wakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun peeks through&lt;br /&gt;The clouds go through&lt;br /&gt;The dawn ends the sorrow&lt;br /&gt;And the sun rises with another tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-114194288799358061?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/114194288799358061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=114194288799358061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114194288799358061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114194288799358061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2006/03/dawn.html' title='Dawn'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-114104049596288763</id><published>2006-02-27T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T03:41:36.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>surrounded by darkness, I search for light&lt;br /&gt;morality tells me what's wrong and right&lt;br /&gt;lost in labyrinth of inarticulate facts&lt;br /&gt;I call for guide ...crave for sight&lt;br /&gt;the chain of religious and social taboos&lt;br /&gt;shackles around my feet tight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the morals and goals that i hold inside&lt;br /&gt;are the feelings i just cannot hide&lt;br /&gt;with thoughts echoing in my head&lt;br /&gt;a gaping whirlpool opens up wide&lt;br /&gt;breaking the cages that had me confined&lt;br /&gt;pulling apart the rules I were to abide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so proud of this freedom from bondage&lt;br /&gt;that saved me from paroxysm of rage&lt;br /&gt;and I plunged into abyss of this gyration&lt;br /&gt;because it allows me to live thru my age&lt;br /&gt;it gives an egress to my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;and let them fly away thru the cage&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-114104049596288763?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/114104049596288763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=114104049596288763' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114104049596288763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/114104049596288763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2006/02/surrounded-by-darkness-i-search-for.html' title=''/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-112844318760050336</id><published>2005-10-04T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T09:26:27.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence must be heard</title><content type='html'>hEy! I read this poem somewhere....really liked it so decided  to share it with you all :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S I L E N C E&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the silence came,&lt;br /&gt;Nobody was there,&lt;br /&gt;Nobody to hear the silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which was why, (nobody supposed)&lt;br /&gt;There really was silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jacques du Lumerie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-112844318760050336?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/112844318760050336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=112844318760050336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112844318760050336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112844318760050336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2005/10/silence-must-be-heard.html' title='Silence must be heard'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-112811402284125512</id><published>2005-10-01T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T14:00:22.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret of a Girl</title><content type='html'>There is a girl I see everyday&lt;br /&gt;Alone at the corner, in the alleyway&lt;br /&gt;An anxious expression is what she wears&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes are always glistening with tears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stands there all the daylong&lt;br /&gt;Wishes if somewhere she could belong&lt;br /&gt;Her face bears a wan smile&lt;br /&gt;That hides her pain for a while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the courage to ask the cause&lt;br /&gt;But she couldn't tell me what it was&lt;br /&gt;Her downcast eyes revealed the pain&lt;br /&gt;When she tried to smile in vain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understood what she was trying to hide&lt;br /&gt;The sour memories and the broken pride&lt;br /&gt;She hid from me her bleeding soul&lt;br /&gt;Her injured dignity and esteem as whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hid from me the people's sins&lt;br /&gt;And smiled with smiles and grinned with grins&lt;br /&gt;She told me the story with her teary eyes&lt;br /&gt;That now she is thru, she wishes she dies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-112811402284125512?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/112811402284125512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=112811402284125512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112811402284125512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112811402284125512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2005/10/secret-of-girl.html' title='Secret of a Girl'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-112699013434202836</id><published>2005-09-18T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T14:13:34.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning the Hard Way!</title><content type='html'>Deep in the corner of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Love is still there as was in the start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all the writing with fire&lt;br /&gt;Has become a lost desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories have become phantoms&lt;br /&gt;Though appear as night comes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain, the agony is now gone&lt;br /&gt;As I lay in my bed alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The touch that injured my soul&lt;br /&gt;My dignity, my esteem as whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temptations that succumbed me&lt;br /&gt;All have vanished and I m free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Difficult to fathom this line of thought&lt;br /&gt;But this is how I’ve tried to sort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting my soul back in the mortal shelf&lt;br /&gt;Losing him is actually gaining myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-112699013434202836?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/112699013434202836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=112699013434202836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112699013434202836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112699013434202836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2005/09/learning-hard-way.html' title='Learning the Hard Way!'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15596086.post-112690605242999263</id><published>2005-09-17T02:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T13:33:46.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schizophrenia</title><content type='html'>How do we define reality? …. Something that exists? But what exists? …an entity?…a being? Throughout our lives we study that this is real, that is real …Newton’s law is true, Laplacian principle is true ….e = mc² is true…whole science is based on truth….anything which is true is science but how do we prove that this is true and this is not? Logically???&lt;br /&gt;What’s logic? A reason…that’s what “sane” people say! Why do we always reason through mathematical methods? I mean anything that cannot be proved mathematically or scientifically is not true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who could not prove existence of an entity or their proof is not based on pre-defined “logically true” methods are categorized as insane, psychotic, schizophrenic etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existence is nothing but a belief. We believe that God exists…. angels exist, demons exist… souls exist…. aliens exist…. love exists (for some :p), hate exists ….life exists…death exists… gravity exists….I exist…you exist….all philosophical and mathematical entities exist! What doesn’t exist is what we don’t believe!!! Our collective beliefs are taken as reality. Even existence theorems, reality- testing methods, psychoanalysis measures are based on beliefs that have been hard-wired in our minds.&lt;br /&gt;Reality is relative!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Schizophrenia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see what I see?&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear what I hear?&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel what I feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not insane&lt;br /&gt;I just see things I cannot explain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a woman walking in the alleyway&lt;br /&gt;I hear distant voices of chanting in the day&lt;br /&gt;These are not my thoughts as you think&lt;br /&gt;It’s just that we are missing a link&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not insane&lt;br /&gt;I just see things I cannot explain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You feel love, I don’t; I feel pain, you don’t&lt;br /&gt;But we both have fears that still haunt&lt;br /&gt;I hear sounds in silence; like you hear echoes of memory&lt;br /&gt;But then why we both belong to different category?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not insane&lt;br /&gt;I just see things I cannot explain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s not a social ignominy&lt;br /&gt;Nor a hopeless plight or the end&lt;br /&gt;But it's an optimistic pilgrimage&lt;br /&gt;Of all the thoughts I could not mend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not insane&lt;br /&gt;I just see things I cannot explain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15596086-112690605242999263?l=micr0c0smic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/feeds/112690605242999263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15596086&amp;postID=112690605242999263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112690605242999263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15596086/posts/default/112690605242999263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micr0c0smic.blogspot.com/2005/09/schizophrenia.html' title='Schizophrenia'/><author><name>xunz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16930371764207180340</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z6r8ynzBQsQ/TCRzHpBBwoI/AAAAAAAAANw/-FR3XRmn-mw/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
