<?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-8727238172209157971</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:18:25.429-07:00</updated><category term='emotions'/><category term='descriptive'/><title type='text'>Occasional entries of a boy without a sense of reality ...</title><subtitle type='html'>What's real?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-6386769729788115277</id><published>2008-04-04T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T08:38:03.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a puddle on the road on a rainy day, all my thoughts so far are gathered into this little entry...</title><content type='html'>What's it been like? Two and a half moths? Gosh, that was fast! It felt like it was just yesterday I just finished my exam. So what have I been up to? What else? Enjoyment! What more do you expect? Work? The so-called 'self improvement'? Don't make me laugh. That's not how I spend my time. Yeah, yeah, I know. I just sit around at home doing nothing. However, I may be able to justify my acts of 'laziness'. You call it &lt;em&gt;slacking&lt;/em&gt;, I call it rest and recuperation. Have you thought about what is going to happen next semester? I'm going to be 2nd Year Student. That means a 100% increase in projects, workloads and whatnot. Break time during the semester is the same as school time, deadlines still have to be met and meetings to be - well - met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you find it boring, you ask? Isn't it a bore just to sit around and grow fat while everyone around you is doing something? You ask me? Of course I don't find it boring. Rather, I find it a privilage. &lt;em&gt;What a privilage? Residing in your own cluttered house, we all have one too, what's the privilage? &lt;/em&gt;Ah, that's where you miss the point. Having the chance to wake up as late as one likes and to slowly sip my cup of coffee in the morning, reading the papers. It beats having to stuff bread in my mouth while putting on my shoes with my belt still unbuckled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the typical lifestyle of a couch potato, you say with disgust. You now start to despise my actions and unrealistic reasoning for my laziness. Well, have it your way. I can't force people to see things the way I do. Anyway, I enjoyed my holiday, did you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-6386769729788115277?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/6386769729788115277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=6386769729788115277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/6386769729788115277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/6386769729788115277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2008/04/like-puddle-on-road-on-rainy-day-all-my.html' title='Like a puddle on the road on a rainy day, all my thoughts so far are gathered into this little entry...'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-2010277619238253668</id><published>2007-09-02T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T22:28:43.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life as it is today is nothing like the Bliss wallpaper that comes with the Windows XP OS. It’s full of rocks, mudslides, typhoons and other calamities. On top of that you’ve got to survive it because that’s your world. You’ve got nowhere else to go. Here is where you belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each morning you wake up, the fresh morning air is soon interrupted with the foul smell of fuel from the school bus below, its engine growling away. The bird chirping outside your window soon flies away as your mother suddenly yelled for you to wake up and fetch the paper from outside even though she’s been going in and out of the house countless times already. With life being such a drag, I wonder what it’s like when I grow up. Will I have a tyrannical boss? Or perhaps I would have a slave driver for a manager and a backstabber for a colleague? You may think that those kind of people that looks at the bottle as half empty. However, isn’t this true? I mean, look around you is this not what you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bleak path ahead of me seems to have no end. How much more can I endure, is to only trudge along this solitary path and find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say though, that this is the life now. From the bleak and overcast sky to the crowded trains and buses during rush hours, all these seem to add up to equation of living life. If that is so, why are we traveling to places that promise clear blue skies and cool green fields to relax? Because we’ve got nothing else better to spend it on? It could be very well spent on medication when you’re old and not ready to die just yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-2010277619238253668?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/2010277619238253668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=2010277619238253668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/2010277619238253668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/2010277619238253668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/09/life-as-it-is-today-is-nothing-like.html' title=''/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-3303487473484952257</id><published>2007-08-31T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T02:32:12.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why i don't appreciate it at all</title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;ife&lt;/span&gt; is full of heart break, restlessness and doubt. you'll never know when your friends will leave you. credit never given to youa at appropriate times. you're never recognized and no one cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered why you're alive? have you ever thought what drove you to live until now? the people around you climb up the ladder with ease, while you find yours old and rickety and the steps broken every now and then. everyone's got the best of life and you seem to always get what's left of the pile. you're labelled as a second base which everyone overlooks. you try your best to shine but others just outshine you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has no meaning then. even the tiniest ray of hope fades away as other people take it away from you. in the end, you got nothing, you're nothing and it's just nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-3303487473484952257?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/3303487473484952257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=3303487473484952257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/3303487473484952257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/3303487473484952257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/08/life-is-full-of-heart-break.html' title='why i don&apos;t appreciate it at all'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-2797253766137693370</id><published>2007-08-28T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T02:32:45.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>there are some who embrace. then again there are those who dont.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; live in a world of my own. my rules, the things i want to see and the way i want things to go about. no fluctuation. no hiccups. gravity has no say in the way things are put. the sun has no right as to where its light shines upon. darkness covers what i consider to be covered. what's right is according to my own doctrines and what's deemed wrong will be to my final word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why the virtual lifestyle? why hide? cowardice? i beg to differ. sometimes in this world, the reality is just to tough to chew we nid to pass over to somthing else of our taste that is not equivalent to baby food. as the world collapses around me gradually, i tend to create my own sanctuary based on the past experiences that i consider soothing to the mind. am i just plunging my head into the sand while the rest of my body sticks out? i don't think so. sometimes just creating things based on my past experiences helps me to calm down amidst the hectic and fast paced world i live in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-2797253766137693370?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/2797253766137693370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=2797253766137693370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/2797253766137693370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/2797253766137693370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/08/there-are-some-who-embrace-then-again.html' title='there are some who embrace. then again there are those who dont.'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-6014328760596507301</id><published>2007-08-12T01:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T01:56:18.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alones Aqua Times TV</title><content type='html'>Your fragile, folded wingsare just tired from the pure blue sky&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to force your smiles for anyone&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to smile... for yourself&lt;br /&gt;That lonely feeling keeps creeping up on me&lt;br /&gt;A single candle burns inside&lt;br /&gt;There shouldn't be an expensive chandelier in a wild place like this&lt;br /&gt;Can i really bury it all with empty words?&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know anymore...&lt;br /&gt;As long as we can swim freely in our dreamswe wont need that sky anymore&lt;br /&gt;Even if you can't let go of the past,I'll still be there to meet you tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Your fragile, folded wingsare just tired from the pure blue sky&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to force your smiles for anyone&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to smile... for yourself&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-6014328760596507301?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/6014328760596507301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=6014328760596507301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/6014328760596507301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/6014328760596507301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/08/alones-aqua-times-tv.html' title='Alones Aqua Times TV'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-40935480580710559</id><published>2007-07-31T02:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T02:33:31.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>like evening sky, fading into night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; stood at the window and inhaled a deep breath, slowly letting it out. it was not a breath of fresh air to liven me up, but a sigh to describe the stress, the exhaustion and the burden hung across my chest. some things in life is not all of us want it to be. the vivid pictures that pushed us towards our goal are like carrots hung in front us from a fishing rod on our backs. nothing that flashed across my mind happened. had none of the ideal circumstances occured? had i been too demanding? had i expected too much? is &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; considered too much? thoughts swirled in my head as i hopped from one to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like the evening sky, fading into night my ideals were gone. i still keep my hopes up, in case opportunity decides to knock on my door again. in life, what you do does not mean you get everything you want. sometimes, you just have to wait for opportunity to come knocking around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-40935480580710559?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/40935480580710559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=40935480580710559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/40935480580710559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/40935480580710559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/07/like-evening-sky-fading-into-sunset.html' title='like evening sky, fading into night'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-4259463513308524825</id><published>2007-07-09T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T02:33:56.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A heart of regret</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;'Cruel to the eye I see the way he makes you smile &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cruel to the eye &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Watching him hold what used to be mine'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;T&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;he street was filled with romance as loving couples held hands and walked each other down the street enjoying each others company. Alone I sat, on the cold granite bench, under the dim orange lamp waiting for the clock to strike half past eight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Crushed me inside ... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For every word that caused you to cry &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't know why &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I left the one I was looking to find'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The dreaded moments played back in my head. All the screaming, all the yelling and arguing. I wondered how we ever met in the first place. What attracted me to her and she to me seemed a distant memory. Then, it struck me. Her beautiful marble eyes, the way she handled things just seemed so graceful. But then, ...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Out of my mind &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nothing makes sense anymore'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It seemed impossible, all things started to go wrong. We kept postponing dates, all the time that were meant for us to keep in touch either one of us always couldn't make it. Slowly, each of us faded out of one anothers life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As i sat alone, on the cold, granite bench under the dimming street lamp, tears welled up in my eyes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-4259463513308524825?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/4259463513308524825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=4259463513308524825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/4259463513308524825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/4259463513308524825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/07/heart-of-regret.html' title='A heart of regret'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-4407316168291854242</id><published>2007-07-08T05:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T02:35:17.351-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><title type='text'>The pain of sorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="80" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/RY6anIjYsS/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/RY6anIjYsS/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;e're so close, yet a shadow lingers in between us; separating us completely. Why? Why does this barrier have to come in between us? It's interfering with all our thoughts and feelings. Sometimes I feel as though we have never met before. It's like seeing the person sitting opposite you in the train carriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be a third party interference? Is that person trying to tear us apart by inserting this barrier in between us? Why? If it is disapproving of me to be with her, tell it to me right in my face. Why bother with the fancy stuff? Do you draw pleasure from seeing people suffer in bewilderment from such emotions, you psycho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get closer. I want to be her friend. But yet, I want to maintain that distance where we can have our own privacy. How to do so without any intrusion of any sort? I fear that as time goes by, our relationship with each other will only dwindle and disappear altogether. I don't want that to happen. I'll be so lost without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the pain will come back to me and I'll be my heartless self again. That will be totally undesirable. All those years of seeing couples holding hands and walking down the vividly decorated streets of Orchard Road, and eyeing them with jealousy and feeling the pain of that empty void will come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the lonely feeling that no one is there for you, the warm ocean breeze that only seems like an icy wind biting your cheeks. As you walk along the road you only see happy couples, laughing and talking, enjoying each others company while you only have your thoughts and cell phone to accompany you. When you watch a movie, you only laugh with yourself and at the end of the show, you see other couples holding hands telling each other how good the movie was while you only grasp the large coke in your hands and throw it away on the way out. When you achieve one of your intermediate goals, you only have yourself to rejoice with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want that. Not again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-4407316168291854242?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/4407316168291854242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=4407316168291854242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/4407316168291854242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/4407316168291854242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/07/pain-of-sorrow_08.html' title='The pain of sorrow'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-5174888969028325800</id><published>2007-03-29T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T18:46:35.269-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='descriptive'/><title type='text'>New Thing</title><content type='html'>The scent of new plastic, the smooth complexion of its flawless metallic cover. Treating it with extreme care, I opened it up to admire its true beauty in is full glory. Under the sun, it glowed like a treasure chest filled to the brim with valuables. In the midnight sky, under the flourescent lamps of the &lt;em&gt;void deck &lt;/em&gt;it glistened like a diamond under the moonlight. My new laptop. A true beauty in its full glory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-5174888969028325800?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/5174888969028325800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=5174888969028325800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/5174888969028325800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/5174888969028325800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/03/new-things.html' title='New Thing'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8727238172209157971.post-7966241410290389285</id><published>2007-03-25T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T00:54:34.868-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='descriptive'/><title type='text'>A Hot Day</title><content type='html'>It was a hot Sunday afternoon. The street was as still as a windchime hanging by the window, hoping for a non-existent breeze. The bright green leaves and the azure blue sky seem to compliment each other on their colours. Even the shadows cast by the trees and buildings  blended well with the tarmac of the road. Except for a distant sound of an occasional scooter putting by, all was quiet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8727238172209157971-7966241410290389285?l=urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/feeds/7966241410290389285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8727238172209157971&amp;postID=7966241410290389285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/7966241410290389285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8727238172209157971/posts/default/7966241410290389285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urhuuthinkur.blogspot.com/2007/03/hot-day.html' title='A Hot Day'/><author><name>SMiTH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01348919831911866096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://frettchen.designblog.de/images/kunde/IceAge.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
