<?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-18751474</id><updated>2012-02-11T01:22:38.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~Abre Los Ojos~</title><subtitle type='html'>You hope, and you dream but u never believe that something is going to happen for u, not like it does in the movies and when it actually does u expect it to feel different more visceral, more real, I was waiting for it to hit me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-5912606699429202861</id><published>2010-12-23T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T06:31:31.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiccups....</title><content type='html'>Sometimes you think you have it all planned. You make some choices and give it a shot and in the end you just hope it works out. I've noticed that this works for a lot of people I know. Except of course, one person, me. Now I'm not saying that everyone else has had it easy and I'm at the bottom of the pit, just that I'm at the bottom of the pit and some people, well, aren't. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I chose hiccup as the name of this post because apparently it reoccurs. I would know, when I was in the 6th grade I was once made to do a skit on a radio show of a kid who was going to set a record for having hiccups the longest, but only fell short of a second because of a bull that got loose and scared him stiff. Well when your scared stiff and have the hiccups, it tends to disappear (I'm actually quite glad I don't remember more). It wasn't fun, having to pretend doing the hiccups repetitively and having to hear this kid make bull sounds, but I got mini-celebrity status for being heard on the radio. Right so back to why I chose hiccup for this post. Hiccups are unpleasant and they don't stop. Which I thought made for an interesting metaphor. So if I haven't gotten to the point, my life has been a series of hiccups. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a plan. It was fairly simple and it sorta involved charting out the course of my life for the next two years. Something that I was really looking forward to. So I did my homework and gave myself a reasonable enough time frame. I had to do an exam, that for the last 4 years has been the bane of my existence and I once again stand defeated. I worked this time, I thought I made progress, but come exam day it was as though my picture perfect world for the next two years was turned inside out. Well actually, it kinda disappeared into a whiff of smoke. The dramatic apparition of that seems more in line with what I felt/feel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I honestly can't quite comprehend it. I went into it with this whole feeling that my whole life rested on it and I don't know what to think, feel or believe anymore. We're obviously put in a world where we're all pitted against each other. Parents are always curious to know what other parents children are doing and well this honestly does not help my cause. It isn't the end of the world. I know that, I wake up every morning hoping it is. I can see the sea from my roof and I often wish a Tsunami the size of my view would come say hello. Actually I take that back, I think I'd prefer asteroid contact. Instant incineration to wallowed drowning seems more ratifying, who am I kidding, it seems less painful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm told that there are a couple of ways to look at a situation like this. You assess your options and move along. Or you suddenly realize that by some divine intervention that maybe your chasing something your not meant to do but instead should go for what your most passionate about. See, now I like that option. Only thing is that its f***ing risky. I could be here in a couple of years from now again saying - I told you so. Or I could get lost in my head hoping no one would find me, again too dramatic for actuality. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I am, unemployed, fat and unhealthy with just about an inch of sanity going for me. But yes, there are so many more people out there who've got bigger problems and varied issues. I feel your pain on some transient wave length. I do, I feel your pain. Because no matter how much water you drink or how scared you get, these hiccups just don't go away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-5912606699429202861?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5912606699429202861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=5912606699429202861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5912606699429202861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5912606699429202861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2010/12/hiccups.html' title='Hiccups....'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-2701938832995506083</id><published>2010-04-09T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T07:00:26.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody's Fine</title><content type='html'>Well are they? I have seldom ever met a person I've asked who's said otherwise. It's always 'good, great, not too bad' and more often than not 'fine'. My post is actually titled after a movie I saw called Everybody's fine and it stars Robert De Niro, Sam Rockwell, Drew Barrymore and Kate Beckinsale. I wont blog about the movie, but I'd advise you watch it. It' just very real and something you can relate with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us have different sets of relationships. With our parents, girlfriends, friends, colleagues etc. Lots of people have very open relationships with their parents, they're able to tell them everything that matters and they rarely ever hide anything important. I ofcourse do not have this sort of relationship. I've never had and I don't really think I ever will. Needless to say I've probably never tried. But being very open with my parents is not something I'm used to. I've always been scared of pre-conceived notions that they've had about things and at the moment I don't really discuss much with them. Somehow I have a feeling that this is probably something I'm going to regret. If I were in their place tomorrow, I'd hate to have that sorta relationship with my kids. But yeah, whenever my parents ask me how things are my answer is their fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize that you could make a movie of it, but watching Robert De Niro's relationship with his kids in the movie was really something I could relate to. In 'Everybody's Fine', the kids all confide in the mother but they tell the father that everything's fine and in the end he has to find out the hard way. But that's just the funny  thing about relationships isn't it? Sometimes it takes years to develop into something, sometimes a moment together can seal something solid and sometimes it can just tear everything apart. I guess who we are in a relationship will ultimately define it. I'm not really sure whether there's a guidebook to these things, but I always rely on one piece of advice from my mom and that's to be a good human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closing in on 27, I think I've had my share of relationships with people. One's I cherish, cherished and wish I made something of. I've had to make an effort with some, while I could close my eyes on others. But inside me there's a feeling of something restless. Like I still have to meet the rest of the world and decide who's going to be a part of my life. Where there are going to be moments of happiness with people I've never met and moments of anguish with people I've always know. Either which way, even though it's the easiest thing to say, I hope me and mine will always be fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-2701938832995506083?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/2701938832995506083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=2701938832995506083&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/2701938832995506083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/2701938832995506083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2010/04/everybodys-fine.html' title='Everybody&apos;s Fine'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-886032604441485424</id><published>2009-12-09T12:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T07:26:19.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the building had no name, though his was scars. it stood tall and when he gazed up at it, it reached the sky. he thought it apt and started to make his way towards it. his manner was calm and he strolled toward it. as he made his way there, everything around him seemed to echo his blank of state of mind. the absence of anything or anyone made it easier. all scars could feel was a light wind grazing the ends of his skin and all he could hear was the systemic beating of his heart inside his chest. approaching its revolving door he thought it ironic that what seemed so hard as slamming a door like that could now be walked through with a certain sense of ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scars wasnt really sure how things got to this point. what led it it or what was the cause of it. it just seemed liked his sense of purpose was distorted. when that happened he lost interest to find his calling. experiences make a person. though his were varied he could never really connect them together like most people could. at the end of it all he wanted change more than change wanted him and when it eluded him pressing the elevator button to the 99th floor didn't seem to be a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his hands in his pocket he thought about people in his life. though he knew his actions would have consequences, he comforted himself in the universal truth that no matter what, life would go on. nothing would stop. change it seemed proved its inevitability of being permanant. he only wished he could have explained it all. but theres never any point trying to explain something to someone who wouldn't understand. he figured that when they were faced with it, they would never come to terms with it, never find the right reasons. all that he knew was that there was no right or wrong. it all became relative.  sometimes you dont' need a reason to do things, just a feeling. he found comfort in that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the elevator arrived he took a deep breath and stepped in. his heart started to beat faster with every approaching floor. his palms in his pocket were starting to get sweaty. but then he saw his reflection in the steel doors of the elevator and he started to calm down. nervousness came naturally to him. in times of action he needed it to perform. his reflection reminded him of who he was and when he glanced up the lights to the 99th floor lit up and the doors opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he looked down, cleared his mind and with the grip of adrenaline he started to run. gritting his teeth he launched himself. it amazed him how random his mind was, with a couple of seconds left he could only think about how he should have tied his shoe laces tighter. but that was his life, its significance ran parallel with the act of tying it. he knew it and so did the world who didn't know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was once a guy called scars and that was his life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-886032604441485424?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/886032604441485424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=886032604441485424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/886032604441485424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/886032604441485424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/building-had-no-name-though-his-was.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-1053927056252676668</id><published>2009-10-12T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T13:32:26.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>16mm...</title><content type='html'>I watched 'Wake up Sid' last week and I came out feeling really good. Now isn't that what a Director or a Producer and the Actors are aiming to do whilst putting it all together? They want audiences to enjoy their couple of hours in the theatre. But ofcourse movies like Wake Up Sid can mean different things to different people. It's a very run of the mill story of a college boy who graduates but doesn't actually graduate mentally. Life's still fun and games. Until ofcourse his results come out and he fails.&lt;br /&gt;Reality check.&lt;br /&gt;He argues with the folks and leaves home. Ofcourse before this he's made friends with a girl who's just moved to Mumbai, helped her set up and now seeks refuge with her to calm the storm. Ofcourse he still hasn't grown up yet. His course of staying with her and realizing for once that he has to do everything on his own steers down a path to actually being able to enjoy the rewards of Independence where you can work hard and play hard. All the while getting closer to the girl and then falling in love with her. He gets a job makes up with the folks and then hooks up with the girl - happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;But some of us have had some of these exact same feelings, where our future doesn't really seem to matter and all that does is living in the moment. Until ofcourse it catches up with you and you realize that if you don't wake up your gonna get left behind. His arguement with his Dad before leaving home reminded me of my relationship with my Dad, where we never see their point of view and all they really want for us is to see us succeed and make somethin of ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;I had 2 points to this post.&lt;br /&gt;One ofcourse was how cinema like this, the type we can relate with is sometimes what we just want to watch. Not your larger than life action heroes but just your normal regular college boy character that you can relate with. Bingo, someone you can relate with. Thats what the Director was trying to do and kudos to him. I know plenty of people like me who could relate with that character and ofcourse evoke certain emotions within us that sometime's we'd like to see on celluloid instead of our everyday lives.&lt;br /&gt;The second being emotion. All our states of mind - happiness, sadness, anger, hate etc. that can be drawn out. I hope to one day make a movie where I can evoke certain emotions and create real characters that real people can relate with. I came out of Wake up Sid thinking that was such a sweet, simple and real story and it touched certain chords within me. I find myself listening the soundtrack of the movie feeling the emotions that the characters felt whilst it played in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;But that's just the magic of cinema isn't it? Where your invited to be a part of someone else's world for a couple of hours. Someone you wish you were or could be. Someone you'd aspire to be or that someone who doesn't make the same mistakes. Point being movies for me have always been so real, they've always wielded that power over me that I use or incorporate into my day to day life, I just don't know what I'd do without it....&lt;br /&gt;I guess there's no businesss like show business....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-1053927056252676668?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1053927056252676668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=1053927056252676668&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/1053927056252676668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/1053927056252676668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/16mm.html' title='16mm...'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-6376115906476323374</id><published>2009-10-04T12:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T12:59:40.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons for 2012</title><content type='html'>Reason one: Mayan calendar &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first to predict 2012 as the end of the world were the Mayans, a bloodthirsty race that were good at two things -- building highly accurate astrological equipment out of stone and sacrificing virgins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thousands of years ago they managed to calculate the length of the lunar moon as 329.53020 days, only 34 seconds out. The Mayan calendar predicts that the earth will end on December 21, 2012. Given that they were pretty close to the mark with the lunar cycle, it's likely they've got the end of the world right as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason two: Sun storms &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solar experts from around the world monitoring the sun have made a startling discovery. Our sun is in a bit of strife. The energy output of the sun is, like most things in nature, cyclic and it's supposed to be in the middle of a period of relative stability. However, recent solar storms have been bombarding the earth with lot of radiation energy. It's been knocking out power grids and destroying satellites. This activity is predicted to get worse and calculations suggest it'll reach its deadly peak sometime in 2012. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason three: The atom smasher &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scientists in Europe have been building the world's largest particle accelerator. Basically, its a 27 km tunnel designed to smash atoms together to find out what makes the universe tick. However, the mega-gadget has caused serious concern, with some scientists suggesting that it's properly even a bad idea to turn it on in the first place. They're predicting all manner of deadly results, including mini black holes. So when this machine is fired up for its first serious experiment in 2012, the world could be crushed into a super-dense blob the size of a basketball. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason four: The Bible says it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If having scientists warning us about the end of the world isn't bad enough, religious folks are getting in on the act as well. Interpretations of the Christian Bible reveal that the date for Armageddon, the final battle between good an evil, has been set for 2012. The I Ching, also known as the Chinese Book of Changes, says the same thing, as do various sections of the Hindu teachings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason five: Super volcano &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellowstone National Park in United States is famous for its thermal springs and old faithful geyser. The reason for this is simple -- it's sitting on top of the world's biggest volcano and geological experts are beginning to get nervous sweats. The Yellowstone volcano has a pattern of erupting every 650,000 years or so, and we're many years overdue for an explosion that will fill the atmosphere with ash, blocking the sun and plunging the earth into a frozen winter that could last up to 15,000 years. The pressure under the Yellowstone is building steadily, and geologists have set 2012 as a likely date for the big bang. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason six: The physicists &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one's case of bog -- simple maths mathematics. Physicists at Berkely University have been crunching the numbers. &lt;br /&gt;They've determined that the earth is well overdue for a major catastrophic event. Even worse, they're claiming that their calculations prove that we're all going to die, very soon. They are also saying that their prediction comes with a certainty of 99 per cent; and 2012 just happens to be the best guess as to when it occurs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason seven: Earth's magnetic field &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know the Earth is surrounded by a magnetic field that shields us from most of the sun's radiation. What you might not know is that the magnetic poles we call North and South have a nasty habit of swapping places every 750,000 years or so -- and right now we're about 30,000 years overdue. Scientists have noted that the poles are drifting apart roughly 20-30 kms each year, much faster than ever before, which points to a pole-shift being right around the corner. While the pole shift is under way, the magnetic field is disrupted and will eventually disappear, sometimes for up to 100 years. The result is enough UV outdoors to crisp your skin in seconds, killing everything it touches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-6376115906476323374?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/6376115906476323374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=6376115906476323374&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/6376115906476323374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/6376115906476323374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/reasons-for-2012.html' title='Reasons for 2012'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-5547568080835433657</id><published>2009-10-04T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T13:27:05.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of the world.... or so they say.</title><content type='html'>I received an email on 2012 the other day. It's a movie directed by Roland Emmerich the same guy who's made 'Independence Day' &amp;amp; 'The Day After Tomorrow'. Both very larger than life films. Apparently according to selective groups of people in the world, we are destined(scientifically/non-scientifically) to see the end of our world in the year 2012. Which is yes, in our very own lifetime. The reasons that these people seem to have, have been posted in my previous post. I'm not a scientist or a priest or a philospher, I'm just a curious guy like most other people. I want to know whether this is a possibility. Or more so if there was evidence linked to it, would the people who knew about it actually disclose it. I think it's pretty unpredictable to say how us human beings would react if we knew the world was coming to an end and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. I guess all of us would like to do different things, or be with certain people. But as movies have shown us what seems most likely to occur is wide spread panic. Now if this we're the case, the people who have evidence of this or rather who were smart enough to gather evidence of this are probably smart enough not to disclose it for the above mentioned reasons. Or at least not yet. 2012 is still a couple of years off. So are there preparations being made to save our species that we do not know about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your probably thinking that I watch too much tv. And you know what... your probably right. But I like to imagine these hypothetical situations where tomorrow we wake up and realize that for every day till 2012 our days are numbered. It would probably seem like making an effort to do anything would be absolutely pointless. Most people would be encompassed by a 'whats the point?' attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm still trying to figure what the point was about this post, I seem to have lost it somewhere. I guess there are so many things that happen in this world for which we have no answers. Scientists would probably say that there probably is an explanation. But I know for a fact that there are things that happen for which there are no answers. Now all of us fear what we do not understand. But what if the world was actually coming to an end? It's happened once before, I don't see any dino's outside my window. Why can't it happen again? I know.. so many what if's and so many why's. But what with global warming and ozone depletion it seems like we're doing a pretty good job of shaking the normal order/balance of things. &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;In that case wouldn't the natural order or balance be to press the reset button? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Somehow I'm reminded by the caption of my blog....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;You hope, and you dream but you never believe that something is going to happen for you, not like it does in the movies and when it actually does y&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;ou expect it to feel different more visceral, more real..... I was waiting for it to hit me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-5547568080835433657?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5547568080835433657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=5547568080835433657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5547568080835433657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5547568080835433657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/end-of-world-or-so-they-say.html' title='The end of the world.... or so they say.'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-3606198533883457920</id><published>2009-10-02T13:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T14:24:51.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Selling Points...</title><content type='html'>Well I wasn't actually quite sure what to name this post, but it just sorta struck me this morning about how we are able to convince people to buy things, or how we are able to convince people to vote for them or how we are able to convince them that doing this is the right thing and well... u get the point. I have no qualms in admitting that stating all the facts and benefits that could be accrued consist of a majority in leading to conviction but what I really wanted to touch on was the way it's done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard Obama lobby today for the Chicago 2016 Olympics. Apparently he's the first sitting U.S president to do so. Definitely a smart move on the part of the Chicago delegation to use him as a strong hold considering his skills with oration are pretty much something else. Very few ppl are able to talk and make everyone listen. I may not have necessarily been convinced with his rhetoric's on why the Olympics should be held at Chicago, but i did necessarily listen to each an every word he said simply because he had the power to make me do so. Obviously thats not something that all of us are born with. Either you possess hints of it and you develop it or your just born natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ari Gold played by Jeremy Piven is a fantastic display of what an agent could be like. His interpretation and portrayal of the character is outstanding with his unique characteristics standing out. I know that was a bit random, but when you watch entourage you'll notice that though you don't want to be like Ari, you realize there's no one else like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reminded of how maybe Marc Antony turned the tide after Caesar went down. A man like Hitler who had that kind of power to convince ppl of what we know he did...well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall I guess no matter how great your gig is... the point is the way you deliver it and the way you get people to buy it that may just set you apart from the rest of them. So I think you shouldn't be discouraged if your not the most intelligent person on the planet coz there's still hope to set yourself apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you've got everything going for you but cant get it through, this is definitely some food for thought. It's a bit of a power actually, a very strong one at that and an art that you could be born with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold the world, but as the world...&lt;br /&gt;A stage, where every man must play a part..&lt;br /&gt;and mine a furtive one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-3606198533883457920?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3606198533883457920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=3606198533883457920&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/3606198533883457920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/3606198533883457920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/selling-points.html' title='Selling Points...'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-5341075834540586251</id><published>2009-10-01T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T09:10:11.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies....</title><content type='html'>I've been hearing that a lot lately. Everyone's like where did the year go, wasn't it just a couple of months ago when we were celebrating new years?! Can you beleive how long we've know each other... can you believe we've together for so long now!? He was soo tiny and now he's sooo biggg and so on and so forth. The point is time is flying. Maybe our planet is spinning a little faster and we're revolving around the earth a lot swifter, I dont know. But I do know that I'm not 21 anymore and I'm 26. Although most of the time I still think and behave like a 21 year old who's just achieved adult status! I think what's hit me about being 26 is that they're a bunch of 20 and 21 year olds winning grandslams and turning into millionaires. While I'm still whiling my time away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hopefully some of us are later starters... and hopefully when I say us, I'm not alone in this! I guess if you really believe that something is going to happen for you, why shouldn't it? After all, all we have is our dreams and without that we're nothing. I just really hope that I end up where I want to. I'm doing something that I enjoy and most of all I make the people around me who matter the most, happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time certainly flies...and you better put those wings on or you'll never catch up(hint to self).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-5341075834540586251?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5341075834540586251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=5341075834540586251&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5341075834540586251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5341075834540586251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/time-flies.html' title='Time Flies....'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-8431465819572996891</id><published>2009-09-30T06:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T07:45:57.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Granted....</title><content type='html'>I was watching the VMA's (Video Music Awards) the other day where Madonna was on stage paying tribute to Michael Jackson. One of the things she said that I hold good in my life today is the fact that we never really realize or know the value of someone or something good until it's gone. MJ's a standing example of it. I mean we all knew what a great performer he was and what a revelation he was to the music industry but it definitely seems to me that his true worth was only realized after his death. The number of tributes on You Tube and the number of people talking you can't escape the fact that he was one of a kind, a prodigy and an entertainer that I'll never see anyone come close to in my lifetime. I'm confident enough to say never without a probably before it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to harp on about the fact that there are so many things in our lives that we take for granted. Our families our girlfriends our jobs, to a certain extent that only once we loose one of them do we realize that the shit's hit the fan and it's time to wake up and see the world a little differently and value these things a little more. I'm not proud to say that I take a lot of things for granted and now when I come to think of it I'm a little afraid to think about what my life would be like if I didn't have them. Aren't we all I guess? I'll probably pen this and try to be a little more wary but will sort of inevitably turn back to being most of my former self because human nature seems to want to play a part in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I for one only hope that in spite of being aware of all this we reach a stage that when we loose something we only wish our levels of regret are low. And that the wish we hadn't's are outweighed by the I'm glads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is short we all seem to say... but do we honestly know how short? You can live your whole life and probably realize at the end that you wish you'd slow'd it down a little or maybe the opposite? Who knows... to each their own I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a good mix is what I'd like, after all... the sweet don't taste so sweet without the bitter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-8431465819572996891?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/8431465819572996891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=8431465819572996891&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/8431465819572996891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/8431465819572996891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/granted.html' title='Granted....'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-8522613046556929407</id><published>2009-09-28T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T23:15:01.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Full Circle</title><content type='html'>I've been sick for the last couple of days. Well I sorta had something coming on and then one night of debauchery made it even worse and now I'm suffering the after effects of it. It's not something I'm particularly proud off considering I fell sick less than a month ago. I started thinking that all those times I decided to smoke that extra joint or have that extra drink or just smoke cigarettes in a row coz I could is and probably has started to catch up with me. You never really think about the consequences of these things. I guess if you did everyone who smoked and drank in excess would know their limits. I for one have never really known my limits. I've always been one to stretch them pushing boundaries and being rebellious coz it seemed to give me a certain sense of freedom. But I guess where I was drastically wrong was that freedom comes with a certain sense of responsibility that I have failed to possess and I'm not sure whether I will simply because I have failed to acknowledge it all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to the conclusion that I'm quitting alcohol and drugs for the next couple of months with the hope of keeping a clean head and focus on my efforts to get into a respectable business school. Efforts which didn't count enough last year and will hopefully pave the way for a platform of mistakes to learn from. Most of the people I know in my age group are all already so dynamic and doing great things with their life. I can't really say I've done anything significant these past couple of years but maintain a sedentary job that I feel any graduate could have handled. Nevertheless an experience is what it was and there are definitely things that I have come to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stated in my last post that I would make a serious effort to blog more often and I hope that with these changes that I'm incorporating in my life I manage to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be the change you want to see.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-8522613046556929407?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/8522613046556929407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=8522613046556929407&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/8522613046556929407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/8522613046556929407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/09/full-circle.html' title='Full Circle'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-7015159711526232350</id><published>2009-06-05T04:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T05:20:19.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2007? 2009 &amp; already 6 months gone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.45pt 841.7pt; 	margin:1.25in 1.25in 1.25in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;Yikes! I remember making that last post. I was all in the mood about how I wanted to make 2007 an exciting an prosperous year. Low and behold, a year and a half later we're in 2009 and I'm back to square one. I hate that word.....square one! It happens to me ever too often and I find myself wondering whether I'll ever snap out of it. I wonder if I’ll ever realize who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. That's a pretty universal question, if it we're that easy, we'd all be our own gods wouldn't we? But I guess in my case the focus is always lost along some point. The key obviously is to make sure that your able to sustain it and with a certain sense of killer instinct to see it all the way through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how sometimes things never really pan out the way you want them too. In my case it's really funny, I'm almost 26 years old and nothings panned out the way I wanted too. But complaints aside, I've had some great times, extraordinary times actually and I've had some wonderful people become a part of my life. For that I feel grateful. I guess you got to balance the good with the bad. Yesterday evening, I had lost hope. I thought fuck... I don't want this life. I don't want this job, I don't want to live in this house. I want out... I want something different... I wanted a new life. But that's not just going to happen with a snap of your fingers. In fact, I realized that a long time ago, which brings me back to my earlier point. Once you wake up and realize your suppose to do something or you feel like your capable of doing it, how do you sustain that momentum and enthusiasm of being able to see it through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This by far has been the biggest challenge in life for me till date. I suddenly wake up and I realize that I need to do something, I start out great but somewhere alongst the way I falter and I'm back to 'square one'. God I hate that word....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change.... I've been attempting to do this for a while. I think I've been attempting to change my life so much that I never realized that it had to start from within. There were small little things that I had to do within, that would allow for a brighter landscape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted to do and be so many things in my head... but I never realized that sometimes you have to do those small things first to get the ball rolling... I think success as everyone knows can only be enjoyed when you’re ultimately doing something that you enjoy doing. Success comes in many forms and as my dad rightly says "you reap what you sow" ... which is actually not the best thing to come out from his mouth, considering I'm &lt;b&gt;his &lt;/b&gt;son! But yeah... I remember back in 2000, when I auditioned for this play called Hayavadhana, it was a Girish Karnad play and I was auditioning for one of the leads. I got the part and then practice started. Most people do not actually realize what goes behind the production of a play, I won't deviate too much from what I'm aiming to get at, but yes a lot goes into it and I since I enjoyed rehearsing for it so much, I only really realized how much effort had gone into it when you take a bow at the end of it. Your happy and you feel a certain sense of satisfaction coz you know you worked your ass off for it and you enjoyed it. I think that was one of the first few times I truly felt happy and I enjoyed the success of one of the best plays performed during theatre week that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I continue to type this out, I realize that there are certain things that I need to do to get my act together. I want to know that I at least tried so even if nothing's to come of it, I won't really be all that disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did Gandhi say? Something about being able to change the world only if you affect change from within first? Well that's probably something that I'd like to attempt to do. Not change the world but affect some change from within. Just sorta thinking about my earlier para... I'd like to actually take part in theatre or get in front or behind a camera at some point. There's something about being out on a stage with a theatre full of people perching their eyes on you. It's that feeling of nervousness turned to confidence when you get out there in front of them which is electrifying....You forget about those hundreds of people looking at you and you realize that being a performer and performing walk side by side....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/SikM-YE0dyI/AAAAAAAABJc/mV8C1cxAgFM/s1600-h/lpi571_4-FB%7ERoad-Leading-to-Horizon-Beneath-Blue-Sky-USA-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/SikM-YE0dyI/AAAAAAAABJc/mV8C1cxAgFM/s400/lpi571_4-FB%7ERoad-Leading-to-Horizon-Beneath-Blue-Sky-USA-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343816698605893410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of the nostalgia. Even though I know there's probably only one person who's going to read this on a regular basis ( start fish story) I will sincerely attempt putting my thoughts down on this blog knowing that reading it a couple of years from now will bring a simple and yet genuine smile to my face....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saga continues.....&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-7015159711526232350?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7015159711526232350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=7015159711526232350&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/7015159711526232350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/7015159711526232350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2009/06/2007-2009-already-6-months-gone.html' title='2007? 2009 &amp; already 6 months gone?'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/SikM-YE0dyI/AAAAAAAABJc/mV8C1cxAgFM/s72-c/lpi571_4-FB%7ERoad-Leading-to-Horizon-Beneath-Blue-Sky-USA-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-269143330325676307</id><published>2008-01-09T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T06:13:29.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A lil bit of Retrospect....now that 2007 has gone by.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p face="georgia" class="MsoNormal"&gt;So this years been an interesting year. Suddenly when you come to the end of it your wondering how you got to the end so soon. When I think about things that happened exactly around this time last year, it still seems pretty fresh in my memory, so much so that I can say without using it as an excuse that this year went by pretty quick. I’ve heard this from other people as well and time does seem to be moving by exceptionally fast these days. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyways, hmmm… anyways I had a quiet new years last year wasn’t anything I’d deem as one of those new years to remember. But it brought in the year pretty much like it usually did and I found the days rolling by simply because there doesn’t seem anything uncommon to remember for the first half of the year. Except for the fact that I started realizing pretty late in the day that there needed things to be done in a time I don’t think I was ready enough to start preparing for. It’s getting quiet and I think I’m starting to like it. Needless to say it’s not like I really have very many options but maybe that’s what I guess I’m starting to like. Oh wait, there was a wedding I remember attending which was pretty eventful. . I do remember having a pretty good time considering there was plenty of alcohol involved and that seemed like a priority at that point moving into when I made a trip to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bombay&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Bombay&lt;/st1:city&gt; was a bit of a highlight and a bit of a defining moment as well which lasted a couple of months into coming back and then of course came &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. So yeah a lot did happen pretty soon this year. I’m not getting into what were positive and negative defining moments with those trips but lets just say there was a bit of both.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;All of which have left me in retrospect at this point because you really can’t change a lot of things that were said and done but have nevertheless happened and have a consequence about what probably lies ahead. But I’m hoping and beginning to think that starting to think about what could possibly lie ahead is something that I could and should probably start to take control of. Something I pretty much didn’t do through the year. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I guess whoever says whatever happens, happens for the best is actually full of shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;The General was down for 2 months and we had some pretty wild times. I think a lot of memories will definitely go down there but that’s what usually happens whenever we get together, so I can really say its unexpected. I ended up meeting 4 people from school for the first time in 6 years so I guess some numbers are improving. I actually ended up meeting an ex for an entire day in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;London&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; considering the odds of us ever being in the same city always seems pretty much slim to none. But I guess meeting her brought back memories of feelings I went through when we split up which till date maintains an all time record high on the “How depressed I’ve ever gotten” chart. No but seriously, nobody likes to remember how much pain they’ve been in. It happens when you start to revolve your whole life around that person and you realize she's not the 'one'. What goes around most definitely comes around ;). I did however meet an another ex from school which was really pleasant. Which is ironic by the way considering I had put her in that very same situation at one point in time. Coincidence? I’ve stopped analyzing these things…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;She did however take a photo of me and said it would make a pleasant memory, but I know that she knows the pleasant bit doesn’t go very far.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; was lovely. Mostly surreal for the most bit. I finally made it out to see my sister and nephew and visit of one my best friend’s ‘machismo’. We had a crazy ass time together and that was one of the highlights of the trip and my nephews first birthday. I made a pretty interesting impression on some of my colleagues in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Sandwich&lt;/st1:place&gt;. I think if I make an attempt to keep in touch with someone I could actually make some significant friends and people I could carry whilst I move along what’s to come ahead. I think a lot of what I do this year will tell me where I actually stand and evaluate what I actually want. It could actually be a lot more defining if the important bits I want to happen do take place. We’ll have to give that a shot this year.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Although I would like to think I’ve been underground this year I don’t really think I have been, probably not as much as I actually imagine myself to be this year. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But this years going to be different and I sure as hell will have something positive to write about once I get to the end of it….&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&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/18751474-269143330325676307?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/269143330325676307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=269143330325676307&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/269143330325676307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/269143330325676307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2008/01/lil-bit-of-retrospectnow-that-2007-has.html' title='A lil bit of Retrospect....now that 2007 has gone by.'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-5144752986556140354</id><published>2007-09-06T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T02:00:32.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Sometimes you've got to &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt; in order to gain it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-5144752986556140354?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5144752986556140354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=5144752986556140354&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5144752986556140354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/5144752986556140354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2007/09/sometimes-youve-got-to-l-o-o-s-e-f-o-c.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-158253054618329211</id><published>2007-04-13T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T09:43:14.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/Rh-FoOyCgSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ts8mxPSKfHk/s1600-h/ameri+cado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/Rh-FoOyCgSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ts8mxPSKfHk/s400/ameri+cado.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052904233142223138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE SAFETY HONOUR AND WELFARE OF YOUR COUNTRY COME FIRST ALWAYS AND EVERY TIME&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE HONOUR WELFARE AND COMFORT OF THE MEN YOU COMMAND COME NEXT&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOUR OWN EASE COMFORT AND SAFETY COME LAST ALWAYS AND EVERY TIME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You wanna join the Army?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You better get real...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/18751474-158253054618329211?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/158253054618329211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=158253054618329211&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/158253054618329211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/158253054618329211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2007/04/safety-honour-and-welfare-of-your.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m7gOQU44Mxs/Rh-FoOyCgSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ts8mxPSKfHk/s72-c/ameri+cado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-3069041370981000688</id><published>2007-03-26T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T05:52:28.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;A wise  man once said every society is  judged by how it treats it's least  fortunate amongst them. This is a pretty damn good example of where I come from. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;We dont treat em very well...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-3069041370981000688?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3069041370981000688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=3069041370981000688&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/3069041370981000688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/3069041370981000688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2007/03/wise-man-once-said-every-society-is.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-7040869198206737758</id><published>2007-03-26T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T03:51:27.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;You sharpen the human appetite to the point where it can split atoms with its desire; you build egos the size of cathedrals; fiber-optically connect the world to every eager impulse; grease even the dullest dreams with these dollar-green, gold-plated fantasies, until every human becomes an aspiring emperor, becomes his own God... and where can you go from there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-7040869198206737758?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7040869198206737758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=7040869198206737758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/7040869198206737758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/7040869198206737758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-sharpen-human-appetite-to-point.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-116946079073248791</id><published>2007-01-22T02:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T03:19:24.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;All things&lt;br /&gt;Rise in the light of the sun&lt;br /&gt;Being&lt;br /&gt;Meaning are many, reason's one&lt;br /&gt;For years&lt;br /&gt;Searching, but too close to see&lt;br /&gt;We're here&lt;br /&gt;And this is where, we're meant to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And born under stars, in eternity&lt;br /&gt;In all that has been, all that is, all to be&lt;br /&gt;A feeling within, still to be fulfilled&lt;br /&gt;Of something inside that can never be killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-116946079073248791?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/116946079073248791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=116946079073248791&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/116946079073248791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/116946079073248791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2007/01/all-things-rise-in-light-of-sun-being.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-116428527667625513</id><published>2006-11-23T04:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T04:37:06.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~Chasing Cars~</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;   We'll do it all  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;every thing  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;on our own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;we don't need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; anything  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;or anyone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i lay here, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i just lay here,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;would you lie with me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; and just forget the world &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;i don't quite know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; how to say  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;how i feel  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;those three words &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;are said too much &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;they're not enough  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i lay here, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i just lay here,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;would you lie with me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; and just forget the world &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;forget what we're told &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; before we get too old &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;show me a garden &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; thats bursting into life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;let's waste time chasing cars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; around our heads &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;i need your grace &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;to remind me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;to find my own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i lay here, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i just lay here,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;would you lie with me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; and just forget the world &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;forget what we're told &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; before we get too old  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;show me a garden &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;thats bursting into life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;all that i am  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;all that i ever was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; its here in your perfect eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; they're all i can see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; i don't know where  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;confused about  how as well &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; just know that these things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; will never change for us at all &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i lay here, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;if i just lay here,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;would you lie with me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt; and just forget the world&lt;br /&gt;                                              - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often do we come across situations or moments in our lives that can make time stop?&lt;br /&gt;You can plan these moments out in your head but you can never plan or know how your gonna feel. I guess thats why time stops...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;All of our young lives we search for someone to love. Someone that makes us complete. We choose partners and change partners. We dance to a song of heartbreak and hope. All the while wondering if somewhere, somehow, there's someone perfect who might be searching for us...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-116428527667625513?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/116428527667625513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=116428527667625513&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/116428527667625513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/116428527667625513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/11/chasing-cars.html' title='~Chasing Cars~'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115919379919049346</id><published>2006-09-25T07:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T07:16:39.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If there was news, that the world wouldnt be ready to hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would be holding that back...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-115919379919049346?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115919379919049346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115919379919049346&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115919379919049346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115919379919049346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/09/if-there-was-news-that-world-wouldnt.html' title=''/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115805111203424025</id><published>2006-09-12T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T02:40:18.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Banksy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/laugh-now.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/400/laugh-now.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I was thinking to myself the other day that the whole system is essentially fundamentally flawed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I've always debated who gets to decide whats right and whats wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;We need more people like Banksy. What better way to challenge the system than through creativity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="style11"&gt;It's easier to get forgiveness   than permission. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="style11"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="style11"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span class="style11"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Leave the house before you find something worth staying in for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;The time of getting fame for your name on its own is over. Artwork that is only about wanting to be famous will never make you famous. Any fame is a by-product of making something that means something. You don't go to a restaurant and order a meal because you want to have a shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;For those of you who haven't heard of him, shame on you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&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/18751474-115805111203424025?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115805111203424025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115805111203424025&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115805111203424025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115805111203424025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/09/banksy.html' title='Banksy'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115796194889344681</id><published>2006-09-10T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T04:25:04.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts from my random mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I’ve been thinking about writing all sorts of stuff, but I just haven’t got down to doing it. I had an interesting discussion with a friend of mine over the weekend. We were talking about how old are we? Not us, but our planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me numbers that professionals give us will always be speculative. I don’t think anyone on this planet is able to fully access or give us even anything accurate as to how old this planet actually is. Yes I do find it a little strange that of all the planets in our solar system ours is the only one with life. The time taken to revolve around the sun is 365 ¼ days which constitute a year. The time taken to for the earth to revolve around its own axis is a day. So according to lawsonomy time as recognized by man is merely a record of the number of revolutions made by the Sphere upon which he lives. So we rely on our fellow species to tell us exactly how things work around us. Not just for time, for practically everything else as well. Which is a different issue really but everything we don’t know is someone else’s interpretation of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many of you actually think that dinosaurs look like exactly how they’re portrayed in Jurassic park. Yes a lot of research has gone behind what we call Paleontology but the fact of the matter is no one has a photograph of an actual dinosaur. So no one really knows what one looks like. How much are we to really on our imaginations. Actually that’s the only thing we can rely on. What can we base it on? Exactly how our fellow species defines it out to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look at civilizations. I’m being very general and not going into details. At one point in time, practically each country had its own unique individuality without the influence of anyone else. Now I’m wearing clothes and speaking a language that in all actuality isn’t my own. If people around me in my work place can’t speak English as fluently as me, I actually have a stereo typical view which I’m not very proud of. It seems the course of the world is an interesting one. You take the biggest powerhouse in the world today. They don’t really have what we define as culture. But instead they really are a bunch of people from everywhere else who now constitute they’re one nationality. Their history is really self explanatory. I guess that’s pretty much why they are the biggest powerhouse because actually speaking they are a conglomerate of the world put in one country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember way back in the 3rd grade a teacher asked us what the process of primates turning to humans is called. The answer being evolution she then proceeded to ask us if evolution is a whole process where in primates have evolved into the human species how come this process has stopped. What actually does control this process and how come we’re still not in that process? Another interesting question I remember a teacher asking me way back was to do with extra terrestrial life. Why is it that when we imagine them or portray them, we do it in the most ugliest, disgusting, weirdest form ever? Take alien or species or even E.T. So if they do exist or if we want them to in our movies why haven’t we pictured them in a better light?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right so back to dinosaurs. The reason I’m writing about this is because I’m really confused as to how this whole thing works. Not the technicalities but more in term of events that are in all actuality just supposed to be random but in totality define so many things that concern our lives today. So one day something really crazy happened and dinosaurs just disappeared. It was obviously a random event. With so much speculation no one will actually ever know what happened. Whether an asteroid finished them off or due to a change in atmospheric climate conditions we now live on a planet that was once dominated by their species. So who’s to say none of this cant happen again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I mentioned earlier about the change in atmospheric climate conditions, what I really was talking about was that volcanic activity ceased which means that temperature levels were dropping which ultimately led to oxygen levels dropping. So its difficult for a dinosaur the size of a 10 storied building to get oxygen to all parts of its body. So my point really is the occurrence of random events. Where in no one actually knows what’s going to happen when. What really controls volcanic activity, earthquakes and other natural disasters? The world would definitely be a different place if there was more land than water. It seems like if there were someone who had control over us, every time he felt we were going outta control he’d use a tsunami to tame us. Yes I know, a very silly conception. Though we can monitor when the possibility of an earth quake is about to arise we don’t have time scales in terms of predictability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if the universe is infinite there is an infinite chance of anything and everything happening out there. Including an asteroid headed our way. I’m not really a paranoid person. But I’m more curious in terms of the future. Looking back to what seems like a very colorful history for us and our planet one can’t resist looking ahead either. The fact that the earth has evolved in terms of lifestyles so much in the last 20 years, more than it probably has in the past 200. So how much better does it get? Or do we get stagnant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at the world in which we live in today and probably what it was like 50 years ago, I say these are some pretty interesting times to come what with the way technology just seems to be galloping ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a whole bunch of random stuff I wanted to post. But it’s a little scattered at the moment. So ill probably put in another post later or simply just update this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some food for thought, one of the revelations that hit me when I was having that conversation with my friend was, was the fact that how do we know that the human species wasn’t wiped out and started all over again. In all honesty a billion years ago the human species reached the year 5000 was wiped out by an asteroid or natural disaster and then a billion years later they re-evolved to where we are now in the 21st century. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So how old actually are we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia;" align="justify"&gt;It's like that Porsche ad, imagining what it could be like is a poor substitute for knowing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-115796194889344681?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115796194889344681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115796194889344681&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115796194889344681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115796194889344681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/09/thoughts-from-my-random-mind.html' title='Thoughts from my random mind'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115434221853312696</id><published>2006-07-31T03:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T03:36:58.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>部外者</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If you have pleasant memories of the past which turned sour, leave them there. When you have those same elements of that past come by you in the present, keep an open mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Release your mind, search yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Those elements are only meant to be reinforced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Gaijin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; and I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-115434221853312696?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115434221853312696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115434221853312696&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115434221853312696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115434221853312696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/07/blog-post.html' title='部外者'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115270224315026116</id><published>2006-07-12T02:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T04:04:03.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intuition</title><content type='html'>I've always wondered how it works. It is it really luck or a series of random situations and consequences that helps us to develop this extra sensory power. Too many close calls in my past have brought me to believe that it is definitely more than mere coincidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like David Blaine said on one of his shows. The phone rings and you know exactly who it is. Or you're just simply staring at your phone expecting it to ring and a couple of seconds later it does. I was sharing a cigarette with a friend the other day on my balcony when he asked me where my dad was. I said he wasn't home yet and I know when he'd be on the way coz my sister said she'd call when they left. So I knew once she called I'd have to stub the cigarette and head back inside. So we smoked a couple of cigarettes and I wasn't worried in the least bit coz I was expecting her to call. I don't know whether it was random or jus the anticipation of the expectation of that call that made me check. She had sent a message 20 mins ago sayin they were on the way. So we stubbed out and headed back inside. Sure enough my doorbell rings a couple of mins into us steppin back inside. So if id checked my phone a couple of mins later I would have been in the shits considering they weren't expected until a whole lot later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was talking to my Dad about some random person and sure enough we bump into him on the road the next day. The odds of which are definitely slim to none. I was talking to a cousin about a friend of mine who lives in another city, I hang up with him and a couple of mins later my friend calls n I haven't spoken to him in ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the classics that I'd like to deem happened a couple of years ago. I used to sneak out in the middle of the night once in a while to chill with friends. We'd have a quick couple of drinks n then I'd head back coz no matter how adventurous you are the paranoia eventually gets to you. I say paranoia coz in order to enter my room 3 doors have to be opened,the house door, the TV room door and my room door. In order to get to the TV room I have to surpass my parents room. That's the hardest part. Once I'm through the TV room, its the safe zone. Technicalities aside my Dad has always had erratic sleeping habits. Due to the traveling and time differences he many a time wakes up in the middle of the night to watch TV. He chooses to step outta his room coz he doesn't wanna wake my mom. Which doesn't work very well for me. So that night on consuming copious amounts of alcohol I figure I'll slip into my room MI:3 style.&lt;br /&gt;I open door no.1 things seem quiet. On my way past my parent's room I hear a door close. I figure someone's just used the toilet. At this stage the adrenalin kicks into overdrive. In a 10 second dash I find myself behind the room of my door panting real hard when I hear the TV room door open. In a minute the TV is on and my dad is watching the tube. I struggle to imagine how I got away. Its not like I get away with it all the time. I have been caught. But I've definitely escaped more times than I have been caught. What prompted me to leave at that exact time and not a couple of minutes later? Intuition? I'm not quite sure. Yes if id left a couple of minutes before Id have been completely safe. But you can never get enough of a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things in this world that I do not understand. But it's definitely some food for thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-115270224315026116?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115270224315026116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115270224315026116&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115270224315026116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115270224315026116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/07/intuition.html' title='Intuition'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-115148441732902914</id><published>2006-06-28T01:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T00:54:24.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Price of Fame</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was watching an interesting show on the tube last night. It was basically encounters that celebrities had with the paparazzi. I think that the foremost reason that celebrities are famous is solely because of the paparazzi. But is there a line that shouldn't be crossed? I would like to think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Cher as we all know is a passionate singer. Standing out is something she's been able to do with ease. She's on her bike in Malibu when she spots a guy with a camera from across the street. She's obviously visibly upset. So she drives up a lil further and then decides to confront the guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"What the f$#&amp; do you think you're doing? This is not a red carpet premiere or a concert. This is a private place. This is where I live!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;She storms off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Paparazzi remains silent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Cher chooses to come back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Your f$%#ing sick you know that? How can you sleep at night? How do you live with yourself?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Once again Paparazzi remains silent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Cher decides to stomp back again attempting to deliver the last and final blow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Your not a f$%#ing man!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Thinking she's made an impact she finally decides to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Heh heh..... your right Cher.....heh heh.....ure absolutely right..... heh heh... I'm not a man, I'm a f$%#ing richer man now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I'm not sure who had the upper hand in this situation. But 2 things struck me. Yes, if your famous you must already know that your career option does involve intrusions with your private life. Which means you choose to live with this fame primarily because it's the paparazzi and media that actually enhance it. Cher could have driven off. Not confronting that cameraman would have avoided her being on that show. But I would empathize. Your personal time is personal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;There were a host of other celebrities that featured on the show. Frank Sinatra said " Ill break your f$%#ing head" to a camera man outside a restaurant. Tommy Lee assaulted a guy and people were holding Pamela Anderson back. Charlie Sheen got so pissed off that his walking towards the guy with his fists clenched made the cameraman back off and apologize profusely, for the fear of getting beat up. Pierce Brosnan our very own 007 slapped a guy. Shannon Doherty's party got trashed. I guess my point being that celebrity reactions in this sort of fashion can be so amusing that they have triggered of a show named ' The Price of Fame'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;No matter how much we choose to deny it, gossip is always gossip. Most people can never mind their own business. They've got to know what's happening in everyone else's life. So much so, that these famous peoples personal lives are exposed on a whole new level. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie had to flee from one country to another. Visas were denied to journalists who wished to visit Namibia on Jungle Safaris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;As I continue to find corners in circular rooms. I feel that we make these famous people famous. We choose to pry into their personal and public lives. We choose how famous they are and get to be. We are given the choice to actually determine how far they may get. If the whole world decided 50 made shit rhymes, you think he'd be where he is right now? People look for something different and unique that sets them apart from the rest of the crowd. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: georgia;"&gt;There may be so many more people who possess qualities then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;What makes famous people famous?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;People.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;People being millions of masses, thinking with one mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-115148441732902914?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/115148441732902914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=115148441732902914&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115148441732902914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/115148441732902914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/06/price-of-fame.html' title='The Price of Fame'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114906397309849590</id><published>2006-05-31T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T01:26:13.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BRACE YOURSELF - PART I</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tuesday, May 9th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sailor calls me in the evening. I haven't spoken to him in a while and it's a nice surprise. Being in the merchant navy he's in the city 2 maybe 3 times a year. So its always nice catching up with him and having to hear about his escapades at various ports around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I’m passing by in 10 mins, I'll give you a call when I'm downstairs".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure thing, I'll see you soon".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make my way down and looking at me with a big wide grin is none other than Btax. Btax always has this knack for surprise visits. He's done it to me a couple of times before and the best part is I have never had a clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When the fuck did you get here", I walk over and give him a hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today afternoon, I'm here for a week".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what that means". Sailor adds in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can already see the week unfolding. It’s definitely going to be one long week. Whenever Btax is in town you know its gonna get crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're off to the Train Spree for dinner, why don’t you join us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he says dinner he really actually means Drinks with appetizers. Dinner is really outta the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry man, but I've got guests home for dinner. Gimme a call on your way back, we'll meet up for a bit".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We smoke a cigarette and he leaves. I head back upstairs wondering what’s going to happen tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 11:30 my phone rings. It's Btax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you getting out?" His slur and the loud music tell me he's had more to drink than appetizers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah but only for an hour, I've got work tomorrow!". I've got to forewarn him right from the start coz otherwise my boss will have me sleepin with the fishies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We'll see about that", he says with a snarl. Its the same snarl that Agent Smith uses when he tells Neo, "You hear that Mr. Anderson? That is the sound of inevitability" Right before he's gonna get hit by that train. Fortunately Neo escapes. That train has already run me over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car ride is a noisy one till we get to his place. Its one of those rare moments where only one of us is inebriated around the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get there. Sailor is explaining to me why he traded in his old car for the new one he's driving now when Btax says, "You see &lt;i&gt;ScarrsS&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;we'rre&lt;/i&gt; on the 3rd floor. &lt;i&gt;Yourrr&lt;/i&gt; in the basement. You need to get up here".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulls out a 1.75 liter bottle of Jack Daniels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fuck. &lt;/i&gt;That’s a lotta Bourbon.&lt;span style="" lang="IT"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"You know what Btax, I’m already on the freakinn roof" I couldn't fathom the size of that bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulls out the coke, I carry the bottle and sailor takes the glasses. Only that Sailor breaks a glass, Btax drops the ice and I need to take all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first couple of drinks are slow. Your sipping your drink slowly and trying to act civilized. Once Mr. Jack shakes your hand, you know it’s nice to meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast-forward an hour n a half. I’m down 8 whoppers of Jack n Cokes n I’m singing really loudly.&lt;br /&gt;It’s definitely time to leave. Only I look at Btax, Btax looks at me, I look at Sailor and Sailor looks at me. We all look at each other. We crack up hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;Finally after 5 rounds of "we'll leave after this song", I drive Sailors car to my place. I'm at that stage where I haven't completely let go. So the speed limit isn't scary.&lt;br /&gt;I drop myself back and somehow Btax convinces Sailor he'll drive. I cross my fingers, touch some wood and make my way up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slip into my room switch my vaio on and start typing my &lt;a href="http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-are-we-known-by.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt;. I get a glance at the time its 3:00, I'm sleepin with the fishies.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114906397309849590?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114906397309849590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114906397309849590&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906397309849590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906397309849590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/brace-yourself-part-i_114906397309849590.html' title='BRACE YOURSELF - PART I'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114906385599753481</id><published>2006-05-31T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T01:24:16.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BRACE YOURSELF - PART II</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wednesday, May 10th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t you have work today?" is the first thing I hear at half 7 in the morning. Its one of those mornings I really cant wake up on my own. My heads spinning, my mouths dry and I have a funny taste in my mouth. Water, I need shit loads of water. Cold showers are temporary relievers. After which you can feel the effects wearing you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make it to the office. The morning's hard. I manage to squeeze a cigarette in the middle and try to dredge up last night. Looking out the window on the 4th floor I suddenly see a guy on a bike trying to jump the signal. Only he doesn’t see the cop waiting on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I'm not the only one whose gonna have a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drink as much water as I can. I make it to the afternoon which is a whole lot more relaxed. I can’t wait to get home. Before I leave to get home, I get a call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" We're going to Suede Bar tonight. Be ready at 9". &lt;i&gt;Click&lt;/i&gt;. Btax hangs up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get a lil more than an hour to find my bearings till Btax comes to get me. Like I said, cold showers are temporary relievers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax comes to get me with Sailor and Tsar. Tsar no longer spends too much time in this city as his work is concentrated somewhere else. I take well to reacquainting with familiar people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We head there and its reasonably crowded for a Wednesday night. At least I don’t have to squeeze by people saying, "Now, as a question of etiquette - as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch? ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately we make our way to the bar with ease. Jack n cokes for Btax n me, Sailor's on Bacardi and Tsar is on diet coke. Tsar doesn’t drink in this city. He's got his reason and we respect that reason. So there's no questioning his motives. But Tsar outside of this city is a different ball game and since we know this, we don’t question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More often than not, the topic of conversation will always find its way to unmentionables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I’m paranoid about carrying anything on flights", I tell Tsar. He's been traveling up and down between cities for a couple of years now. He's built his confidence. He knows the loopholes. He defines a calculated risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" What about sniffer dogs?" I suddenly have a vision of an Alsatian barking up my ass and all eyes in the airport are on me. Candid camera moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The odds are slim" Tsar reinforces. " They're mostly there when they get a tip off".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 years ago I was traveling alone to Singapore to catch up with a childhood friend. On the way to the airport, I was in a catch-22 situation. Either I could play safe and get rid of what I had on me or I could get on the flight and revel in my notoriety once I got there. I had the same vision of the Alsation grabbing a bite off my rear end. Calculated risk? Not when Cheebai greeted me at the airport with evergreen. I'm glad I chucked it outta the window. Sure enough someone else was going to be notorious on my way back home, I caught site of 3 Labradors before I checked in at Changi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need refills. I make my way to the bar and try to get the bartenders attention. Sitting at the bar is a middle age guy probably in his mid 40's. He's checking his messages. I glance over and then I glance back. I'm not the kinda person to pry into other people's personal lives coz I wouldn’t want anyone to pry into mine, but the guy literally had his phone in my face. Besides which, looking the other way wasn’t going to get us our drinks. He's staring at his phone and the message reads ' How could you do this to me? You used me. I hate you, you promised me you would leave her and the kids'.&lt;br /&gt;My eyebrows perk up. My eyes get big. I'm not quite sure what to think. The guys probably in a mid life crisis, his wife is too busy with the kids n not giving him enough attention. So he's probably buckled in and given into someone who would. Heck, I don’t know. All I know is that Diane Lane's role in Unfaithful is not restricted to women only. This guy was giving me a live act.&lt;br /&gt;" Can we have a repeat of our 3 drinks please" I try to keep a strait face.&lt;br /&gt;The bartender knows what we've been drinking. Its my 3rd time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks at middle-aged guy. " Can I get a double scotch on the rocks". I guess he could use it. He's going to have a long night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get our drinks and head towards the guys. I tell them about my encounter. They crack up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Either which way, he's going to be lonely tonight!" Btax has a cruel sense of humor. None of us can help but agree. I know I shouldn't feel bad for the guy, but I can’t help myself. Sticky situations like those need a lotta work to get out of and your basically screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean while Btax has mysteriously organized for our second round of blue kamikaze’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cheers!" and the drinks disappear as mysteriously as they appear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsar starts to tell us about a trip he's planning to make to Portugal. One hour from Lisbon is a lake around which happy campers are going to rave on for about a week. His description of what he's anticipating to experience makes us all want to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hang around till the bartender tells us its our last order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One more round of blue kamikaze’s", last orders are code for Btax calling the shots. No pun intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nights still young according to our standards. The only difference is I have a balding boss to report to the next day. I call it a night and ask the guys to drop me back. It's difficult to resist the temptation of having the night out. But a fucked up day at work is not the price I am willing to pay. Even though it's still going to be pretty fucked. By the time we reach my place the guys have decided to drive to our French Colony for breakfast. Its a 2 hour drive one way. I do the math. I need my sleep. I bid goodbye to the guys and make my ascent upstairs. Its funny how when your trying to make the least amount of noise getting into your house, you end up making the most. Fortunately I was quick and made a nose dive strait for my room. After a quick change I set the alarm on my sound dock and dive into my blanket of obscurity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daryl Hannah makes for a feisty nurse when she walks down the aisle of that hospital in Kill Bill Vol.1. She's got that sinister smile n she looks ominous with her eye patch. She's whistling a tune I hear. I wake up. My phones been ringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ScarS you awake?" Btax is all frantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"wassup?" i say in a muffled tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you get out?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my watch. It's almost 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you serious?" &lt;i&gt;Click&lt;/i&gt;. Btax hangs up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rest my head back on my pillow and darkness engulfs me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114906385599753481?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114906385599753481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114906385599753481&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906385599753481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906385599753481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/brace-yourself-part-ii_114906385599753481.html' title='BRACE YOURSELF - PART II'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114906367301974972</id><published>2006-05-31T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T01:21:13.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BRACE YOURSELF - PART III</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Thursday, May 11th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine you wake up. Like any other day you do all the routine stuff you usually do in the morning. You brush your teeth, shave, take a shower n then get ready. You grab a bite and your all set to leave. You drive your car outta your building, head strait n then you make a right which heads into the busiest part of town. At first it doesn't seem all that strange. But then you start to look around. There's not a single person in sight. It's half 9, its usually thriving with people and bustling with cars. Except your the only person in the only car on the road. You feel strange so you drive a little further with anticipation. You drive a little more than further and the anticipation turns into anxiety. Anxious you stop the car in the middle of the road, get out and take a 360-degree turn. All you can see is emptiness, which fills you up like how water would the Grand Canyon. What's usually filled with a million people is now only you and you alone. You start to freak out. You start running down the middle of the road looking for signs of life. You run and then you run some more, till your muscles burn and your heart feels like its going to explode through your chest. And then you stop running coz the adrenalin rush has failed to realign your perception. You outstretch your arms, look up into the unknown and shout out loud. You’re waiting for it to hit you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abre Los Ojos.&lt;span style="" lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I think about David Aames's dream in Vanilla Sky. My sound dock wakes me up to the same track that's playing in his dream sequence in the opening scene of the movie. The room that is a whirlpool is my head. With just over 6 hours of sleep in 2 days, you automatically get the volume turned down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sardonic, when on a day like today, a person with a regular 8 hours of sleep would still feel tired after the work I was given to do. I felt like I was breathing smoke. As long as my heart kept thrusting blood to my brain, my body still functioned. After 6 liters of water, 3 cups of black coffee and a couple of whizz breaks to relieve some of the intoxication, I brawl through the first 8 hours of the day to get my work done on time. I smoke the first cigarette I take pleasure in at 4, n with a cup of coffee in my hand I stare outside my 4th floor window lost in oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my phone rings and I see its Btax, I have my speech all ready about the importance of revitalization. When he tells me we're taking a break today. I breathe a sigh of relief. Tomorrow night is Btax's birthday and its a night I know we're going to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We catch a movie in the evening; Btax and Sailor drop me home. I get into bed at about 11. For the first time in a while, I'm almost instantly asleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114906367301974972?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114906367301974972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114906367301974972&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906367301974972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906367301974972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/brace-yourself-part-iii_31.html' title='BRACE YOURSELF - PART III'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114906357027864626</id><published>2006-05-31T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T01:19:30.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BRACE YOURSELF - PART IV</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Friday, May 12th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up around the usual time feeling as though my brains been replaced with a new one. It’s been thoroughly serviced and ready for the weekend. I firmly believe that the only cure/solution to the after effects of alcohol consumption is nothing but sleep. 8 hours of sleep feels like I won a million dollar lottery. On the contrary, I've never won the lottery so it’s more like sleeping for the first time in 3 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is a refreshing change. Feeling that I've been hydrated to normal levels, the day breezes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax has made reservations at the Train Spree for dinner. Again by dinner I mean drinks/appetizers. In all the time that we've known each other, there has seldom been a time when Btax and I have actually gone out to eat a proper meal. Pitching this to him is no point coz even if we decided to go to dinner, it would beer for appetizers, whiskey for the main course and tequila for dessert. Trust me, I do not want to get into what a 3-course meal would sound like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dial sailors number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do we have a cake?" I ask Sailor hoping he's already thought of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, but I was thinking about the same thing. I'll call the hotel and notify them".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing Sailor and I remember. Btax is celebrating his birthday here for the first time in 3 years. I know he'd be disappointed even though he's going to act embarrassed when they bring it out for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our reservation is at half 8. The reason being so early is coz Btax's parents will join us for a brief while. Train Spree has a nice spot on the roof. Elegantly set, its ambience is welcoming. You get a nice view of central parts of the city, something you wouldn’t find in most other hotels. Plus we were fortunate with constant wind. You would expect a nice meal and some good drinks to hit the spot, but alas the food hits a negative low on my scale. I have eaten better food at a roadside dhaba on the outskirts of Delhi. Moreover they do not have an International Liquor License. Which means either you can decide to here pipers playing with a 100 pipers or get rough with Black Dog. Either of which none of us fancied. It was only the next day that we were trying to figure out why we went there in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax, Sailor and I reach first. We're shown to our table. Btax's parents join us shortly. Our neighboring table is a noisy one. A party of 10, they make a market place seem serene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We order our drinks. Hoping that the alcohol will help drown out the ladies shrieking and the men prattling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what's going to happen after a few drinks right?" I ask Btax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" He replies a little tentatively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're gonna wanna make us keep our mouths shut!" I say with furtive smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we fail to understand is the difference between our decibel levels before and after the consumption of intoxicants such as alcohol. With every drink that goes down, you turn the volume up a notch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax smiles back. We're thinking in unison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsar joins us at about half nine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have a sweet lime juice" he tells the waiter that approaches him. Almost immediately Btax's folks look at him as though his flying saucer just pulled in from Mars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You dont drink?" Btax's Dad poses the question quizzically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its a long story Dad, maybe some other time." Btax interrupts before Tsar can explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment of silence ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So who did you vote for Uncle?" I ask Btax's Dad to get the incongruity outta the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax's Dad goes on to tell me that for the past 2 elections who ever he's voted for have lost. So we come to the conclusion that the next time around if he wants the fat lady to win he should vote for the old man. The elections have been the hot topic of conversation over the past week. Since it was so keenly contested, most people have their own individual points of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsar gets his juice and his Btax's folks still have that look of aberration. Maybe its coz Btax, Sailor n I have been ordering drinks every 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parots, GT and his better half walk in at about half 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" You fu-ah, Btax why didn't you tell me it was your birthday" GT notices Btax's folks in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax like a lot of us doesn't like to announce his birthday to the whole world. If people know, good. If they don’t, they'll find out eventually. We don’t subscribe to the, ' Hey its my birthday, you forgot to wish me', scenario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone settles down and we order everyone drinks. GT looks at me and gives me that smile. Its the 'I know you've had 6 drinks smile'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax hands me the menu and asks me to order appetizers. I give him the dumbfounded look. He can’t decide, so now it’s conveniently up to me to order. Which makes it especially difficult since no ones here to eat dinner. I glance up and down the menu 10 times. What we've already ordered is below average and I don’t want the blame for ordering bad food. Besides which I've already convinced them to get 2 orders of food from their low-level restaurant/coffee shop.&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly have a vision that Katrina's hit and we're all stranded atop this hotel. I’m positive the relief supplies of food we're thrown will taste better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;No, not an option.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I place the order for appetizers and direct my attention back to the table. Btax's folks will wanna leave soon, which means we need to get the cake. I only hope the cakes good. It would take something drastic for a hotel like theirs to go wrong with the cake. They have a good spread of desserts at the coffee shop. I convince myself. I let the waiter know and then head to the restroom so I don’t give away the surprise. On relieving myself, I check myself out in the mirror. Sure enough there's a stranger staring back at me. I check to see if I have, 'I've had 6 drinks' written on my face and sure enough I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head back to our table and in a minute the cake arrives. Btax is embarrassed. He's flushed and the whole restaurant's looking at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can we ask them to put the cake in a box, we'll go home and do this" Btax whispers to me on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry mate, no chance" I reply sternly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us get outta our seats and start singing. Sailor n me know its pay back time to the folks on the neighboring table, so we scream out at the top our lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Formalities finished and cake being fed, we bid adieu to Btax's parents. The cake is good and I'm thanking god for small mercies. Almost instantaneously the table's gyrated. From being sophisticated and refined young men we've made ourselves comfortable to being in our backyards. The smokes are being pulled out a whole lot more frequently and the waiters are buzzing around with constant orders for repeats of drinks. When the parents are away, none of us behave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We now owned the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've lost my capacity to drink" GT tells Sailor and me. "It's not like how it used to be".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I empathize with GT. On joining the workforce our version of balance has capsized. Working 5-6 days a week, we look forward to weekends to vent out and our concept of weekends is now tainted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's what happens when you start working" I try to reassure him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm loosing track of whiskies and I’m making his point more evident. GT smiles back and gives me a pat on the shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GT's better half leaves for Hans's place. A place we will grace very shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since most of us have lived/studied/worked/traveled abroad, our topic of conversation starts to delve into travel and places visited. GT starts to tell us about a trip he made to Northern Scotland. Where he vacationed along the Loch Ness. He tells us about a caravan he hired for a lil over 20 pounds a day which about 4 people can use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's damn cheap" I do the exchange rate conversation in my head for each person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah and you can do whatever you want out there, no restrictions".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about the Loch Ness monster, do you think it exists?" I ask him spontaneously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course it does. There are like pictures and sightings and the whole works"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But its not been scientifically proven, its a myth" Tsar butts in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you explain the pictures and sightings then?" GT reemphasizes his stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"None of the evidence is conclusive and all the proof has proven to be elusive” I add trying to gain ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But people have actually seen it!" GT replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I'd like to believe in myths. If there's a slightest hint of a vampire, I'm in. But what is perplexing to me is how old 'Nessie' actually is. People spotted it way back in the 6th century and there have been all sorts of reports on sightings all along the years. So how old is the damn thing then?? I explain my point to GT and he concurs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that don’t mean it does or doesn’t exist!" I exult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not that I do or don’t' believe. It just made for interesting conversation on Indian whiskey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a certain point in the night, I glance at my watch. It reads 11-00. I've lost track of the whiskies gone down and the 3 shots Btax ordered were stiff and unprofessionally made. Its nearing time to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need to get home. I've got something to pick up." Btax sounds as though he's in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you need?" GT asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've got to pick up my bottle of JD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What??!! You've got one more of those?!" I ask envisioning my fatality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, Mortal Kombat use to make for a famous 2-player game. My favorite being Sub zero, I use to practice real hard to get his fatality correct. Its his last finishing move where in he freezes his opponent and upper cuts him to leave him in pieces. Instead Btax being Scorpion has taken off his mask and revealed his skull face that breathes fire, burning me completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you want to go all the way home for that?" GT cant make sense outta the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coz I want JD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I've got a bottle of Chivas at home" GT tries to get a heads up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know Btax. He's the same kid who wouldn’t have ice cream if he dint get his flavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glance over at GT, "Its his birthday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GT nods and submits to what seems to him an illogical conquest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan is to now meet Parots n Btax at Hans's place. With the whiskey down and the time of the night we estimate about 20 mins until we all get there. Tsar stares on. I hate to contemplate the states of people like us through the eyes of a sober entity. Tsar probably thought we'd given into valet awaiting the arrival of our flying saucers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at Sailor's drink. He's almost done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another one?" I wink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sailor nods and I signal for the waiter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another round of drinks please" the slurring hasn’t begun but I can tell its well on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I’m sorry sir, but we've closed the bar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You've got to be kiddin me?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I’m sorry sir but we cant serve you anymore drinks because the bar is closed"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah we know it is, you just said that. But all we really need is one more drink" GT adds in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Call your manager!" Sailors become the captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're ready to leave, it's just one for the road" I try to sound convincing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll talk to the manager" he replies. I guess we no longer owned the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nervous system starts to act up and I make my way to the rest room. On the way to the rest room is a plasma screen playing one of our music channels. I decide to stop on my way back. Conscious of employees staring at me, I use the eyes at the back of my head to keep a strong stand while I watch on. There’s a show on where people are doing exotic things to prove their love to one another. My first thoughts are, people will do anything to get on TV. One of the clips I couldn’t understand was where a girl who dint know how to swim was attempting to wade from one end of a pool to the other with floats attached to the sides of her arms. It’s the same orange floats we use to wear at 5 years old. The catch is, the pool is filled with bricks of ice. Attempting an artic swim when you don’t know how to swim for a supposed love of your life didn't make sense to me at that point in time. In fact it still doesn't. She jumps in and halfway through the water she realizes she's about to drown. She then makes her way to the side and people are attempting to pull her out. Only she doesn’t want to get out. She loves her man so much she's willing to go into hypothermia on t.v.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crack up real hard. It's one of those reflexes, which you just can’t control. The waiters around me are looking at me like I'm in need of alcoholic's anonymous coz I’m past the delirious state. Only they don’t see how ridiculous it was when she completed the swim, her man pulls her out and they have Meatloaf's 'I would do anything for love' playing. I was going to be sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make my way back trying to access the seriousness of the show. I decide to tell the guys about the show when I realize our glasses are still empty. &lt;i&gt;Shit.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The managers a stickler for rules" GT says greeting me back&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lets get the hell outta here" Tsar says. Not drinking the service has pissed him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you tell them we're not coming back?" I ask GT hoping he's used that line for some extra leverage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Didn’t work" he replies spitefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They probably wouldn't need us back. We gave them their business for the month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave nodding our heads instead of the traditional thank you and walk out swearing under our breaths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the portico, we decide that Sailor will ride with Tsar and I'll ride with GT. We leave Sailors car behind and decide to pick it up from the hotel on the way back. We let the valet guy know by showing him our tag and identifying our car. We look deep into his eyes and ask him to remember us. Incase of the unfortunate loss of tag which we hope wouldn’t happen but in any case I’m sure he was gonna remember the Martians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stop over on the way to Hans's to pick up some smokes and coke for the JD. I grab a red bull hoping I have a revitalization of body and mind. Only none of that happens and I can now hear my heart beating outside of my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to Hans's I realize its a couple of minutes past 12. I dial Btax's number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Birthday, you son of a b%&amp;#, so much for being in the same city!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish him and so does GT and soon after we pull in to Hans's. While we're about to enter Hans's, Parot's car pulls up and Btax jumps out. I walk over give him a hug and wish him again. With sufficient ammunition we're about to enter the battlefield. I carry the JD, Sailor carries the coke and Btax wanted a minute coz he was on the phone. We announce our arrival by setting Mr. Jack on the table and shortly after everyone starts to sing for Btax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scan the place like I would in CSI. Glasses and Ice that’s all we need. I fix drinks for us and move over to the side to talk to Sailor. I start to explain the lethality involved with Mr. Jack now. Its sweet, distinct and suddenly tastes a whole lot better than whiskey would with soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've left the port and we've started sailing. I don’t think we're docking anytime soon" Sailors analogies are making more sense to me than A for Apples and B for Balls. I make my way out to the garden to greet some fellow acquaintances and in moments I find myself part of a circle. A circle in which, I must now employ my smoking ethics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spinning a round, I glance over my left shoulder. &lt;i&gt;I swear I saw a white rabbit. Or did I? No, I don’t think I’m following this one this time.&lt;/i&gt; I look at my glass and my drinks suddenly disappeared. I make my way back to fix a drink trying to seem innocuous. I get a glimpse of Sailor and he smiles at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Yeah, we're sailing.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;head to the kitchen to get some ice. Upon entering I see Tsars and Nah talking. I wonder whether to stick around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you prefer going out here or in another city" looks like I’ll be sticking around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that a trick question?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just answer the question"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well that depends"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsar says never mind coz he already knows my answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was traveling to Europe a couple of summers ago, I had to stop in and outta BBay. A second year of mine greeted me at the airport with half a bottle of whiskey and some accessories. After chilling in the suburbs for a while, I asked him our plan of action. He said we were headed to his friends place coz it was his birthday. I was a little apprehensive considering I’m not so great with meeting new people. " Just chill" was all he said. On reaching there I was welcomed by the cutest girl ever who said " Hi I'm Simin, can I get you something to drink?" Which was a first for me actually coz I’ve never felt at home in a place I couldn’t call home. Everyone was real friendly and I had an awesome night. Which has led me to believe that it’s not the place, but the people that make the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to avoid the speech and head outta the kitchen when Btax stops me in my tracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna leave soon" he sounds a little flustered, so I don’t ask him any questions. I tell him we will and fix myself a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find Parots n let him know we're gonna be leaving soon. He says no problem. Now I have to try and get our platoon together coz everyone seems to be fighting different battles. I tell the people I need to and head back to the kitchen for some more ice. This time I encounter GT. He looks like he has, 'I've had 10 drinks', written on his face. We share a laugh and I open the deep freeze. Staring back at me is a cold bottle of beer. When I say cold, I mean sub-zero cold, only its not frozen. I've found my 'one' for the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pop the beer and start to say my Good Bye's and Thank you's. Hans is an impeccable host considering no one thinks twice about anything they wanna do in his pad. The beer starts to bring me back to life. We head back to the hotel coz Sailors car is impounded out there. On the way we decide that I drive Sailor's car, Btax rides with Tsar and Parots will join us at Btax's place. Only I hadn’t anticipated Btax's frame of mind. He some how manages to get a hold of the car tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we reach the hotel, the valet is greeting the Martians with a big smile. Btax is arguing with Sailor and me coz he wants to drive. What's about to happen, I would rather forget. We find ourselves chasing Btax all around the hotel coz he refuses to give us the tag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t you recognize me?" I ask the valet out of breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry sir, no tag, no car" So much for staring deep into his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We settle with Sailor driving, Btax with him and I'm riding with Tsars. I cross my fingers till we get there. Parots joins us at Btax's 10 minutes after we do. With the music blazing, we start to unwind. After a couple of drinks we reach variable states of mind. Being cooped up I start to feel uncomfortable and contemplate our options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How’d ya like to go for a swim?" a light bulb flashes over my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" says everyone in chorus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”Lets head to the beach pad!" I start to envision the cool water soak up my inebriated state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next 15 mins we change up, get all we need and find ourselves on our coastal road. Once we reach there it takes a while to get in coz Vam the caretaker doesnt usually expect anyone at half 3 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know, I’m air borne for a fraction of a second with split-second thoughts in my head before the water swallows me. With just the sound of bubbles of air leaving my mouth, I wade a couple of feet underwater before I emerge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was born again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at Vam and then I look at Mr. Jack. They both smile back and Vam fixes me a drink. Soon after everyone jumps in and like a bunch of loaded up ducks we start to make a lotta noise. From racing laps to staying underwater, we exhaust every man made pool game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Chicken fight time" I announce tryin to be a lil more constructive than feelin sober underwater.&lt;br /&gt;Parots is on my shoulders and Btax is on Tsars. They loose. Next Sailor goes up on Tsars shoulders and they loose as well. We were undefeated, only I pulled something in my back. I crawl out and sit myself in the Jacuzzi. With a drink in hand I start to see twilight fading. I start to hear some birds chirping. I light up. Dawn was coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something eerie about seeing the transition of dusk to dawn. My breathing starts to slow down and the effects of the night are bearing down to take its toll on me. I’m joined by Sailor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've not docked yet" Sailor reminds me. I spin him my cigarette and look at the JD bottle next to me. There were probably 3 drinks left. My stomach starts to growl and I can feel the hunger starting to act up. We clean out the remnants of our 1.75 liter bottle of JD and head to the Sheraton for Breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's a camcorder when you need one?" I ask Btax as we enter the hotel. Dressed in shorts and bathroom slippers, we were a sight for sore eyes. We're shown into the smoking section and ask for our preference for juice like 'normal' people would. I head out to the buffet and load my plate up with cold cuts bacon n sausages. I let the waiter know about the eggs to order and request for the waffles to be sent soon. Considering none of us ever have time to eat in the morning, we give breakfast being the most important meal of the day a whole new meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was pretty damn good!" I slink lower into my seat and light up. The guys agree with me and Sailor and Btax light up as well. After dabbling over certain aspects of the night, we pay the cheque and leave. Tsars drops Sailor and me in Btax’s place and he heads home. Sailor n I do the Carl Lewis sprint to Btax's room hoping to avoid obstacles such as engaging in conversation with conventional people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btax enters the room with a bottle of beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;No fucking way.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We split the beer and he plays my favorite song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cheers" and the three of us start to do our own little jig. Which can really actually be compared to the Kwabena African Tribal dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In moments we're sprawled on the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you have a good birthday" I ask as I get dormant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You bet, do you know how I'm gonna remember this birthday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll remember it every time I open a bottle of JD"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Amen"... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114906357027864626?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114906357027864626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114906357027864626&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906357027864626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114906357027864626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/brace-yourself-part-iv_31.html' title='BRACE YOURSELF - PART IV'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114724689601991570</id><published>2006-05-10T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T00:41:36.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are we known by?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;I believe in a long prolonged derangement of the senses to attain the unknown... Although I live in the subconscious, our pale reason hides the infinite from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;-Jim Morrison&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; was suddenly thinking to myself…. Each one of us goes by a certain name right?After a certain point in time or rather after being reasonably acquainted with a certain person we couldn’t possibly know/identify through any other way. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, if I changed my name tomorrow no one I know would call me by it but someone I met for the first time wouldn’t have a choice. So essentially some people would consider their names only as a form of identification but some people feel it’s a part of who they are. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yes, I personally believe that our names stick/stay with us for, well… probably a lifetime. Now you go watch a movie. A movie played by a certain bunch of actors. All of these actors have their own individualistic names, yet we identify them for what ever character they choose to play and the best part is, its quite aptly suited. Why do we do this? Well yeah, you’re watching a movie after all. It’s not real. What ever said and done, there’s a director behind a camera shouting ”action” to a bunch of people who already have their own individualistic names portraying a certain character they believe they’re doing justice to. I don’t believe I’m the kind of person to debate this sort of thing. It is the very definition of entertainment to us and the people who entertain us go more than just by their names. But my point is, if you knew this person on a personal level playing a character in a certain movie, watching him or her would definitely make for interesting viewing. The surviving members of "The Doors" claim that Val Kilmer &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000174/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;did such a good job playing&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0607186/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Jim Morrison and singing as&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0607186/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jim Morrison that they could not distinguish his voice from the real Morrison's. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like for those guys to see people portray them and Kilmer portray Morrison’s life in a 2-hour feature film.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tomorrow I meet a bunch of people I’ve never seen in my life. They ask me my name. I say ‘ScarS’. Far fetched? Definitely. But they still don’t have a clue of what I go by and will most definitely buy it. Well, at least to a certain extent. So how much do our names play in terms of defining whom we are? Is it something we define on a personal level or something we rely on others to make individualistic impressions of? I guess your reputation must therefore precede you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;So is my name the equivalent to me like how we say table or chair? Or is it something I rely on myself to feel on a personal level? Some people like their names and some people are trying really hard to change them and well half the time I'm sitting in a circular room looking for a corner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: georgia;"&gt;I say it doesn’t matter &lt;i style=""&gt;what&lt;/i&gt; you go by, but rather &lt;i&gt;how&lt;/i&gt; &lt;span style=""&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; go by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/18751474-114724689601991570?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114724689601991570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114724689601991570&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114724689601991570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114724689601991570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-are-we-known-by.html' title='What are we known by?'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114646677078458845</id><published>2006-04-30T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T23:33:09.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections on Train Spotting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I look at my watch, its &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11’oclock&lt;/span&gt; in the morning, its Good Friday. I would have been in bbay 10 hours earlier if I hadn’t gotten bumped off my flight. 10 minutes earlier at the airport and I would have been in Bbay 10 hours earlier. So with 8 hours of waiting 2 hours of sleep, 6 cups of coffee and half a pack of cigarettes and not to mention an upgrade to business class, I try to look out for Dalmo n Vicks. Vicks I’ve seen pretty consistently over the years. Dalmo’s the one I haven’t seen in 5. My phone rings. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can you see a pink hat?” an excited voice at the other end tells me Vicks is lookin for me frantically. Only he’s in the wrong terminal. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I light up. Sure enough 10 mins later I see a pink hat. It’s good to see Vicks. He’s one of those guys who’ll pretty much never change. He was on my first project week with me 6 n a half years ago. 6 n a half years later he’s wearing a pink hat and I’m not in the least bit surprised. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We make our way to the car. Dalmo steps out. We stare at each other for a brief moment.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel that waking up at a different time at a different place has made me a different person. Both of us are asking ourselves, has it really been 5 years? I give Dalmo a hug. God damn, its good to see him. Both of us are pretty sure of the fact that neither of us has changed. It’s a 2 hour drive to Shaharpur, north of BBay. We have good time to catch up before the others get there. I can remember the first half hour into the ride. Getting out of traffic and onto the highway. After which I can tell its scorching outside. I can see miles n miles of barren land interrupted by 30 floor concrete buildings. Dalmo is explaining to me Bbays plans of expansion. Its always fascinating to hear and contrast where Im from to what its like out here. The road ahead is  a silvery mirage of the heat taking a bite of us every inch along the way. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I need cigarettes”. I look at my pack n then I look at Dalmo. We were supposed to pick them up 45 mins ago. Peripheral distraction.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now we were outta the city on the highway with the occasional Paan Shop every couple of miles. Odds of which are 1 in 10 for getting our brand of cigarettes. But we need them and we’re not left with much of a choice. In the next 45 mins Vicks, Dalmo n Me cleaned out every paan shop within a radius of 30 kms. Why did we have to do that? Coz each shop dint have more 10-12 cigarettes a pack. On accumulating 6 packs, we hit the jack pot and cleaned out the last paan shop I ever wanted to see. He gave us a carton.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve felt wired before with no sleep. But not until I saw Dalmo’s cousins pad. It was in the middle of no where. There was no road leading upto it. Just dirt and rocks. We took a right of the highway and headed into what would appear to be the unknown for a good 6-7 km. When we finally made it there, it all made sense to me in some strange little way. Its as simple as ‘ no pain, no gain.’&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It took us about half n hour to scan the whole place. We were pretty sure that once we got in, there was no getting out n there was absolutely no need to. We had a car sent ahead of us with all the supplies we needed. We were set for the next 48 hours. Im not quite sure how to go about explaining what the place was like, coz for me it was pretty much beyond description. 8 bedrooms. An indoor swimming pool, Jacuzzi n Sauna with the works. Dalmo told me the place was decked up with props from James Bond’s Octopus Eye. No shit. There was a lavish garden with a pathway that lead down to a cool water river that flowed around the back. Yes my name was Bond, James 'Let'er Rip' Bond.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Couple of hours later n the others got in. My overwhelming sensation in middle of my chest capsized on being the light at the end of the tunnel.We tossed our conjured laurel wreaths and proclaimed the games begin. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I do not want to go about explaining what we did or what went down in those 48 hours. Good Friday would come to be known as ‘Great Friday’. I no longer felt like I had blood flowing through my veins, 15 of us will now have our own individual tales to tell.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I open my eyes on Sunday morning. I try to think about what happened in 2 days of my life I’d never see again. When you don’t get much sleep, your never really asleep and your never really awake.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;All I get is a slide show of images that are printed in a memory that feels like its been pumping battery acid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Faces, voices, thoughts aloud, blaring music, underwater glimpses, black underwater glimpses, freezing water, hot water, throat burns, permanent shades, sun rise, sun set, gourmet food, white wine, red wine, cheese platters, cocktails, big shots, small shots, bottle swigs, nicotine outbreaks, incessant conversations, indecipherable conversations, inebriated poker, infinite beer, unmentionables and then some more unmentionables.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;I resurrect myself. I look at my wrist, it smarts from a cigarette burn. It’s gonna leave a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;scar&lt;/span&gt;. I look at my watch, its &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11’oclock&lt;/span&gt;. I light up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My thoughts are now with the Tall Man&lt;/span&gt; :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;there is a tall man next to me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;he says, would you like a shot, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah says,  no thanks and tries to take off, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;his shadow is close, his presence is hard,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;what compelled me to stop, ah know not, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;he says, ah do ya cunt, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;this  is mah hand, to deal and sort out, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;dinna open yer mouth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;there's buggers  that cried, cause they dinna get a hit, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;and then there's you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;dinna use,  when the shits on a platter for you to take, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah dinna have time to explain,  or make sense of it all, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;you takes what ah gives, cause yah knows you will  fall, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;a second to jab, a second to feel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;two long, those two seconds,  but thats the deal, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;but when time elapses and the deed is done, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;there is  nothing that matters, under the bloomin sun, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah wonder if all this shits  real, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah wonder why time stops, and then in an instant seems maddening,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah dinna understand what the fuck is happening, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;its become a  generalization, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;out of body, out of mind, boomed out of mah box, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;all ah  really know is that those suits are there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;telling me what ah should wear,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;it seems they determine human nature, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;us thinks thats crap, the world  thinks thats 'culture', &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;when ur here it dinna have significance though,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;all ya wants is too look at the drain, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the one tall man is next too,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;where all the punters poo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah know ah dinna make much sense know,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;even in me own head, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;as do know however, the future i must dread,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;when i come back through the door, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;and have to see and abide by  'culturall' fuckin law, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah will have to fill mah body with this shite,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;to stay where ah am, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;tall man says, sorry mate, ur on ur own, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah  dinna have to think about that, cause thats just the way it is, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;you take  what you get and gives what you gives, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the throb in mah stomach just wont go  away, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;its like a domestic animal gone astray, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;boom, boom, boom, welcome  to oblivion, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah wish thats the way it was, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the pain that comes first and  it does not stop, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;till yer almost there and then it doesnt seem too good,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ahm rambling now, ah dinna know meat from fruit, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the darkness looms but  gets brighter every minute, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;could this be it, am ah being reunited, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;with  the glory of god that ah knew in me ma's womb, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;that shits fuckall and ah  know it now, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the shits worn off and im still stuck in this crudy town,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;dinae give me your redemption, dinna give me your love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;gods a prick  compared to shit, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;all ah wants is the fuckin buzz, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;that feeling that ah  know something is soon replaced by despair, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ah knows jack squat, ah knows  nobody cares, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;about me and mah life, that ah know is my own, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;the worlds  a piece a shite anyway, its getting me down, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;so ahm gonna fuck off now, and  find the needle that is the key, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;to the only world ah understand, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;or  dont, whichever way ya choose, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;tall man, where the fuck are ya, let all hell  break loose.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114646677078458845?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114646677078458845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114646677078458845&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114646677078458845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114646677078458845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/05/reflections-on-train-spotting.html' title='Reflections on Train Spotting'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114491219818427176</id><published>2006-04-12T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T00:13:20.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/d12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/d12.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;D12 almost always came up with some interesting rhymes. I always believed that it wasnt Em who always held them up. They all pretty much made distinct contributions...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;One of my personal fav's...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I been so many places&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I’ve seen so many faces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;But nothing compares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:georgia;" &gt;To these blue and yellow purple hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I’ve climbed the highest mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Once or twice but who’s countin’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;But nothing compares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;To these blue and yellow purple hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/proof.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/proof.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Proof:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Hop hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Hills I hop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Hop two hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;On stilts I walk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Snort ? ? lines that were filled with chalk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Thought it was incredible and can’t ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I wanna roll away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Like a rollerblade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Until my eyes roll back in my skull for days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;And when I’m old and gray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Yeah I’m gonna go for broke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I hope you don’t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Pack up my nose with soap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;*cough cough cough*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Am I supposed to choke?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Had an accident when the trojan broke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Ahh, poor baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Born by whore lady&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Now I’m paying child support&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;(it’s your baby!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's to Proof:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Sittin in my room trippin on shit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;im starin at my mirror n the mirror jus slit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2 pieces 3 pieces 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;mah mirror jus makes them mushies taste sour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;D12's playin i turn the volume up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;suddenly proof's talkin abt chokin up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;starin at this screen made me wanna reminisce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;how D12 always got my head in a mess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; proof's gone coz he got shot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Now D12 aint ever gonna be  so hot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I never thought Toy Soliders was gonna be real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Here's to you proof coz this is how i feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;~R.I.P PROOF~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/18751474-114491219818427176?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114491219818427176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114491219818427176&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114491219818427176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114491219818427176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/04/rip.html' title='R.I.P'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114483332174167754</id><published>2006-04-11T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T02:49:07.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*Getting Nostalgic*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/muwcipic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/muwcipic.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;his picture is the view up on campus that we use to have back in school. Its the lawn between the Art centre and the Multi Purpose Hall, but unfortunately you cant see the Art centre on the right. It was really quite resplendent. I remember sitting on the edge smoking cigarettes with so many people and sharing so many moments. Memories that were tucked away and suddenly triggered back considering I'm going to be in Bombay this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 years. That's one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days. All in a blink. Sometimes its hard to fathom how so much time can go by so soon. But it does and I guess there's really nothing you can do about it. Time is one of those inevitable factors we will never have control of. Of course with the sort of setting I had back then, it was only made more complete with the people that were involved. People I haven't seen in 5 years and will be seeing in a little more than 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;I have waves of emotions flowing through me right now, unable to pin point which one exactly. Most of all I'm nervous and excited. It was different for me being all the way down south and all of them concentrated in Bombay. But it made it all the more extravagant seeing them all after so long with everyone together. There are friends who I have met a couple of times since I graduated. I know what meeting them is going to be like. But meeting people I haven't seen in so long is going to be plain and simple, crazy. All of us being together is going to be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 16 when I first went there. I spent two of those most inexplicable years of my life there. Two years I wouldn't trade for the world. 2 years that changed me and 2 years that made my friends for life. Being 18 back then and almost 23 now has inevitably changed me. But like all unbreakable bonds, it hasn't changed my relationship with people I shared unimaginable times with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 of us drive down 2 hours from Bombay on Friday morning for a weekend filled with madness. Something I could say I have been looking forward to in 5 years and even though its gone by so quickly, it really has been too long. Speaking to friends on the phone getting excited and with all that anticipation, I've been sitting on the edge of this seat for weeks now. I can't believe its finally going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about it now, I realize I am a completely different person when I am with them. I am completely comfortable being me doing and saying the crazy things that I do, that I would otherwise not do in my present set of situations. I feel free and completely inhibition less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I miss that person like hell and it just reemphasizes it more when I hear them saying the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114483332174167754?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114483332174167754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114483332174167754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114483332174167754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114483332174167754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/04/getting-nostalgic.html' title='*Getting Nostalgic*'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114379417454360931</id><published>2006-03-30T21:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T03:15:04.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Superstitions*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Superstition is a set of behaviors that are related to magical thinking, whereby the practitioner believes that the future, or the outcome of certain events, can be influenced by certain specified behaviors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my dashboard only to see that the number of posts I had up on this blog were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13&lt;/span&gt;. Like most people I consider 13 a very unlucky number. I'm not quite sure why though. When I was in school playing cricket Id make sure Id get of 13 quickly, coz of the fear of getting out. Watching the opposition play with someone at 13, I would hope it proved unlucky for them. Of course there are so many more instances where I've seen the number 13 and considered it unlucky. Even though there's a history behind the number being unlucky I draw the difference at a point where even though I don't know why its unlucky, I just simply &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel &lt;/span&gt;it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span name="KonaBody"&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTxt"&gt;The fear of the number 13 is called triskaidekaphobia. Damn, I dint even know a word like that existed. Looking at this paragraph on a whole now and mentioning that number more than once is actually inching me closer to the fear of that word, which is excruciating to pronounce.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much can we actually rely on these superstitions? More so, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why  &lt;/span&gt;do we rely on them and believe in them so much? How significant are they really? I've never asked myself these questions before. Its like the greater forces I believe in that exist. Forces, which cannot be scientifically proved. Something we've never seen touched or heard before, but believe or have faith in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my closest friends the General and I, strongly believe in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;black cats&lt;/span&gt; crossing our path. In our history together and the future that's ahead we never have and never will cross the path of a black cat. When its happened to us before we've just simply waited for someone else to cross that path before us. Yes its mean to pass our bad luck on to someone else. But its the only way we'd get peace of mind. On other occasions in the middle of the night when there's only us on the road, we've taken drastic steps to turn the car around and head another way. Of course with the General around its always tough to handle these sorta situations especially since he's extra paranoid about any colored cat that crosses the road. Something I'll never understand. Black cats, yes. But any colored cat and his incomprehensible ideology, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are other superstitions that give me second thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Sneezing whilst just before leaving . If I sneeze immediately after that its okay. Otherwise I would like to wait a couple of minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Idealistically I wouldnt like to open an umbrella indoors.&lt;br /&gt;How a crow's faeces falling on me can be a good sign, I simply do not get. It makes me feel icky rather than lucky.&lt;br /&gt;I am obsessed with the number 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all...&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Touch Wood  &lt;/span&gt;for everything. If I were to count the number of times I touch wood everyday and for what not, well I'd simply loose count. No wood around and Im tapping my head away.&lt;br /&gt;Im pretty sure if the head option was'nt there id be carrying a piece of wood around with me. Btax and the General do as well, but I guess they're not as drastic as I am.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I do believe that by touching wood, the future or the outcome of certain events can most definitely be influenced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not fully understand why people believe in superstitions. Maybe its a comfort you get out of knowing thats theres a greater good out there looking out for you. Its the comfort we get out of knowing that there is something greater than us that helps determine the consequences we're faced with or the good luck that'll befall us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, I dont think I'll ever know and to me it'll always be one of life's greatest mysteries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114379417454360931?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114379417454360931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114379417454360931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114379417454360931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114379417454360931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/superstitions.html' title='*Superstitions*'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114352028466662451</id><published>2006-03-27T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T20:31:24.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to Stay Alive....</title><content type='html'>I was up till pretty late last night... started drinking and I guess we all know whats happens then.&lt;br /&gt;The problem about stayin up late and drinking is nothing, but worrying about work the next day. Which i had a weird sort of feeling that I would be able to handle. So I party hard and drink hard.. wake up knowing that I am going to get to work on time...... thank god for that..... !&lt;br /&gt;I brush my teeth for 15 mins ... ( I hate bad breath esp after drinking)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to work on time...knowing that I am not super hung over...not hung over at all.. well maybe just a lil wired.....completely capable of working like how I do on any normal day.&lt;br /&gt;and well what do u know... the first question my boss asks me is whether I was drunk last night?  It turns out I reek a half a mile away.&lt;br /&gt;I guess Im going to get a very good recommendation from him now! I wish I had popped in that gum Im chewing right now...... damn.....&lt;br /&gt;everything happens for a reason??? what damn reason is this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the fact that tom Im not supposed to have a boss and be my own someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114352028466662451?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114352028466662451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114352028466662451&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114352028466662451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114352028466662451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/trying-to-stay-alive.html' title='Trying to Stay Alive....'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114331586023159256</id><published>2006-03-25T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T11:44:21.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Choice...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;More than often I always ask myself what if I did something differently back then. Chose something else, took some other path... how different would things be today.&lt;br /&gt;Would I still be asking myself the same questions...&lt;br /&gt;I believe I have no regrets. At the same time there are a lot of things I wish I did differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me it's always been choice. Everything boils down to choice. We are defined by the choices we make. We are where we are because of the choices we've made. So if I chose to do something else, how different would it be today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the whole concept of destiny is concerned, I've never been quite sure what to believe.&lt;br /&gt;Everything happens for a reason. I'm a strong supporter of that. Always have been, always will. This totally contradicts what I've said above in relation to choice.&lt;br /&gt;If some one were to ask me why I believed everything happens for a reason, at this point I would have no answer. I tried to ask myself today the same question, and I told myself that reasons I probably cant understand now, I will later. I have had instances in my life where I felt that it's happened for a reason. Ive met people in my life which I beleive has happened for a reason. But there are a whole lot of other things for which I cannot determine reasons and theres probably a reason why I cant determine that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this sounds so vague and strange but i guess id primarily attribute it to the fact that, I like every other person have made choices. I have made choices that have brought me up to where I am right now. I will continue to make choices that will lead me to god knows where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The reason being we can never see past the choices we don't understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114331586023159256?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114331586023159256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114331586023159256&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114331586023159256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114331586023159256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/choice.html' title='Choice...'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114291813083452455</id><published>2006-03-20T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T22:30:43.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nightmare Inside a Dream...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/nightmare1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/nightmare1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Even though I've been dreaming a lot this year, I never had a nightmare until last night.&lt;br /&gt;I have some really weird and strange dreams but nothing that woke me up scared in a sweat and in the shits. As a kid I remember watching Stephen Kings IT... that Clown scared the hell outta me and I dint sleep to well post that movie. Under 10, when I watched Masters Of the Universe Skeletor made for a frightful villain. I've dreamt about snakes, but that's a different story.&lt;br /&gt;Its been a while since I had my last nightmare and I cant remember seeing anything scary on tv or witnessing or reading about anything remotely scary in the recent past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course now I cant remember too much of it.  But it involved this girl i know and she was definitely not herself. I don't really know her all that well and we've met like a couple of times but we're in touch once in a while and she has the sweetest disposition.&lt;br /&gt;I cant remember how she came to be that way or what the hell entered her but I sure as hell remember we were chilling and the next thing I know, I was trying to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It definitely felt like one of those horror movies like Nightmare on Elm street where I could have had Freddy Kruger on my ass. Or like that Hindi movie Bhoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing was soo real. I actually woke up in a bit of a sweat and I could hear my heart beating fast and loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The empty department store in the middle of the night I was escaping from, nothing Id ever seen in my life but recreated into something that could definitely exist somewhere. Im running as hard as I can inbetween the counters pulling everything down I see to slow her down.&lt;br /&gt;Her face is no more that sweet child like appearance I know. In fact I dont even think its her anymore. Im shouting her name out aloud and I'm running hard..&lt;br /&gt;My hands quiver whilst putting this down.&lt;br /&gt; The next thing I know Im in an apartment running strait for the first door I see and of course she's after me with the sharpest knife I'd ever seen. I know its menacing coz its long its big and its freakin gleaming.&lt;br /&gt; I manage to get behind the door and with all the adrenalin I have left I try to hold it back. Theres some serious pounding of the knife on the door happening and she's hysterically screaming and banging on the door real hard. After all that loud hysterical screaming of hers and the pounding of the knife and the banging, it stops.&lt;br /&gt;Silence.... not a sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wait a while and then I wait some more. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gathering all the guts I have left, I open the door. The apartments empty no one's inside. At this stage im a lil more freaked than I was behind the door. I make my way down stairs.&lt;br /&gt;Its broad day light. Kids are playing around like its a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;I start to search for her frantically down the street and everywhere around, there's just no sight of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I call her. Its her, she's normal again and heading to a friends place which I know is far out. She talks to me like she knows nothing n everythings normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck was that all about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114291813083452455?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114291813083452455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114291813083452455&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114291813083452455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114291813083452455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/nightmare-inside-dream.html' title='A Nightmare Inside a Dream...'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114197795272691996</id><published>2006-03-09T22:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T01:14:24.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lord of......?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/road.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/400/road.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Most people already know what they want to do with their lives. At least most people I know. They go abroad get an education, come back and then work with the family business. Or some people do the same without a family business; instead they get a job abroad and pretty much start working their way up. Being fully content with what they're doing they have some idea where their heading lest they know where they're at and its really not that bad or rather anythin to complain about.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My breed of people adheres to those  who dont have a freakin  clue of what they want to do with their lives. Yes I do have a long term plan but its really quite sketchy at this point considering all the steps that lead up to it are getting steeper...&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So when somebody asks me what Im doing at this point, I have a clear-cut answer which satisfies some steps in order to reach a higher plain. Yes, the higher plain.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as its really easy to talk about , getting there will most definitely prove to be a problem. Why?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I forgot to mention that my breed of people, well, we like to take our lives a quarter of a mile at a time...... so down the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;'8 mile' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;road I dont know whats waiting....&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember every significant movie I saw left a last lasting impression on me. Ever since a kid id leave a movie theatre or if im sittin at home id always wonder what it would be like to lead that life. Or if I read a book same thing... so yeah I wouldnt mind being Michael J. Fox for a day just to get a glimpse of what my future's going to be like........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dreams is really what they are at the end of the day...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But then if you dont have dreams... you dont have anything...&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last movie I saw?&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord of War...&lt;br /&gt;its got nick cage...and its based on some true incidents...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The guy is basically an arms dealer..... who starts out with zilch....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are over 550 million firearms in worldwide circulation. That's one firearm for every twelve people on the planet. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I guess the only question is: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;How do we arm the other 11?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Im not going to answer that coz I jus may be on the 6'o'clock news for the wrong reasons..&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another interesting piece of information I picked up from the movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Of all the weapons in the vast soviet arsenal, nothing was more profitable than Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1947. More commonly known as the AK-47, or Kalashnikov. It's the worlds most popular assault rifle. A weapon all fighters love. An elegantly simple 9 pound amalgamation of forged steel and plywood. It doesn't break, jam, or overheat. It'll shoot whether it's covered in mud or filled with sand. It's so easy, even a child can use it; and they do. The Soviets put the gun on a coin. Mozambique put it on their flag. Since the end of the Cold War, the Kalashnikov has become the Russian people's greatest export. After that comes vodka, caviar, suicidal novelists. One thing's for sure, no one's lining up to buy their cars......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and no... its not a career option for me... its a shout out to check the movie out..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So yeah whatever you choose to get into, you have to know your shit....and if your good at it you'll sure as hell enjoy doing it..... even if that means dealing in arms or sittin on a secluded beach being a part of community isolated from the rest of the world.. and the only thing ure good at is....well, rolling joints.&lt;br /&gt;The point is our eternal search ends at finding something we're so good at doing we'd never think of doing anythin else simply because you have a sense of feeling that you were born to do it (yes these people do exist). That I believe will definitely lead to the happiness we want, where in lies our peace of mind.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of now Im turning out to be the Lord of Dreams.....with the possibilities being endless.... and one dream building on another....... I dont know where Im heading always wondering whats waiting down that road.......&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wonder if the future holds me to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;The Lord of................?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114197795272691996?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114197795272691996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114197795272691996&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114197795272691996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114197795272691996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/lord-of.html' title='The Lord of......?'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114128094794515653</id><published>2006-03-01T22:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T22:50:18.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The World is but a Stage....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;My old theatre group performs this weekend... I think it'll be interesting to watch..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;Not as a part of the audience watching a piece of entertainment...but i guess more in terms of knowing fully well what  goes behind attempting to put up a successful production.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;I miss doing theatre. It was really one the things i truly enjoyed doing and I dont believe ive found anything equivalent that gives you that sort of satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;I guess one of the things i fancied most about theatre were the energy levels that were extracted. Something I'd  probably never experience working a 9-5 job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;Being a part of a theatre group its not always about the actors... you come to see that there are so many people who sweat and toil over a period of time so that a random bunch of people are entertained for over an hour...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;Thats when I realized that if your gonna break your back over something, you might as well enjoy doing it. I met so many people, made a lot of friends and had the greatest of times getting together with every one who was a part of the group. Im pretty sure we're gonna remember some of the stuff we did for a very long period of time. Coz a lot of us ended up entertaining a lot of people off stage rather than on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;I thought id put up this post after the weekend and be my own little critic. But I dont think I'd do that coz it would only reinforce how much I really want to act. Instead I think its better to put this up before, set myself up for a good weekend and come away smiling that I was part of it at some point in time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;I may not be a part of theatre anymore but.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I hold the world but as the world,&lt;br /&gt;A stage where every man must play a part,&lt;br /&gt;And mine a sad one....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&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/18751474-114128094794515653?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114128094794515653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114128094794515653&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114128094794515653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114128094794515653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/03/world-is-but-stage.html' title='The World is but a Stage....'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114060968675108798</id><published>2006-02-22T03:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T04:12:53.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the outside, looking in.</title><content type='html'>I don’t usually go out too much. Ever since I came back 4 years ago I use to abhor going out simply because I had a different definition of fun.&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" face="georgia" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Going out and having fun for me was always being surrounded by a reasonably large group of people and more often than once being the centre of attention ( I was a different person back then). But ever since I came back not according to my own will I believe I’ve changed. For the good or bad I really don’t know, but I’ve changed and some people reinforce that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" face="georgia" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Change is inevitable. Its only when its in your face that you start to think about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:12;"  &gt;Take this weekend for example. After 5 jack n cokes, I can be a good conversationalist, be a good listener, amusing and in some sense of the word, charming (I hope that hasn’t changed).But all that can work differently when you encounter someone from the past. I left and then she did and now we’re back in the same city. I use to be someone else with her and even though the both of us know I’ve changed, I feel strange coz I had something good going on back then. Ironic as it may seem I realized this a long time ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p face="georgia" style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;This used to be my thing. I send myself in, I come out having no regrets. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But with her I dont quite know how to act around her maybe because she already has a preconceived impression.I can never be the person that I was and she’ll never know the person that I am(its not an assumption). So maybe it’s best left where it was. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve also noticed that I’m beginning to start a bit of a trend. Every opportunity that comes by me I keep passing up. Whether its reestablishing past connections or maintaining new ones. I keep messing them up. During the production of a play I once did, I met someone new. At first I dint think to much of it. That’s exactly how I think at first. Seeing as we had a couple of scenes together we were mildly social. I’ve always been a slow starter when it comes to these things. I’ve got my guard up and only let it down only when I’m comfortable. But all that changed over the whole production at the end of which there was some connection we made. I’m not talking about getting into a relationship with her, but just two people who enjoy each others company have a nice laugh and you know something’s running deep. We found it really comfortable to be around each other there was that similar wavelength happening and well I take pride in being able to make a girl smile. I made an impression not consciously but just being me and being me after my 5 drinks. The play got over and I dint keep in touch. I feel bad about the whole thing and wished I had. Why do I feel bad? Coz she was smart, really pretty, two years older than me and she told me she found me charming. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Damn, I need to erase and rewind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason. May be you wont understand that reason now and somewhere down the line it’ll make sense. Some of it I get, the rest well “what a load of crock”!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are so many more instances and relationships that have left me scarred. I tell myself not to have any regrets. I don’t think I do (maybe some minor ones).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;But maybe I need to say “&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Abre Los Ojos ScarS&lt;/span&gt;”, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;coz every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114060968675108798?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114060968675108798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114060968675108798&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114060968675108798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114060968675108798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/02/on-outside-looking-in.html' title='On the outside, looking in.'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-114014772268857289</id><published>2006-02-16T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T19:42:02.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucid Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/Dream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/Dream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ive been dreaming an exceptional amount this year. Courtesy of quitting a couple of things. But by the time I get to the afternoon, I cant remember them and it pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;Last night after a couple of bc cokes and then bl sodas i came back and crashed. I must've dreamt for like 3 hours strait.&lt;br /&gt;I always used to think that the best part about dreaming is you dont have control of them. So your just pretty much sittin back n watchin the fun. Kinda like a movie.&lt;br /&gt;Then again you must also realize that they may not eventually end up the way you want them to.&lt;br /&gt;For example there was a girl in my dream. Some one who i'd known a while ago. Someone who was mentally stimulating and on the same wave length who I absolutely enjoyed talking to. But I wasnt attracted to her. Thats besides the point. So when I see her after a really long time in my dream I sort imagined a response Id probably get in todays scenario.&lt;br /&gt;Which just means that it was a bit of a nightmare really not a dream coz i dint end up having it the way I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think ive made my point. Or maybe I have. I probably just needed a couple more bl sodas to have it my way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-114014772268857289?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/114014772268857289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=114014772268857289&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114014772268857289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/114014772268857289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/02/lucid-dream.html' title='Lucid Dream'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113990509055681577</id><published>2006-02-14T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T21:25:25.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parallel Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/nightsky1.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/400/nightsky1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;Apparently today marked the day when St.Valentine was killed for marrying lovers secretly because it was against the law. Way back in the 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; century, &lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;under the rule of Emperor Claudius II Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular campaigns. Claudius the Cruel was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"  style="font-size:9;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;Rome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;St.Valentine use to therefore marry people secretly and when they found out they had him beaten to death and his head cut off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; How many of us actually know this story? I dint actually until google told me about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;Well that’s really quite irrelevant considering that I wont be bothered about it today simply because there are no girls in my life in this city that I could possibly share it with. Sad apparently… but true.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;So I thought id take the opportunity to think about some of the girls that have been a part of my life, my parallel universe theory and a weird but strange link between 3 of them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;November, 1999. My first project week out of UWC I really wasn’t sure where I was going to go and whom with. There was this really sweet Sri Lankan girl who befriended me and said there was a whole group of people going to see the Taj Mahal and then head out to Rajashtan. I thought why not? After all the last time I saw the Taj I was literally half my size in height and id never seen Rajasthan. Besides I hadn’t made very many friends by then and it seemed like the perfect opportunity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;There were 13 of us. The group seemed nice and very diverse. After all the ratio of boys to girls was 5:8. So I had absolutely nothing to complain about. Fortunately I knew a couple of the guys already so that made things a whole lot easier. As for the others I was a total and complete stranger. So we set out from Pune to Agra. I’ve been on trips before. Class excursions that were teacher supervised and everything organized. In this case it was a wee bit different. No teachers to supervise and nothing organized. I realized of course that was the best part coz I was 16. I don’t want to write too much about the trip coz then id jus be straying away from what I was originally aiming at. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;She was Austrian. Id noticed her on our way and she was kinda quiet and reserved but every time she smiled the scales on the infatuation and attraction meters in my head were going up a notch. Being me, what did I do? Well I dint say much to her. Really because I find it hard to talk to people I’m attracted to. Not because I don’t have the balls but because I fear ill say something that wont make the impression I want to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All that changed a couple of days later when were in Jaipur one evening. I was in one corner of the supposed garden of the hotel having a smoke when she comes up to me. We start talking. Lots of people have starting problems, but once you get the engine started you know your going to get a lotta mileage. We called it a day at a half past 3 the next morning. Knowing that both of us had struck some cords. Coz towards the end of the night things were getting intimate. Not physically, at least not yet though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;We spent the next day seeing the sights and sounds of what Jaipur had to offer and then the group split up. 4 of us headed strait to Jaisalmer and the others headed to Pushkar to catch the camel fair. The plan was to meet up on the desert safari. Which was a blessing in disguise really. It gave me sometime to think about the situation I was in, where it was heading and what was to become of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;They joined us that evening in the desert. One thing just led to another and well it was extremely cold in the night so we shared a sleeping bag and star gazed at those copious numbers of stars that enclosed us……………….paradise&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;Im not going to emphasize how the next 2 situations came to be unlike the previous coz there was a lot more involved.... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="FONT-FAMILY: georgia"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March, 2001. I found myself in one of the most serious relationships id ever been in. She was from Bombay and she made me feel at the tender age of 17 that she was ‘the one’.&lt;br /&gt;I remember this one night where I found it really hard to sleep. She had these glow stars on the ceiling. Funny thing about glow stars they make the ceiling disappear. I felt a little too elated to sleep. So I opened this little window on her bedside, which let the moonlight in on her face and then I watched her sleep…. .…paradise.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;July, 2004. At the end of&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;one month of my Euro-Trip I fell for someone real hard again. We were in Zurich where there was this huge celebration they have once in 2 years. Fortunately I felt like I was in the right place at the right time. I planned everything perfectly. The timing, how I was going to ask her out and what I was going to give her. All at the end of which she said yes and exactly then, we witnessed the biggest fireworks display we’d ever seen in our lives in each others arms……..paradise.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"&gt;S&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;o what’s the connection? According to my parallel universe theory, since the Universe is infinite there are infinite worlds out there were anything that can happen does happen. You realize that in the eternity of space, there is a planet, just like this one. So basically you could be anything from a movie star to a murderer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Unlike today where i wish otherwise, I remember on all those 3 occasions I felt like I was on the right planet at the right place at the right time in the right universe. Im sure St.Valentine felt the same way for himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"&gt;I&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; still believe in paradise but now at least I know it's not some place you can look for coz it's not where you go it's how you feel for a moment in your life and if you find that moment it lasts forever……………&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Happy Valentines Day to all those people in Paradise.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-113990509055681577?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113990509055681577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113990509055681577&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113990509055681577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113990509055681577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/02/parallel-universe_14.html' title='Parallel Universe'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113956282874039856</id><published>2006-02-09T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T03:14:47.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Acquaintances</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/strangers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/strangers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Its funny how we meet so many people in this world. We end up having so many random conversations with so many random people that it seems really quite insignificant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Im talking about people, the odds of whom we'll see again being slim to none.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The nice part however about blogging is that we can actually make some of it significant by putting it down. Simply because it was a day in your life you'd have completely forgotten about otherwise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ill cut to the chase. On one of my work related trips to Pondicherry I happened to sit next to a young man named Manuel on our big Volvo bus. I’m usually the kind of person who listens to my ipod or reads a book. Never really one to indulge in petty small talk. I noticed him before I got onto the bus and he seemed like the traveler type. Fast forward a little bit and he's sitting next to me on the bus. He seemed like a nice guy with no hang ups.... so I just popped the question of "where you from "? The next thing I know we started talking about all sorts of stuff. Which actually reminds me of a girl back in school.&lt;br /&gt;In my 2 years there we'd only say hi n bye and were formal with each other. But 1 day before she had to graduate and leave I found her sitting alone on some steps at the wee hours of the morning right after our end of year party. Intoxicated and inhibition less the next thing I know we started talking and 3 n half hours had gone by. We realized that we could have been really good friends. We kept in touch for a while after she left....but that’s a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways he was basically a free lance sound engineer who lives in Amsterdam. His first time in India he was down in Andhra Pradesh to shoot a documentary on farmer women. In his experience of 10 days there he told me more about our agricultural culture than I would expect to come to know living here for the rest of my life. It was interesting to have a foreigner tell me the upsides and downsides of the situation in rural farmer villages. I of course had to ask him your typical stereo-type question of "what’s it like seeing India for the first time" ... he wasn’t your typical culture shocked traveler and could relate to because I came to see that he'd traveled an extensive part of the globe including parts of Africa, Latin America a lot of Europe and here n there in the East. Like a lot of Europeans I’ve met he dint fancy the west too much, particularly 'America' . Although his view did change when we went to see his ex-girlfriend. He met some people and got to know them and I guess that influenced his change.&lt;br /&gt;How we started talking about his ex-girlfriend and then mine, I’m still not quite sure. But I’m guessing I should leave that out. Its strange what extents you can reach meeting someone for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him about my Corporate Social Responsibility project and we talked about how so much stuff was affected by the Tsunami. It’s always nice to hear an outsider’s point of view. On a lighter note we found out that both of us had made New Year resolutions. Mine to quit smoking and his to quit drinking. Different life styles, but a lot we could relate to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/amsterdam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/amsterdam.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt; One of the interesting aspects of the conversation was him living in Amsterdam. I took it for granted that he smoked the greens. But he simply responded with " not all people who live in Amsterdam smoke"! When we think of Amsterdam there are only a couple of thoughts that come to our head. The red light areas, the cafes and so on n so forth.. but actually thinking about living there n earning a living. I mean I would consider living there paradise, considering I could walk into a cafe and order a toke of a menu. But how long can you do that for? Considering that most people think of the place has a holiday destination, and well all holidays come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;Well he said that fortunately he lived a little outside the main  part of the city which was more quiet and with a bit of country side and all the trouble makers kept to their touristy zones.But it seems to me that living there would be well....ethereal... of course I wouldn’t know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/masai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 178px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/masai.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pop out my phone coz I've got a message. Next thing I know we're talking about how dependent we are on them and that we couldn’t imagine a world without it....&lt;br /&gt;He narrated a funny incident to me.... he was filming a documentary in Africa with TheMasai.. a tribal group which most people relate to with the drinking of cows blood... so theywere traveling with a bunch of them.. when they suddenly reached a water source... and voila... one of them pops out a cell phone.... only to let the rest of the tribe know where else they can get water.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was by far one of the most interesting of my many trips to our known French Colony...&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the journey we parted ways without email addresses or phone numbers but with big smiles on our faces knowing that it was one of the better 2 hour bus journey's we've had. Only to wonder whether our paths will ever cross again....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-113956282874039856?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113956282874039856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113956282874039856&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113956282874039856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113956282874039856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/02/random-acquaintances.html' title='Random Acquaintances'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113931886791486572</id><published>2006-02-07T04:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T21:15:14.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats Your Poison?</title><content type='html'>Most people already have a set drink. They go out and they know what want. Simply because they wouldnt want it any other way. I on the other hand have found myself in a dilemma pointing out what exactly i fancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/kingfisher.1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/kingfisher.0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Beer is a standard. I live by it and dont know what i would do without it. I started with it and sure as hell am gonna end with it ...Most people who dont have a taste for beer really dont know what they're missing out on... Im just glad it was the first form of alcohol i ever got drunk on at 15!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/royalstag.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in terms of hard liquor im really not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/royalstag.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/royalstag.4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; At 16 I was the complete whiskey addict. I swore by a certain Royal Stag until I was 18 and it was my standard. I thought from there on I was pretty much the whiskey person. From drinking it strait out to a 3/4th to mixing it with tang .. i lived by it and had the best times with it. I wouldnt change anything only to say that I dont think Ill be able to drink Royal Stag at 22 the way I did when i was 16....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/bacardi.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="214" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/bacardi.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Suddenly theres bacardi . Which ive had a total and complete blast with...&lt;br /&gt;How would i describe it.....well maybe it goes a lil somethin like this.....&lt;br /&gt;"Be, what you wanna be,taking things the way, they come,&lt;br /&gt;nothing is as nice as finding paradise andSippin' on Bacardi Rum.&lt;br /&gt;Living live the easy way,got your way to let it run,nothing is as cool as drifting in the sun light, Sippin' on Bacardi Rum. "&lt;br /&gt;Which I have to admit is an awesome party drink and goes easy on the hangovers.... n ofcourse... like Curtis said..&lt;br /&gt;"Go, go, go, go Go, go, go shortty It's your birthday We gon' party like it's yo birthday We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday And you know we don't give a fuck It's not your birthday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/jackdaniels.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/jackdaniels.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are times i still fancy whiskey, because whiskey is whiskey and once uve developed a taste for it, it'll always come back to haunt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then theres the wine.... white...preferably.....which is a darn good high as well...but it doesnt come in the same category and I just had to add it coz id choose the high any given day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically i start of with a couple of beers, then maybe a redbull vodka to get pumped up n then bacardi n coke to get in the mood.. or whiskey if its scotch or Jack..... and then back to beer coz otherwise ure afraid ure going to get hammered... and well...inevitably.... i never fail to stop wondering how i got back home the next day. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/liquor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/200/liquor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                         So whats my drink?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                                               Im still trying to figure it out.......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-113931886791486572?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113931886791486572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113931886791486572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113931886791486572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113931886791486572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/02/whats-your-poison.html' title='Whats Your Poison?'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113749735885135707</id><published>2006-01-17T01:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T03:59:53.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*The Truth about Nicotine*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/1086673359_cigarettes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="241" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/1086673359_cigarettes.jpg" width="223" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;New Year Resolutions. How many of us actually keep up to them? Well i for one took a resolution that id quit smoking. I remember the first time I held a cigarette in my hand. I was about 16 years old. I proudly put it in my mouth and inhaled hard ( in my mouth of course). I felt like I was in a movie. It was not until later that night a friend of mine showed me what it was like to inhale the smoke. I guess my life changed after that. A little light headed from then on,  it occured to me that these sticks of tobacco and nicotine served quite the purpose of dependency. In the years to come, I never thought about quitting. Especially when your finishing up with school and then your in college. It just became a part of your life and day to day routine. With absolutely no track of many I smoked. Years went by and I somehow finally decided to give myself a break from it. After 6 and a half years of being addicted to nicotine I decided to quit.&lt;br /&gt;Quit the smokes I enjoyed every morning with my cup of coffe. Or on the weekends with beer. With friends or with colleagues. After a good meal, or when its cold. When the rains comin down hard or your on a long drive. Or just a smoke by itself. The smokes that ended up smoking me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;I came to the conclusion, that either i control a cigaretee. Or a cigarette controls me. Considering I hadnt become an avid smoker with people smoking for years on end. I was still addicted and went through all the withdrawal symptoms. Which is actually quite funny when I come to think about it. Smoking is actually a universally accepted drug. Being addicted to something and feeling the effects of not being able to consume it, is really not quite something you expereince in your day to day life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first days are hard. You just wanna say f*** it, I still have a long way to go, whats the point of quitting now? I might as well later. But then you loose the point of it all. It suddenly becomes a challenge. I actually wanted to wait it out and see what the effects of withdrawal symptoms could be like. Stange? But true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest of them all? Irritability. I use to think of myself as a person with a reasonable amount of patience. Well if your a smoker quitting smoking, your short tempered. Drop of a hat i could just feel my blood boil for things quite trivial. People I could never get upset with, I did.&lt;br /&gt;Its tough. But it subsides I guess. You cant stay irritated all your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hunger. I discovered a new found appetite I never had before. I just couldnt stop eating for the first week or so. But that passes as well, once you realize your pants are getting a little tighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insomnia. I guess Im still combatting it. First couple of weeks I found myself waking up 3-4 times a night. It takes a while to sleep. But if you do something really exhausting during the day, it helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its difficult when you wake up every morning with a cold and a dripping nose. I remember smoking a cigarette on the way to work and the next thing I know my cold dissappears. But after you feel the effects of being a little healthier, a little temporary cold is not to bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ofcourse then theres the headaches. Which will hit you at the most random of times when you least expect it. Your wondering what you did for it? No stress your all chilled out watching the tube and suddenly you feel an ache in your head coming along. Take an asprin ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not hard to quit smoking. If you can survive the first couple of weeks, trust me you dont have a problem. Temptation. You gotta be able to handle that. Your in a club where you know ure going to have a couple of drinks. Drinks your used to having with smokes. Its wierd. Its frustrating. But its not something you can get used to. Have a couple more than usual but remember you still dont smoke. Not even for that one night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I want to end up with this. I guess a certain stage where i can start after a significant period of time knowing that I can quit whenever I want to.&lt;br /&gt;That its all upto me. Not those nicotine sticks. A stage where I meet up with good ol buddies after a long while and smoke a cigg with them for old times, knowing fully well when I wake up the next day Im not addicted to nicotine. Social smoking is'nt a bad thing. I guess there are 2 ways to look at it. Your a social smoker because your out with friends. Everyone's doing it so you decide, heck, why not? I'd lik&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/seven-cigarettes.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="302" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/320/seven-cigarettes.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;e to beleive I could be a veteran social smoker. Enjoy a cigg when you reach a highlight in the night. A night you feel you dont come across ever to often and you say" hey it deserves a smoke"?! Who better to enjoy it with, than some real close buds? Well if your the kind to have those nights every weekend, Im sorry I dont have a solution to that you might as well smoke like a smoker.&lt;br /&gt;At this stage I dont have those nights too often so i guess id like to savour it whilst i can.&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately for me, either you smoke properly. Or you dont smoke. Or you smoke once in 2-3 months(if your capable).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smoke whenever Im in a differnt city than home. Which doesnt happen to often. Maybe 2-3 times a year. Outskirts and close driveable distances dont count ;)&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line. You know what it feels like. You know what its like to be addicted. You know whats it like to be not.&lt;br /&gt;Weigh the damn thing out and I guess you'll come to a logical conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whichever way you chose to do it, make sure you enjoy it and dont regret it ~&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/18751474-113749735885135707?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113749735885135707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113749735885135707&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113749735885135707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113749735885135707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2006/01/truth-about-nicotine.html' title='*The Truth about Nicotine*'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113151777239257261</id><published>2005-11-08T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T22:29:32.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarter-Life-Crisis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/vanillasky2.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/400/vanillasky2.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now. You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, mean or insincere but that they are as confused as you. You look at your job and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;One-night-stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself...and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;"I bend but I do not break."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-113151777239257261?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113151777239257261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113151777239257261&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113151777239257261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113151777239257261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2005/11/quarter-life-crisis.html' title='Quarter-Life-Crisis'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18751474.post-113150918509231535</id><published>2005-11-08T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T21:12:09.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~*G-UNIT**~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/1600/G-Unit_002.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5595/1842/400/G-Unit_002.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This first post goes out to certain ppl....for all the shit we've been through.. and for still surviving....wherever the future takes us... we're gonna be there.. and most of all.. we gonna be in it together....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking, that even though 3 years can go by really fast.. a lot can happen as well...&lt;br /&gt;Stuff that we never thought we'd get into ... and stuff we wanted to get into...&lt;br /&gt;It was most definitely the start...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the first time for gettin pulled over for speeding to midnight supposed blood tests... to the start of a 'new' year... a lot has gone down....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats important to note is.. i always had one person by my side...&lt;br /&gt;The General.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the start bro, coz i aint seeing no end comin anytime soon...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18751474-113150918509231535?l=venxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/feeds/113150918509231535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18751474&amp;postID=113150918509231535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113150918509231535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18751474/posts/default/113150918509231535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://venxx.blogspot.com/2005/11/g-unit.html' title='~*G-UNIT**~'/><author><name>ScarS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12720395481006950839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
