<?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-23041244</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:13:58.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess of Atlantis</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-1186157346122260652</id><published>2008-05-31T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T21:53:20.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mine I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ccccff;"&gt;Every mirror I look into, a girl with almost perfect features stares right back. Everywhere I walked, I see people looking over. Words of complement had become a part of my life. In my life, all I think about is &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Splatters of horrible word would hit anyone who critics on my whole and flawless &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;. I have confident that most people do not have, that is why &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; surpass all other &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;. Make them envy on my indefectible &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;. 19 years living with my perfect&lt;strong&gt; I&lt;/strong&gt;, 19 years thinking that mine &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; is perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19... years of my perfection finally creases... 19 years… it is 19 years later that I realize that my wonderful &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; is unrefined. Mine &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; did not break nor was it covered with dirt. My &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;, never had a chance to be scratch, dirtied, or be broken, I never allowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of my selfishness my &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; never get a chance to be patched, cleaned, or pieced back. When I look at other people’s &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;, It is imperfection that I see, but it is because of those imperfection that makes them flawless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today as I stare at the mirror and smashed that absolute &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;, broke it and fixed my&lt;strong&gt; I&lt;/strong&gt; back. Looking at that imperfect &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;. I smiled to myself, because I have learned to see my flaws and accept it. I have also learned that I should not judge other &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have learned, I hope I am not too late to fit my I with other I…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-1186157346122260652?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/1186157346122260652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=1186157346122260652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/1186157346122260652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/1186157346122260652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/mine-i.html' title='Mine I'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-2630100476106014569</id><published>2007-08-19T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T18:09:43.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A girl I know too well to love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;[Please note that I am a female writer but I am no lesbian It’s just a story]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Lover to all guys! Even Casanova the great would have fallen for her. Mother nature had been so kind in giving her, a body so well shaped that even Lucia would have crave for it. A brain so witty, that if she sat beside Friedrich Nietzsche, he would have trouble countering her speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She plays her show so well that no one would have doubted her. A mask of a hundred face. She is well loved by all her mates and seen as good role models to elders. I would consider myself lucky to have her review her plays to me. A girl so talented would have easily charmed many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which was true but not one was ever more than a friend to her... Or was I wrong to say that? Many beg earnestly to long for her but not one have own her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tucks at the string of her parapets when she sees them going astray. Leaving those who are so devoted to her aside. Adding to her collection she charms them all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gives them a little of what they long for and waved them tales of the promised never land. She hurts them badly then heals them with love. For she knows what is best for her wonderfully structured play. To keep them hating her but loved her all the more for her contradicting self. Or was it they who are contradicting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen too much of it. I would like to hate her and leave her. Expose her of all her doing. Tear apart her unsightly mask. Throw her on streets to be condemned. Make her feel worthless and rather dead then living. I hate that b.i.t.c.h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am trap, I am a parapet of hers longing for her to be my only one. Hate her so much, but I am still waiting for her to fulfill her sweet nothing that she once whispered to me... She hurt me so bad but I am still waiting... Hoping that one-day she would turn to me and tell me that I would be her most favorite and that she would give up all the others for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know her too well to love her, if only I was just starting to like her. But it’s been too long to stop too many sacrifices made to turn back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trap.&lt;br /&gt;I know I am.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't attempt to leave...&lt;br /&gt;And I know&lt;br /&gt;She wouldn't attempt to love me...&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/23041244-2630100476106014569?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/2630100476106014569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=2630100476106014569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/2630100476106014569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/2630100476106014569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2007/08/girl-i-know-too-well-to-love.html' title='A girl I know too well to love'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-6739655255155867145</id><published>2007-03-11T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T06:47:37.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My belief...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This is not a story but I thought it’s more suitable to be put in my story blog then my life blog. I went for band today and sir told us life is not as simple as it use to be...he says that now the path is not as easy to walk as it use to be, there are many stones and glass on your path so you must be very careful. I gave it some thought think about all who crossed my life. After some time I felt angry with myself. Reason? I can’t answer my own questions. I went home but I didn’t enter my house, instead I just sat at the stairs and run through my mind. I felt so restless at the point of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who should I trust?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;How would I know if I made the right decision?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have an aim in life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this years all the advice that people gave me... were they for the shake of my well-being or was is just to intimidate me so they could out shine me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I questioned my own principles. I can’t help it... I mean I am taught that when some one scolds you it means that you must have gone wrong somewhere and you should change so that you can be a better person. Isn’t that what you have learn when you where younger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again I asked myself who determines if I am a good person or a bad person? God? Law? My friends? My parents? Society? Or...me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sir told me the set of values that my parents taught me is the most valuable things and I should never lose them... but I some times I don’t see my parents following the principles that they taught me... so does it means that they are wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked through my life and ask myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I do myself justice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t answer them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People with confidence would never question themselves the way I do. I wonder where did they get all their confidence from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The set of values that they held on and followed so truly to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or was it their pride and their desire to portray themselves how they want others to see them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren’t they afraid of other people showing dislike to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did try to portray myself how I want people to think of me. People and told me these. “Don’t always think what you do is right”, “you can never do that” and of coz many more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are those things that are said meant to make me grow and learn, or are they just spikes on the grounds that are trying to intimidate me from walking forward?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t judge...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was I really too arrogant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was my belief wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or are they just jealous of me and they are trying to push me off my stand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this sounds ironic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how long I stayed there just staring into the sky just thinking of all these... but I fell a sleep after that... woke up and I went home continued sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up I went online and I saw my wise owl online. I told him what I was thinking. And he told me this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as you follow your set of principles and believed in them you will never lose your way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only two kinds of people. Those who trusted everyone and those who never trusted anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was the one who never trusted any one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I on the other hand trusted everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I gave it some thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who never trust anyone: never experience trust, will never get hurt by others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who trusted everyone: gets hurt, experience trust.&lt;br /&gt;I weight them... thought about it...[I don’t think anyone will have the perfect answer to my questions... I know my answer is not perfect either... but I guess it’s one of the better answer I can think of...] and I still picked the second one. [Even though I would be injured time and again, scars all over...at least at the end of my life I know I have learn and I would be have memories, a story for every scar and a gratitude for every unhurt part of my body... I want to experience life...go through them...and learn to love every part of them... I know it’s hard I know I might sound crazy... but I choose to live my life this way... *smiles*] I guess I was just lost on the way. I’ve decided to place this entry on my story blog because I am sure I will be lost again many time in the future. If I’m ever lost again at least I would have a reference to keep my belief strong and going...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-6739655255155867145?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/6739655255155867145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=6739655255155867145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/6739655255155867145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/6739655255155867145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-belief.html' title='My belief...'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-603106593198985155</id><published>2007-02-02T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T22:09:08.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love... love is at once the purist and simplest, most intense and most powerful of emotions. Love is dynamic, evolving, ebbing, and flowing like some irresistible highs of ecstasy. Love can push us into the deepest darkest despair, and give us strength and inner peace. Love can distract us, make us unable to work, unable to focus, unable to draw pleasure from life. Most of us know precious little about love. Why we express love the way we do, or how to love...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love is too profound and expansive to be defined&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Most of us cannot define love but we know it when we fell it and we know even more clearly when we lose it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If we, as humans, do not love, we are not complete in life. To be loved and to give love is the very essence of life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Each human has a unique pattern of loving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;by:  Earl naumann&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-603106593198985155?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/603106593198985155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=603106593198985155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/603106593198985155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/603106593198985155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2007/02/love.html' title='Love...'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-8165606868015564620</id><published>2007-01-20T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T22:56:15.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Undiscovered</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don’t know where I am going.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what I am doing.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be good at something,&lt;br /&gt;but I don’t know what it is I can be good at.&lt;br /&gt;I know I can be good at something,&lt;br /&gt;but I just don’t know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;I know I can be really good at something,&lt;br /&gt;but I haven’t got it just right yet.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t found, well at least not yet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am not lost I am just undiscovered...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Inspired by James morrison’s interview with teenage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-8165606868015564620?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8165606868015564620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=8165606868015564620' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/8165606868015564620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/8165606868015564620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2007/01/undiscovered.html' title='Undiscovered'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-8923532399447057992</id><published>2006-12-28T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T07:22:02.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The monster within</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I have always hated dark rooms; it is not the reason that I am afraid of the dark. I have always felt someone was waiting for me in a dark room, especially those with mirrors. Even if it wasn’t a dark room I have always felt it following me. I can’t help it, I know it must have seemed to you like an illusion that I am having. Was it? What was it anyway? I could never tell, and I never tried to find out. I have always been afraid of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young I thought it might be a boogieman, a monster under your bed. As a teen I thought it was some lost sprit wondering, or maybe my ancestors. When I was an adult I simply reason it to the stressful life after effect. I know it’s not god nor is it a devil. God is great and so would never spy on me. The devil is usually represented by red. But I don’t see horns nor do I see evil eyes staring back at me in the dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always at all cost tried to avoid the dark. I slept with lights on. Bath only when someone was home with me, stayed in a single room and avoided moving out of it as far a possible. I covered my blanket all the way to my temple when I am sleeping, had many pillows on my bed and switched on all lights at home when I am alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never liked to look into the mirrors. You must have thought that I am weird; a girl not fond of looking into a mirror often must be ugly beyond thoughts. Or maybe I was wrong, even an ugly girl might still see her self as pretty, isn’t it? After all beauty is in an eye of the beholder. What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I finally found out what was following me all this years. I wasn’t feeling well at all I came home with all those thoughts in my head. They had fully occupied me. As I walked into me room took out my earrings and for a moment, standing at my dressing table staring at the mirror in my room realizing that I had forgotten to switch on my room’s light. I let out a shrieking scream. It’s me along, what a fool I must have seen to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s me who I have been avoiding, all this while I have been trying to get everyone to like me, to be their best friend, a good daughter, a role model, and the top student in school. I have hidden apart of mine self and it will never leave me it keeps haunting me. It had never given up hope on me; trying to reach me at every opportunity it gets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has always been waiting for me. Hopping one day I will accept that part of me. I am the devil of myself. I was the one who plot my whole life out and watched as it plays. When the play fails I would simply rip it apart and plot a show within a show. It is I who I have been so afraid of. Funny, wouldn’t you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was at the age of 14 I had a dream, a nightmare would be a more suitable word to be used at that time. In the dream it was I who killed my self. In my eyes there were hatred, disappointment and a sense of joy, which lurks behind all of the intense animosity. A joy, that it finally got me after all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once came a crossed a saying, “Hatred is the vice of narrow souls; they feed it with all their littleness, and make it the pretext of base tyrannies”. I hated the feeling of being left out. I hated those who are loved and liked by others, and so I plotted my life and kept out the part of me that was unwanted in the dark. Just like a play, the show will always end and when the curtains close, it will always be there for me, just waiting patiently for my retribution.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-8923532399447057992?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/8923532399447057992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=8923532399447057992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/8923532399447057992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/8923532399447057992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2006/12/monster-within.html' title='The monster within'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-6338066216531667199</id><published>2006-12-16T16:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T05:32:40.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sound of death</title><content type='html'>The sound of the dying. The agony of seeing the death. The unspoken, unbroken chain that all human must follow. All that comes well ends well, is that really true? Do you believe in the dead? Well I do. As a death reporter yes. You would never have seen the world as how I would see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dying struggling to survive, screaming, searching for help, hoping someone will reach out and help ease the pain. But most of the time it would be the death who is willing reaching out to ease their pain. At that very moment when they saw him, they who once fought bravely in war were too showing a wary face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sick hoping for a miracle. Maybe tomorrow I might just heal and able to walk. Lying in the hospital bed with all who you know surrounding you, staring at you shaking their heads talking over you like you were not even there. Children bad mouthing you, fighting over property. They wish you were dead. And you know they think that they will be better off with you not in their way. You groan for help but non had reach to you. You finally gave up to him and let go of all the struggling thoughts that kept you alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He who acts as a charisma is being fear by everyone. He who I have never seen or talk to was everyone’s greatest fear of meeting him. When he is content he would save you all pains and suffering, he will take you to a place with no suffering. If he is ever choleric then you will suffer before you die. He will take you soul away, a little everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the greats of all kings must heel to him and obey him in his deathbed. The eyes with an eternal stare. Time has pause for them but not for us. They will never be able to spend another day with us. I have seen many deaths. It is not what you think it is.&lt;br /&gt;Souls are chain with heavy metal and whip at, slaving underneath. Others who had been taken into the hands of god are far better off. What is the point of all the over powering and conquering? At the end of the day you will be able to take nothing with you. You came into the world with nothing and so it’s only fair that when you leave you take nothing with you. The world is a playground when you are there you can play what ever you want and take what ever you desire. But when you leave you must take nothing with you, they must be left behind for the others that comes after you to play with...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-6338066216531667199?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/6338066216531667199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=6338066216531667199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/6338066216531667199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/6338066216531667199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2006/12/sound-of-death.html' title='Sound of death'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-116588180682743313</id><published>2006-12-11T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T16:03:26.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A girl with regrets.....</title><content type='html'>Walking on a path that leads to my biggest mistake ever made. With tears in my eyes and fears in my heart. Every step I take the fear in me grew bigger.Snow falling, landing gently on the forest ground. Is cold but I can hardly feel a thing.I am not sick but my heart's aching, terribly unlike any thing I’ve felt before. It has bee years since I last seen you eye to eye.  I should have never have ask you out on a journey that ends out destiny.My carelessness causes your goodbye. You save me from falling and you left without me.Standing there watching you fall further away from me, loosing you my heart is breaking.Remembering the last word you told me..."I LOVE YOU”. Tears bust out of my eyes,I am sorry I have broken my promise again.... You once said that you would do anything just to make me happy, but now I only ask to see you standing in front of me. I want to see you please...A part of me is missing. If only I have done something quick it would not be you I have been loosing.  You have done so much for me what more could I ask for? You are more than a thank you I will be saying more than a kiss I would be giving, you are more then anything in the world to me, but I’ve never made a point to tell you this...If I would only have stop for a secondor two to tell you how much you mean to me, and yet you still love me without a doubt.I'm sorry... I’m sorry.  Time has pass I have bee patience for so long hoping that you will come back one day and I have been longing for you so much. How could I pretend to be so strong...Not to worry I will live my life to the fullest like how as you were alive.Cause I still love you.           A girl with regrets.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-116588180682743313?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/116588180682743313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=116588180682743313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/116588180682743313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/116588180682743313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2006/12/girl-with-regrets.html' title='A girl with regrets.....'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23041244.post-114093834832748680</id><published>2006-02-25T22:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T15:53:54.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relief in death</title><content type='html'>It was not an accident! I don’t need a lawyer he deserved to die. So what if I didn’t push him down intentionally? Well I am glad I did! He never treated me like a wife not even like a human. Your honor I plead guilty.&lt;br /&gt;Life in jail was much better no more eating from dog bowl sleeping naked on floor and chain on dog lease. My wounds are healing and I am being respected and treated like a human. I am given a space to eat on table I am given meals with side dish. Even though I have to work under hot sun in the garden and wake up very early in the morning to report at the basketball court life was better, being able to see the daylight and feel the warmth of the sun. If I ever need help in anything the sir and madam are always there for me. Better then those fucker who call themselves my family members, who knows I have been mistreated by my husband who demand me to call him lord and to lick his shoes clean everyday after work. He simply just pay them a sum of money and they would tell everyone how good he his treating me giving me the best of every thing and that I am living like a queen in a place.&lt;br /&gt;I just felt sorry for Annabel I know she has been supporting me and trying to get help for me she even got me a lawyer with what little money she had from her work as a bartender, when I told her what had happened. I know I would never be able to return her kindness.&lt;br /&gt;It all happened last Wednesday I manage to escape from him after his friend and him are done with me and was about to buy some beer to enjoy. I saw the coat that he left on the floor with the last bit of strength I manage to grab the coat to cover my sore body and ran out of the house. I didn’t manage to run far enough, he finally caught me and we started fighting on the streets he was beating me and all his friends were cheering him. All I wanted was to free myself from his grip. I gave him the only and last pushed. He fell off the pavement and was knocked by a coming lorry. I felt awesome that this is his fade.&lt;br /&gt;I know I sound evil and ruthless but you will never know how is it like to be treated like animal or objects. I felt ashamed when I see my own reflection. I am too dirty to be worthy of any more love but all will end tomorrow. I am sentence to death tomorrow. I am not afraid I am just too glad that it came I felt a sense of enjoyment finally I am free from all suffering and judgment. I believe that god will never forgive me but even if I were in hell I will still have the sense of peace that I will never get when I am alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23041244-114093834832748680?l=atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/feeds/114093834832748680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23041244&amp;postID=114093834832748680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/114093834832748680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23041244/posts/default/114093834832748680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atlantis-kingdom.blogspot.com/2006/02/relief-in-death.html' title='Relief in death'/><author><name>Staccato</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01540102003117935821</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/90/85/3415809/28484288039602l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
