<?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-36405958</id><updated>2012-01-11T22:06:56.898+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The Naked Truth Of  Something Called "Life" !!!</title><subtitle type='html'>there is nothing specific to talk about in this blog, everything is allowed as long as it is written in a good way and well mannered. 
Hope you'll enjoy it :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-7217295106076425515</id><published>2012-01-11T22:01:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T22:06:56.908+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Titanium. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JRfuAukYTKg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-7217295106076425515?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/7217295106076425515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=7217295106076425515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/7217295106076425515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/7217295106076425515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2012/01/titanium.html' title='Titanium. . .'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/JRfuAukYTKg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-486645927525852382</id><published>2012-01-09T22:13:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T22:14:30.195+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Soon</title><content type='html'>its been a very long time. but i am coming back soon to write on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so see you around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-486645927525852382?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/486645927525852382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=486645927525852382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/486645927525852382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/486645927525852382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2012/01/soon.html' title='Soon'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-5046956845693120109</id><published>2010-06-24T12:59:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T13:05:58.590+03:00</updated><title type='text'>You Lost Me !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/hkwlyDwDc4s&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/hkwlyDwDc4s&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-5046956845693120109?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/5046956845693120109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=5046956845693120109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5046956845693120109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5046956845693120109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-lost-me.html' title='You Lost Me !!!'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-3915165772249180554</id><published>2009-05-03T00:03:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T02:20:52.117+03:00</updated><title type='text'>. . .Time. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;The following article was written on the 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt; of April, just one day after publishing my previous article, and i have kept it in my laptop till this moment. Due to this fact, this article has nothing to do with the comment placed on the previous article. It was a simple coincidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332098087032008754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/Sf9q9aEVMDI/AAAAAAAAACY/Dsz3In_ogpA/s320/Time+(Erik).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Stormy ocean waves slamming the rocky giant mountains on the shore, it's a huge black and white picture hanging on the wall of my bed room, watching it with all the attention I've got, and screening every little detail.&lt;br /&gt;I was so into the picture that I wanted to close my eyes for some time. &lt;br /&gt;Trying to stop time, at least mentally, seeking few moments of peace*, diving into the inner me, or may be into what's left of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Peace! a word that I might need to elaborate about some time in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes, hearing nothing but my breaths, roam around in my mind like a little kid running from one room to the other in a big huge house, seeking something, but doesn’t quite know what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out there in my mind, where it was darker than a mid night in winter, a little thread of light started to show, coming fast towards me, like an express train in a dark tunnel. But they were flashes of what I was thinking about couple of days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; Days go by, through different faces, new or repeated scenarios, same old places haunted with several memories of cheers or tears. Each one of us keeps on walking, some run, in this long, to some it's short, path we call life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet to me, the subject of that "missing thing" is still there. The empty place in the chest. Is this life's all about? Were we suppose to come into this life just to simply eat, grow, study, work, get married, bring kids, grow them up, and the circle goes on and on, till the end where a new change takes place. That would be our death!&lt;br /&gt;Is this what's life all about? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;As I mentioned previously, what is it? What is that thing we lack? Or let me re-phrase, what is that thing that "some" people lack, although they might be considered very "successful" in their careers and/or lives.&lt;br /&gt;Coincidently, a friend of mine was talking somehow something related to this last night, so I thought of sharing my thoughts with him. He said maybe we need love!&lt;br /&gt;I stopped there, started to think, then I realized, I do have love in my life. I do love my family, my friends, specially the close ones, my work, and whatever I do or get involved in. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;But what he meant was the partner's love, a wife. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess a lot believe in the "significant other".  In a fast speed analyzing his words, I thought, a significant other could be anyone, anyone we can call our "soul mate". But in his case someone with a legitimate reason to have sex with!&lt;br /&gt;But no, we definitely can have soul mates, which are not our wives or husbands, and call them our significant other.  But is it really love that we need?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Or in my case, is it love that I really need?&lt;br /&gt;Is it love? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Is it the need to want and be wanted by someone? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Is it the need to be with someone who we would be just simply our selves around them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the need to have someone to tell them or do with them what ever we think of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the need to be with someone who might in a way or another manipulate our feelings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the need to have someone in our lives that we put a lot of hope and way high expectations and then may be one day we would realize that it was all wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the need for someone who would take the chance on a golden tray to hurt our most sincere feelings and threat our self being?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the need for someone who is able break a little of our independent pride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting thrilling term, "Significant other"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it simply due to the fact that a lot around me are getting married?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Why is this all coming into my mind? Was it all because of this call I received this morning from an old friend who was with us in University? She was talking to me and I swear I could tell how happy she was, reminding me of all the childish funny stupid things we've done back then, but it was her phrase that triggered all this. When she simply said: "God, I always think of us every time I see the hanging picture of our group on our graduation ceremony party". Yeah, I do have a copy of that picture. We took that picture so fast, with no pre-planning; suddenly every one of us, boys and girls, left our families, and jumped into the middle of the picture shooting space, with that cheerful innocent smiles and laughter on our faces. Happy with our achievements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were indeed a family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, unconsciously, I was having a little smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering where we've been, what we've been doing, and where we've reached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still with the same question on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes, still in front of that picture, after 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Time!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will need to wait to know the answer.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I need to give it some time.&lt;br /&gt;Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-3915165772249180554?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/3915165772249180554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=3915165772249180554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/3915165772249180554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/3915165772249180554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2009/05/time.html' title='. . .Time. . .'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/Sf9q9aEVMDI/AAAAAAAAACY/Dsz3In_ogpA/s72-c/Time+(Erik).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-3468778342891592785</id><published>2009-04-25T23:49:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T00:01:23.238+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Is That It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SfN33B-9C5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/LcpCndiv6XM/s1600-h/Life(LightKnight).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328734571418422162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SfN33B-9C5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/LcpCndiv6XM/s320/Life(LightKnight).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I wake up in the morning, wash up, wear my semi-formal clothes and go to work. There, I try to do my best, have a smile on my face even if I wasn't OK, make sure that I listen to who ever talks to me even if I really hate the person, if I could I would perform extra work or help those who need it. If there was nothing at all I would go and sit with those who I feel comfortable with or around, we could simply just sit or talk if someone felt like talking. I did my best to somehow innovate in this typical medical field, with its typical routine work. But I couldn’t due to external factors who try to suppress creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I feel something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyways,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back home and spend some time with my lovely mother talking about what so ever, the latest news and up dates about different topics while sharing a cup of tea and maybe a bite or two. Then afterwards prepare my self for a heavy digestable number of lectures due to the fact of me doing my Master's Degree, by going to University.&lt;br /&gt;I take education seriously, try to be committed, dedicated, honest, and hard worker. I get rewarded afterwards through my grades and marks. At those moments I feel I'm achieving something. But again there is that thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back home, sit with my family for a while, have a little dinner, check my emails, read a little, then go to bed, with that something somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On regular bases, I check my little small business that I have started two years ago, and see that somehow it's growing slowly and steadily. Al7amd'Ellah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I have the time, I make sure that I would go to the gym and work out, studying have taken away my commitment to the gym for the sake of education. I would socialize and go out with my buddies (el rabi3) or friends. Yes there is a difference between them! DUH! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But then there is something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read, listen to music, watch movies whenever I had the chance. So I'm fulfilling my hobbies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today while I was in the gym, trying to work out and stop my mind from the roller coaster ride that it has been riding since eight months so far, I suddenly started to think of that "thing" I was feeling in whatever I do. I work, study, socialize, pray, eat healthy and work out when I can, but then what’s next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly started to think, what's next? Am I successful?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don’t think so. Success would be, at least maybe to me and I could be wrong, when someone is on the Top 100 influential people in the world or has won the Nobel prize for what ever he/she has done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So success is way too early for me. Am I satisfied? No.&lt;br /&gt;There is something missing, that has nothing to do with whatever I have achieved or will achieve in future.&lt;br /&gt;It's like this empty space within my chest, like a ball of air.&lt;br /&gt;Is this what's life all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is that thing that is missing?&lt;br /&gt;What is life all about?&lt;br /&gt;Is this it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were young, my parents, I bet along with lots of other parents to their kids, told us that life is so great and nice. We only need to study and grow to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am. This isn't so great to me! In fact it's dull and boring. Or am I still suppose to search while I'm walking in this path they call life!&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;Who knows! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-3468778342891592785?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/3468778342891592785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=3468778342891592785' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/3468778342891592785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/3468778342891592785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-that-it.html' title='Is That It?'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SfN33B-9C5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/LcpCndiv6XM/s72-c/Life(LightKnight).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-5699342896336877578</id><published>2008-11-05T23:11:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T00:09:58.013+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do They . . . ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SRIJstEccjI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hXrxJyMPrzM/s1600-h/Broken+Heart+(Jojo-Flickr).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281577966662194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SRIJstEccjI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hXrxJyMPrzM/s320/Broken+Heart+(Jojo-Flickr).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;They were there, early after noon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Clear sky and an empty place&lt;br /&gt;In front of each other&lt;br /&gt;Only a coffee table in between&lt;br /&gt;One was staring with eyes full of tears and pride&lt;br /&gt;The other was cold, doing nothing but stirring the sugar in that small cup of tea&lt;br /&gt;For an hour, silence was they're favorite language&lt;br /&gt;But then, one spoke another, saying:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Is it me?&lt;br /&gt;Is it you?&lt;br /&gt;Was it something I said?&lt;br /&gt;Or something you did?&lt;br /&gt;Is it someone else?&lt;br /&gt;Or should I just bid?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I can't tell&lt;br /&gt;And it feels like hell&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;If it's me or if it's you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(gasps)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look me in the eye&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what's wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Cause your hand been away for so long&lt;br /&gt;And there's no more "our love song"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel my heartache?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh?&lt;br /&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me it was all fake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was it all a dream?&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm awake&lt;br /&gt;Awake in my own nightmare&lt;br /&gt;Do you think its fare?&lt;br /&gt;After all I've done for you&lt;br /&gt;I thought you would care&lt;br /&gt;Look at you&lt;br /&gt;You don’t even touch my hair&lt;br /&gt;Where is the love ring?&lt;br /&gt;You don’t even wear&lt;br /&gt;Was it all fake?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The talking for hours&lt;br /&gt;The walking on the lake&lt;br /&gt;What about that coffee at the towers?&lt;br /&gt;With "our" favorite cake&lt;br /&gt;Was it all fake?&lt;br /&gt;What about the future plans?&lt;br /&gt;Or was I a point of trans?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just tell me why?&lt;br /&gt;And I'll wake away&lt;br /&gt;But please don’t lie&lt;br /&gt;Please"…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don’t have a reason&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t want you to cry&lt;br /&gt;but i really don’t know why"…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound of weeping …&lt;br /&gt;Runs away. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happened to be there, behind their table, and didn’t mean to listen. I thought in here I would find peace for an hour or two, but I was wrong, I was shocked to what I was listening to. And started to wonder, why? What happened? Why did they break up? Why do people break up?  I want to know why? ... why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-5699342896336877578?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/5699342896336877578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=5699342896336877578' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5699342896336877578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5699342896336877578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-do-they.html' title='Why Do They . . . ?'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SRIJstEccjI/AAAAAAAAABQ/hXrxJyMPrzM/s72-c/Broken+Heart+(Jojo-Flickr).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-8319267505502450107</id><published>2008-07-11T00:00:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:36:22.668+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SHZ5gtZF2lI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTv6YVwNWgE/s1600-h/2420002404_de95e54580.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494420830280274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SHZ5gtZF2lI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTv6YVwNWgE/s320/2420002404_de95e54580.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SHZ4o2U4uLI/AAAAAAAAABA/OLSX4kpljO8/s1600-h/old+friends.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221493461155887282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SHZ4o2U4uLI/AAAAAAAAABA/OLSX4kpljO8/s320/old+friends.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Its was a hot mid-working day last week when I had to go to the Sultan Center, Salmiyah branch, to order something from the "Just Ask" service. I was there, and I had to wait in queue for about 10 minutes, I just couldn't stand still. I had to walk here and there, trying my best to make time goes by faster, as if it would!&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, while I was waiting, two old men, in their early 70's of age, one of them was with a little beard and the other clean shaved and a walking crutch, caught my attention, checking out in the cashier area. They were buying some grocery, and their Indian house boy was accompanying them. The bearded man wanted to push the cart, so he asked the house boy to wait outside beside the car. The crutch man was asking his friend if they bought everything they needed, and this was the dialog (of course it was in Kuwaiti accent):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   "Have we bought everything we need and for the kids?"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Yes, I think you got the list they wrote"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:    "Yeah, right"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Haven't you told me once that you got that sultan center points card?"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:    "Yes, I do have it"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Then why don’t you check how many points you have collected so                                   far?"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:    "Yes I should"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they stood in front of the "The Sultan Center Points" desk, and stared into a little female trainee's face, asked her if it’s the right place to check the points, and showed her the card.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female Staff: "Sir, you got 400 points, which equals around 20 K.D. of purchasing                                              voucher, or anything equivalent"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   "20 K.D. only?, its nothing"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "You can give to whoever"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   "I think I'll just keep for next time grocery"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Or they can pay your mobile bill with it"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   "You're right"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Remember we have mobiles now, not like the old days"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   "Yes, and we have cards to collect points"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man: "Everywhere is air-conditioned"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:    "God, yeah, I remember it very well"&lt;br /&gt;Bearded Man:  "when was it? When we used to sneak out to buy our favorite                                                        chocolate, like 60 years ago?"&lt;br /&gt;Crutch Man:   " yes, 1945"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there they were laughing and smiling at each other, you can tell from their sparkling eyes that they were remembering every piece of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that very moment, I wished I had a camera, to take a snapshot of them while they were laughing. It was obvious that they're friends since those old days they were talking about. They were cherishing every moment, living every minute of it, feeling every heartbeat, tasting every bite of that old chocolate, and they were simply thanking God for those times, for the way they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                              One time someone said:&lt;br /&gt;                                                   "Make new friends, but keep the old;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those are silver, these are gold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;New-made friendships, like new wine,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Age will mellow and refine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Friendships that have stood the test &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Time and change - are surely best;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Friendship never knows decay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For 'mid old friends, tried and true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Once more we our youth renew.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But old friends, alas! may die,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;New friends must their place supply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cherish friendship in your breast-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;New is good, but old is best;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Make new friends, but keep the old;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those are silver, these are gold."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-8319267505502450107?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/8319267505502450107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=8319267505502450107' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8319267505502450107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8319267505502450107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2008/07/old-friends.html' title='Old Friends'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/SHZ5gtZF2lI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTv6YVwNWgE/s72-c/2420002404_de95e54580.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-8732919257894358394</id><published>2008-07-10T00:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T00:15:50.816+03:00</updated><title type='text'>After The Silence . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KOnUngBcZ_I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KOnUngBcZ_I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-8732919257894358394?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/8732919257894358394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=8732919257894358394' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8732919257894358394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8732919257894358394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2008/07/after-silence.html' title='After The Silence . . .'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-5276751776836028350</id><published>2008-01-09T16:23:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:36:22.890+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotional Attachment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/R4TMV41_sWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yADYkzKYESQ/s1600-h/touch_me____by_greg_sowa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153468550026867042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/R4TMV41_sWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yADYkzKYESQ/s320/touch_me____by_greg_sowa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Like every other day, I was jogging on a treadmill in the gym, and all of a sudden my iPod froze. I got my iPod a year ago, where I have more than 500 songs and about 30 videos of my favorite artists. I use it in the gym, in the car, at home, and wherever I need to listen to whatever type of music. I had to stop my work out in the gym; I just can not work out with out music. So I went back home, logged into the internet, and surfed the iPod site for the troubleshooting. But still, I couldn’t fix it. So I drove my car to the iCity workshop, the place to fix iPod and other Apple products, explained what happened to it, and I have been told that they will call me whenever the iPod is fixed. Well, I have received the call, and it turned out to be that my iPod can not be fixed, and that I should buy a new one, my iPod is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, when I handled my iPod, and went back home, I realized something, something that might or could sound pathetic to some people. I was giving my iPod for fixing like a parent holding his little kid in the emergency room (E.R.) don’t know what was wrong with it and just can not accept the reality of it being out of order! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I was emotionally attached to my iPod. This little mp3 device, indirectly, controls my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This made me think of what so called "Emotional Attachment". There are people, places, words, matters, thoughts, or even small little things or devices that can have an impact on us and control our emotions and it could be directly and/or indirectly.&lt;br /&gt;But would this behavior be normal or ok? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it OK to be emotionally attached to someone or something?&lt;br /&gt;Is it OK for that someone or something to manipulate our emotions and/or feelings out of our control? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would that someone or something be worth the attachment and the disturbances that may take place with emotions and feelings?&lt;br /&gt;Do all human beings love it when they're emotionally attached to someone or something?&lt;br /&gt;Or is it part of being an Arab or middle-eastern that would make us naturally easy and at risk to suffer from emotional attachments? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes suffer, for more than 10 days I had to stop going to the gym, simply because I wasn’t in the mood to work out, due to the lack of music. So this is an un-healthy behavior. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, it is important to control our feelings and emotions towards everything in our lives. There are people who passed away because of the loss of their loved ones. They couldn’t go on without the people who shared their lives. So someone could physically die if they lost someone. Others may simply lose their minds if something happened to those they love. And it's all because of the emotional attachment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This untouchable attachment could cause you death or it could simply make you live happily ever after, although nothing last forever!&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/36405958-5276751776836028350?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/5276751776836028350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=5276751776836028350' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5276751776836028350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/5276751776836028350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2008/01/emotional-attachment.html' title='Emotional Attachment'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/R4TMV41_sWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/yADYkzKYESQ/s72-c/touch_me____by_greg_sowa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-8735469974866769092</id><published>2007-08-24T16:04:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:36:23.187+03:00</updated><title type='text'>الإدراك</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/Rs7Y1TSxpmI/AAAAAAAAAAw/mIx2-AQVN_I/s1600-h/Thinking1+(SeaFairy).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102253838081042018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/Rs7Y1TSxpmI/AAAAAAAAAAw/mIx2-AQVN_I/s320/Thinking1+(SeaFairy).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;لطالما كانت هذه الحياة مجموعة من الأفعال و ردود أفعال الناس لبعضهم البعض، سواء كانت هذه الأفعال و ردودها إيجابية أو سلبية، قصيرة المدى أو بعيدة المدى بالنتائج، مؤقتة أو دائمة بالأثر، فإنها تبقى عملية بسيطة كنظرية نيوتن في الفيزياء " لكل فعل ردة فعل يساويه في المقدار و يعاكسه في الإتجاه&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;المغزى هنا إن جزء كبير من هذه الحياة، إن لم تكن كلها، عبارة عن نتائج أفعالنا أو ردود أفعالنا لأفعال الغير، و في هذا الموضوع طرأ في بالي سؤال يتعلق بالإدراك&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الإدراك هي عملية معرفة الشخص للفعل و نتائج الفعل و أثره و أهميته على الغير، بمعنى إذا أدرك الشخص فعلا ما، فإنه على دراية كاملة لما يترتب على هذا الفعل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;إنني هنا أحاول الربط بين موضوعين، الإدراك و التبرير، و هو موضوع مقالتي السابقة، فالكثير من الناس لا تدرك أفعالها و كنتيجة لعدم الإدراك فإنها تفشل بالتبرير. فإن كان الشخص مدركا إدراكا كاملا بما جنته يديه، لكان بإمكانه التبرير و توضيح الدوافع و الأسباب، و بحزم شديد غير قابل للجدال.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;فبعد التفكير المطول لعدم استطاعة الناس للتبرير عن أفعالهم، وجدت الإدراك عاملا في هذا الشيء، إن لم يكن العامل الوحيد. إن هناك فئة من الناس تتصرف دائما بغباء شديد، و حماقة خالصة، و غطرسة عارمة مع الآخرين، من باب معرفتهم بكل شي و كبريائهم المتعالي عن الناس.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;و تكون نتائج أفعالهم مدمرة، و قد تطول أفعالهم لتصل إلى الناس المحيطين فيهم، الراعين بهم و الحامين لهم. و عند السؤال "لماذا عملت هذا" أو "ليش صار جذي" يكون الرد " بس جذي"!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;لو استطاع كل شخص أن ينظر إلى الفعل قبل حدوثه و التفكير فيه ملية (يعني أن يدركه)، لاستطعنا أن نتجنب على الأقل نصف المشاكل و الخلافات التي تحدث لنا أو نمر بها في هذا الحياة الغير دائمة. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;و أنت أيضا، كف عن محاضراتك الدائمة لمعرفتك بكل شي صحيح و كل شي مفروض، و خذ دقيقة للمحاولة بإدراك أمورك و أفعالك، و لا تقول إنها للمصلحة العامة أو انا عارف أو  أعرف أكثر منك، لأنها غالبا ستكون لصالحك أنت فقط&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;و للحديث بقية ... . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-8735469974866769092?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/8735469974866769092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=8735469974866769092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8735469974866769092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/8735469974866769092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2007/08/blog-post.html' title='الإدراك'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/Rs7Y1TSxpmI/AAAAAAAAAAw/mIx2-AQVN_I/s72-c/Thinking1+(SeaFairy).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-7668795918900292360</id><published>2007-08-17T23:56:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:36:23.285+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Justification</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RsYQNzSxplI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UQDUnLo-Cfg/s1600-h/Liar1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099781457336968786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RsYQNzSxplI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UQDUnLo-Cfg/s320/Liar1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Someone once told me that people don’t have to justify their actions. I sort of disliked the idea. But then days and months passed by, and lots of events came and went. Through this time I've been into lots of incidents were I discovered that people, some were close people, have hidden the truth, in fact, they had to lie. Maybe not to me, to others, but they did. The funny part is, it would be less than 24 hours before I discover that they were actually lying about something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started wondering why people lie. If they don’t want to answer a question or reply according to the speech, why don’t they just say "no comments", "it's kind of personal", or "I'll tell you later"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t they know that this counts on how people see each other? Aren't they aware that lying would push away people? Wish they have hidden the truth rather than lying. It would've been accepted. But to lie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should people ask each other why they have lied? Or should we just skip it? And if we did skip it, will we still keep the trust to those people? Or we will unconsciously start withdrawing from being around them?, especially if they were doing it over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justification: the action in which people give reasons why they have done a certain action, in other words, what was the motive to do something to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do people have to justify their actions? Or is it related to the nature of relationship between them? And let's say that people don’t have to justify their actions. How the hell will others know why those did that something? Or those who don’t want to justify would use "freedom of actions" to keep silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think that people avoid justifying their actions because they try to avoid embarrassment. Or so that they won't to reach a conclusion that would bring them as stupid morons and they had no reason to do whatever they have done. So it’s a type of self protection, do a stupid illogical action towards others, lie, then keep silent. And convince your self that you don’t have to justify your pathetic actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, nothing more can be said, guts is all what they lack, besides the lack of self confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you were thinking about the picture, yeah, i know what it says :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-7668795918900292360?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/7668795918900292360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=7668795918900292360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/7668795918900292360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/7668795918900292360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2007/08/justification.html' title='Justification'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RsYQNzSxplI/AAAAAAAAAAo/UQDUnLo-Cfg/s72-c/Liar1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-953031607146318947</id><published>2007-02-04T23:49:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:36:23.461+03:00</updated><title type='text'>How Will it Feel If You Were . . . ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RcZILx5x0vI/AAAAAAAAAAU/snNfgYnXBMM/s1600-h/Old_man_face_by_CONZER(DevianArt).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027785401217176306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RcZILx5x0vI/AAAAAAAAAAU/snNfgYnXBMM/s320/Old_man_face_by_CONZER(DevianArt).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn’t just ignore what got my attention. I had to stop and, with no control, I drifted away with fast flashes of thoughts and wonders. Those lines, the dark and the light ones, made me think. He had lines in the rest of his palm where he was able to tell his destiny. He had lines where you could tell the stories he knew. He had lines that show the experiences he'd been through. He had lines of happiness and sorrows. He had lines that could tell you his life in brief. Lines that he would see if he stood in front of a mirror. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was powerless and quiet and lying there on bed. I am not even sure if he was aware of his surroundings, the busy people around him with white coats and small devices, his crying kids who were praying for him to survive and his one and only life partner he knew in the last 60 years, his wife. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the only thing that he was worried about was if it's going to be easy or if he will suffer through it all. It seemed to me that all that mattered to him is how it will be? What is next? Will it be difficult? Will he be missed?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how people age and turn from being totally independent people to totally dependent on others, even for the smallest silly action you could think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how our present and all the events we go through become simply part of the past and nothing remains but little memories. Or let me say, debris of memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how it feels when you are used to few people being around you 24/7 and then suddenly they're gone. They're not here anymore. You can not call them, you can not talk to them, you can not hear them, you can not see them, you can not feel them, and you can not do anything. As if they were ghosts. As if they were not real people like you and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how it feels when you miss someone so much and you know that there is no way in hell they will be back, and you just wish you had one more chance to tell them how much you really loved them and cared about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how people are so arrogant to care about the beauty of this life we're living and they're so stupid to share it with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how people live their life demanding others to follow their standards and judging others like God on earth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how every single cell in our body grows, develops, divides, and turn into an old cell causing what is called of "Aging".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strange&lt;/em&gt; how after living this life and traveling all over the world, we will eventually rest for ever in a small dark place six feet under, all alone, nothing would rescue us except our accumulated account of sins and virtues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor her. I could see how her eyes filled up with tears, shivering lips, and holding the hand of her beloved husband while he is on the bed of death. I swear I could tell that she was asking her self how she will be able to survive after he's gone, and leave her all alone. Who will listen to her when she wants to complain about the kids?&lt;br /&gt;Who will be her best friend? Life to her seemed at the end. There is nothing left. Why? It's simply because of the death of a beloved person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only one minute when I was there looking at them, I had to go and finish my work. And the day passed fast. It was busy and hectic. But the question remained. If I had one chance to go back in time, what would I do and what would be that I shouldn't have done? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you my dear reader, give it a thought, and add to it, if you were gone, will you be missed? Remembered? Or will you be simply forgotten? And right now, who are those who love you? And who are those who hate you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-953031607146318947?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/953031607146318947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=953031607146318947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/953031607146318947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/953031607146318947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-will-it-feel-if-you-were.html' title='How Will it Feel If You Were . . . ???'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_blLEQEkgH5M/RcZILx5x0vI/AAAAAAAAAAU/snNfgYnXBMM/s72-c/Old_man_face_by_CONZER(DevianArt).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116759273451850149</id><published>2006-12-31T21:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T22:18:54.820+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Check It Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/1600/237548/Sushi2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/320/727945/Sushi2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I appreciate food, specially those tasty ones that you might grave for from time to another. but since long time, Japanese food wasnt ever of my interest. and i HATED sushi. i hated the way it looked, i hated the way it would smell, i hated the way they would present it. its like i really hate sushi. i have had trials of testing different sushi, but still never even liked it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but latelly i have tried suchi, to me, its one of its kind. Its the Shrimp Tampura Sushi. i can easily at least say its cooked. and it tastes AMAZING, and a little bit of dipping it in soya sauce. the place where i had it was in Hashi resturant, that is the one in Salhiyah Plaze, infront of Salhiyah Complex. so i really recommend it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Movie "Deja Vu" is AMAZING. i loved the story and the way it was presnted.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just felt today like being food and movie critic :P &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so dont forget to check it out. see you later. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116759273451850149?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116759273451850149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116759273451850149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116759273451850149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116759273451850149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/12/check-it-out.html' title='Check It Out'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116734225734916569</id><published>2006-12-29T00:29:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T15:21:07.443+03:00</updated><title type='text'>العفو و السماح</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/1600/457947/forgiveness2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/400/205302/forgiveness2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;اتصل صديق بي قبل يومين ، يبلغني أن إجراءاته اللازمة للحج تمت ، و انه الآن على أتم الاستعداد للسفر مع حملة معينه وقع الاختيار عليها من قبل والده ، حدثني و هو في قمة سعادته و رهبته من الأمر بنفس الوقت ، كانت هذه المشاعر واضحة من خلال صوته ، لأنها المرة الأولى له.&lt;br /&gt;لطالما أراد الحج قبل اتخاذ قرار الزواج ، لكنني لا أتوقع انه سيقرر الزواج قريبا . &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;و أثناء الكلام طلب مني أن "أحلله" أي أقولها بصريح العبارة أنني لا أحمل أي مشاعر سلبيه من الضغينة أو الغضب أو الحزن تجاهه في حال إذا ضايقني في يوم ما . فسألني عن أي موقف قد جرى بالسابق أجبته بأنه لطالما كان صديقا وفيا و مخلصا . &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;انتهت المحادثة الهاتفية بيننا متمنيا له بحج مبروك و سعي مشكور و ذنب مغفور و طلبت منه الدعاء لأجلي.&lt;br /&gt;أخذتني الأفكار بعيدا بعد المكالمة، لقد جعلتني كلمة "حللني" أفكر مليا ببعض المواقف التي مررت بها خلال السنوات السابقة.&lt;br /&gt;و تذكرت موقفا معينا، أغضبني بشده، و انه يغضبني إلى الآن متى ما تذكرته، و سألت نفسي إذا أتى الشخص المعني بذاك الموقف و طلب مني أن "أحلله"، فهل سأفعل ذالك أم أنني سأرفض ؟؟ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;أعلم بهذه اللحظة أنكم تتساءلون لما قد أحمل كل هذه المشاعر السلبية بعد تلك الفترة كلها، و لما لا أسامح الشخص المعني ؟ نعم ...نعم ....أعلم كل تلك المحاضرات المطولة عن السماح و العفو و نسيان الماضي للمقدرة على المسير بالحياة إلى الأمام ، لكنني كالآخرين ، إنسان و لست بملاك أو شيطان. و قد يتساءل البعض عن كيفيتي بالحياة و أنا أحمل مشاعر الغضب كلها تجاه ذاك الشخص، لا أعلم كيف!!! لكنني للأسف لا أستطيع السماح أو النسيان بسهولة. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;على العموم. لا أنكر حقيقة العفو و السماح قد مرت ببالي، لكنني أدركت شيء ما، أن لكل منا قلب و عقل.&lt;br /&gt;فقلبنا المسئول عن العواطف سواء كانت إيجابية أو سلبية، و عقلنا المسئول عن الأفكار و اتخاذ القرارات سواء الصائبة منها أو الخاطئة.&lt;br /&gt;فقلبي ممتلئ بكل مشاعر الغضب و الكره لذالك الشخص و عقلي يحاول إقناعي بالسماح و النسيان للمضي بالحياة.&lt;br /&gt;للأسف علي الاعتراف، برغم أنني حاولت كثيرا العكس، إلا أنني لا أستطيع السماح أو العفو عن من يخطئ بحقي بشدة، طبعا إنني أتحدث عن المواقف المهينة بشدة بنظري. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;إن هذا النزاع ما بين القلب و العقل مثير للجدل، لطالما كانت هناك الكثير من المواقف التي أثارت الفضول في نفسي، فهل أقولها بصريح العبارة أمام الشخص المعني إذا تطلب الموقف؟ أم يجب علي السماح؟ و إذا حاولت السماح فهل سأقدر على النسيان؟ أم أنني سأتمنى له حدوث الأمر نفسه كما حدث معي؟ أم يجب علي تجنب المرور بهذا السؤال بشكل عام؟ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;يؤسفني القول، و إنها لوجهة نظري، بأننا نعيش في مجتمع اختلط عليه تعريف المجاملات مع تعريف النفاق. و إذا كانت الصراحة مطلوبة، فأين هو الخط الواضح الذي نستطيع منه التفريق بين الصراحة و الوقاحة؟&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;و إذا استطعنا تحديد الفرق بين الصراحة و الوقاحة، فهل سيكون هذا التحديد عاما على الجميع أم أن مقاييسنا و شخصياتنا ستحدث أيضا فرقا بيننا لقبول أو رفض الحدود الفاصلة بين الصراحة و الوقاحة؟ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;فما أعتبره صريحا قد يعتبره شخص آخر نوع من الوقاحة. و العكس جائز أيضا.&lt;br /&gt;هل نعبر عن مشاعرنا السلبية تجاه الآخرين؟ أم هل ننضم إلى نادي "مبتسم أمامك و حاقد خلفك"؟ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;أم هل نصطنع المثالية التي قد تكون نوعا من المثالية الإلهية و نعفو عن كل شي نمر به؟&lt;br /&gt;و إذا قال أحدا أنه سامح مسامحة كاملة، فلما لا يرجع الحال كما كان بالسابق مع الطرف الآخر؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;أم أن القلب مازال متألما للحال لكن تحت شعار "لا يلدغ المؤمن من جحر مرتين"؟؟؟&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116734225734916569?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116734225734916569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116734225734916569' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116734225734916569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116734225734916569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/12/blog-post.html' title='العفو و السماح'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116671651453268143</id><published>2006-12-21T18:49:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T18:55:14.533+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Human Investment !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;People talk about it all the time, thinking hard, doing their best, and watching screens and reading the news papers to make sure that the money they have invested would turn out with a good profit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see a red arrow that means your stock is going down you become blue, angry, and sad, you also might reach a level where you think you shouldn’t have invested in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While you might see the green arrow that means that your stock is going up, you become happy, cheerful, spreading smiles, and you turn out trusting that stock blindly. And you keep on hoping it would stay that way for the rest of your life. And that’s doubtful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea is investing in something so that people will be happy in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we get to know people, we start to feel comfortable with some and uncomfortable with others. It doesn’t mean that others are bad; they're just different, most probably chemistry wise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those who walk along with each other, due to a certain common factor, would understand each other, maybe not totally, but at least they would become aware of each other's personality. With time, friends start having that un-written contract of friendship, it is an untouchable bond. I would consider that "un-written contract" like an investment, of course, not money related. Simply because we put a lot of mental, spiritual, and physical efforts in that kind of investment, friendship investment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knows if that stock of that friend would lose or win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You win a friend when you would find that friend beside you after 10 or 20 years of friendship, supporting you as if you're supporting your self, would be there for you in good times and bad times. Trust, honesty, and respect are their common language. At then, you would know you have won that stock of being that someone's friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can simply imagine the opposite when it comes to losing a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like any other stock, there are factors that help in turning a certain friend's stock to a wining stock or to a losing stock, and that’s a different subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one factor that should always be taken in consideration, and that is "Time". Only time can tell if you won a friend or not. As funny as it might sound, even when it comes to siblings, from the same mother and father, only time can tell you who to trust and who not to trust. Who would be there for you and who wouldn’t be there for you. It is easy to sacrifice for someone, but its hard to find who deserves it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116671651453268143?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116671651453268143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116671651453268143' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116671651453268143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116671651453268143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/12/human-investment.html' title='Human Investment !'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116671610698202253</id><published>2006-12-21T18:21:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T18:48:27.103+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Feed backs (Dreams &amp; Hopes)</title><content type='html'>well well well,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;as the title says, feedbacks of Dreams and Hopes, regarding the comments posted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;First&lt;/strong&gt; of all, im not wishing to be something, cause i already have an aim in my mind, and  that includes being my self. but trust me, it is NOT easy to be who you are as "SIMPLE" as it might sound. with no exceptions, we can reach a certain level of the true us, but never a 100%, there will ALWAYS be that thing in you or part of your self that you will NEVER show. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Second&lt;/strong&gt;: who said i dont thank God of what i have?? i do, and we all should, cause we all will lose it oneday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Regarding the point of seeing what others have, PLEASE, with all my respect, dont try to tell me that no one does that. if the most religious person on earth had a certain disease, he or she will simply ask God "why me? why not them?". i wasnt talking about something in specific. all people ask "Why?". you can go to psychology books, and see the term "Denial" part of this term asking "why me? not others", thats in cases of dieases and illness ofcourse, the term would be different in other cases, but the question remains the same. you should consider non-materialistic topics too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last but not least&lt;/strong&gt;, let us remember that we are HUMANS, we're neither angels nor devils. so when it comes to how we feel, lets just be honest about it, you be honest with yours, cause i will be honest with mine, but you will never be able to see how i really feel from inside, nor will i when it comes to yours!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116671610698202253?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116671610698202253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116671610698202253' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116671610698202253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116671610698202253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/12/feed-backs-dreams-hopes.html' title='Feed backs (Dreams &amp; Hopes)'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116557951678188166</id><published>2006-12-08T14:37:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T16:46:09.536+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams &amp; Hopes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/1600/392829/dreams_and_nightmares.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4116/4068/320/936156/dreams_and_nightmares.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days go by, days go low and high, some go slow, other days fly. Sometimes we think that the old days were better than nowadays. As we begin to explore life, we set certain aims, targets, hopes, dreams, and wishes in all aspects. But as we grow up, we get shocked with reality, realizing that we have to modify couple of our dreams and wishes, along with some of our aims and targets. Again "some" but not all, but the some we're talking about could mean a lot to a lot of us. Some of those dreams sound to be tailored in a perfect world, for a perfect time and place, though they never can be simpler than they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we discover that they will never come true. But some of those dreams keep on walking beside us, creating a certain type of hope and comfort. It might sound pathetic for some while others accept the idea of dreaming it. Dreams like becoming what we want to be, having something in specific, sharing something with someone, or even a simple dream of loving someone and being loved in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when its bedtime, placing our head on the pillow, nothing but the sound of quietness, nothing but the color of a lightless room, flashes of memory cross our mind, reminding us of our dreams. Dreams that could make us feel better once we live it. And once we know they're just dreams, we would have a heartache. Some consider their dreams as the lightest thread they're holding on to survive this artificial life. And living their "impossible" dreams would be their only saviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't easy to grow up expecting to find something that matters to you, and then you discover that you could never ever have it. And it's more painful when you realize that a lot have it, while you and only can not have it, as if you are living the wrong time and place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to under-estimate others, but honestly speaking, don’t you think that sometimes those who don’t even deserve to live have that little thing that you always wished for? And you go like saying "why them not me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not that I don’t believe in destiny, but it just feels bad. And please who ever says that’s life, I know, but I can not deny the fact of the feeling I'm talking about.Guess the word "envy" is going through your mind!!! Hope not because its not what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if I'm the only one or if there are others who think that life is not like we expected. It lacks something. Life seems like it lacks life!!! We're living life but we're not feeling this life, or maybe some don’t even feel alive!&lt;br /&gt;Because of those mixed feelings we tend to modify some of our dreams, or we simply let them go. After we had a strong faith that someday our dreams will come true.&lt;br /&gt;That is maybe someday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116557951678188166?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116557951678188166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116557951678188166' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116557951678188166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116557951678188166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/12/dreams-hopes.html' title='Dreams &amp; Hopes'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116290546166022297</id><published>2006-11-07T16:03:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T16:17:41.723+03:00</updated><title type='text'>. . . Words With No Name !!! . . .</title><content type='html'>well, since couple of days i was thinking of something, that made me write these words. they might make no sence to some people, but to me they do, they reflect little bit of what im trying to say. anyhow, this is the poem,   am still thinking of a name or a title:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've tried my best&lt;br /&gt;Gone east and west&lt;br /&gt;And passed a million test&lt;br /&gt;Of my self, I was in quest&lt;br /&gt;Do you still think&lt;br /&gt;I'm like the rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been in my shoes?&lt;br /&gt;When you have no right to accept or refuse&lt;br /&gt;When you just want to be your self&lt;br /&gt;But they still accuse&lt;br /&gt;That I'm not what they want&lt;br /&gt;And to them I was just an amuse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They seek perfection, you seek it all&lt;br /&gt;They can not hear or see&lt;br /&gt;Between their lashes there is a wall&lt;br /&gt;Like a God, they judge me&lt;br /&gt;Do you know that someday you will fall?&lt;br /&gt;I'll see you fall and burn in hell&lt;br /&gt;And there is no body for you to call&lt;br /&gt;Maybe then you'll appreciate me&lt;br /&gt;And beg me to rescue your soul&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? I won't &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On your grave, I want to see the board&lt;br /&gt;To see and smile for the word&lt;br /&gt;To read "Rest In Peace"&lt;br /&gt;Then my fire might cease&lt;br /&gt;I'll make you pay back, pay back the fees&lt;br /&gt;Falling down on your knees&lt;br /&gt;Begging me saying please&lt;br /&gt;Crying hell bloody tears&lt;br /&gt;Make you taste how it feels&lt;br /&gt;To live a little of my fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fears of lost personality&lt;br /&gt;Fears of lost humanity&lt;br /&gt;Fears of lost integrity&lt;br /&gt;Fears of lost identity&lt;br /&gt;Fears of loosing me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of your self you're so proud&lt;br /&gt;Judging and calling names in the face&lt;br /&gt;And I thought it would be a phase&lt;br /&gt;But you still walk around&lt;br /&gt;Looking down at people&lt;br /&gt;Hating this color and race&lt;br /&gt;For minorities you want to erase &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do you still want to talk about grace?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can run away with no trace?&lt;br /&gt;Well, read my lips,&lt;br /&gt;It's my turn to express&lt;br /&gt;For you there is no space&lt;br /&gt;The devil in you I'll suppress&lt;br /&gt;Now I have my own voice and place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these years I've been in a cage&lt;br /&gt;Wearing masks, hiding from the shade&lt;br /&gt;And I was boiling having a rage&lt;br /&gt;For my self I was afraid to fade&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was freedom on a page&lt;br /&gt;So that history can be made&lt;br /&gt;But guess you were afraid&lt;br /&gt;With my honesty I'd be sharp like a blade&lt;br /&gt; I gave you everything,&lt;br /&gt; For my dues I paid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I see my name&lt;br /&gt; Written on a gate&lt;br /&gt; There's no more to blame&lt;br /&gt; So I will stop the hate&lt;br /&gt; I will quit the game&lt;br /&gt; I will write the date&lt;br /&gt; The birth of my fame&lt;br /&gt; The fame of being me&lt;br /&gt; Hope it's not too late&lt;br /&gt; Cause now it's my time, its my turn&lt;br /&gt; Do you doubt my fate?&lt;br /&gt; Huh&lt;br /&gt; Bet you want to do the same&lt;br /&gt; To be your self, just your self&lt;br /&gt; So remember my name! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116290546166022297?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116290546166022297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116290546166022297' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116290546166022297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116290546166022297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/11/words-with-no-name.html' title='. . . Words With No Name !!! . . .'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116256063585072042</id><published>2006-11-03T15:13:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T16:30:35.916+03:00</updated><title type='text'>الابتسامة</title><content type='html'>This time im writting my article in Arabic :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;اتصل بي أحد الأصدقاء يوم الأربعاء مقـتـرحا السفر إلى  البحرين لقضاء عطلة  نهاية  الأسبوع في الشهر  الحالي ، خاصة أن  أحد الخطوط الجوية "التجارية" مقدمة عروضا  خاصه لفترة   محدوده ، فكرت  بالموضوع و قلت  لما لا ، بما أنني  لم  أذهب  إلى  البحرين من قبل ،  بالرغم  من قربها للكويت .  فاتفقنا على  الذهاب إلى  المطار للحجز مباشرة  من هناك لأن  الحجز عن طريق الانترنت و &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;الهاتف  معطل ، و كان  الاتفاق على الساعة الثالثة و النصف عصرا  تقريبا&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;وصلت إلى  المطار حوالي  الساعة الثالثة و العشرين دقيقة و بعدي بخمسة دقائق وصل  صديقي ، و إذا  بأمة لا إله إلا الله مجتمعة و متجمعة للحجز و الحصول على العروض المقدمة من هذه الخطوط ، و لطبيعة العروض الخاصة ،  فإن  طبقة معينة و فئات معينة كانت الغالبية  العظمى من الناس المنتظرة ،   استغفر الله ، لا أعني  التقليل أو ما شابه بخلق الله ،  و لكن طبيعة  الناس تختلف ، و بالتحديد سواء بالتصرفات ،  الأخلاق ، و طبيعة المعاملة &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;كان هناك أربعة صفوف للإنتظار ، واحد منها مخصص للنساء و ذلك  للتنسيق لا أكثر ، قررنا  الوقوف بالصف الأسرع ظاهريا ، و لكن بعد ساعتين من الانتظار اكتشفت ان الصف لا يتحرك  بأي شكل من الأشكال ، و ذلك لسوؤ التنظيم من قبل رجال الأمن التابعين للخطوط نفسها &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;لاحظت من مسافة بعيدة  كيفية تعامل الناس مع موظفين الحجوزات ، اسلوب يفــتــقر لأبسط أنواع الاحترام و الأدب ،  و لا أنسى  طبعا  لغة الجسد و أصابع  اليدين أثناء التحدث ، و تعابير الوجه على موظفات الحجوزات   تعبر كل التعبير على الاستياء و عدم الراحه و الغضب أيضا للوضع &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;لا أنكر تضايقي الشخصي لعدم سير الصف و عدم تحركه منذ انتظاري بساعتين ، و بالرغم من محاولاتنا أنا و صديقي و التحدث مع أكثر من شخص بالهاتف لمساعدتنا للحجز من خلال الانترنت ،  لكنها  باءت بالفشل ، فما كان بنا إلا الانتظار  أكثر و أكثر ،  و لكن مع الوضع الحاصل هناك ،  و تدخين البعض للسجائر النتنة وسط الزحمة و انتشار لوحات "عدم التدخين "  الكبيرة و ضرب البعض للبعض بقصد الوقوف و الانتظار ، إلا  أن الانتظار كان مستحيل &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;طلبت من صديقي الانتظار ، سألني لماذا ، قلت هي دقائق قليلة سأحاول شئ و آتي ،  قال فليكن &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;فذهبت إلى  موظفه واقفة وراء المكتب تقوم بالعمل على حجز تذكرة  لعجوز على كرسي متحرك ، و أثناء انتظاري للحصول على فرصة للتحدث إليها قمت برسم ابتسامة بسيطة على  وجهي و بعد ثواني انتبهت لوجودي ، فقلت لها " آسف على الازعاج ، إنني  أعلم بانشغالكم و الله يعطيكم العافية ،  لكن عندي استفسار بسيط ، منذ ساعتين و نحن ننتظرو الصف لا يتحركو الصفوف الأخرى تتحرك أسرع ، فرجاءا لو مافيها  ازعاج  تبليغ رجال الأمن بالنظام و الانصاف بالترتيب ، ليحصل كل واحد منه على فرصة للوصول لكم ، و الله  يعطيج العافيه"  قلت لها هذه الكلمات و هي تنصت إلي بنتباه ، فسألتني أين هو مكاني ،  فأجبتها ، فقالت "شكرا ،  لو سمحت انتظر مكانك " قلت  حسنا و رجعت&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;و إذا بها تصرخ على الناس لعدم انتظامهم و اسلوبهم ،  و من ثم تأت  إلي مبتسمه و بكل هدوء و تقول لي " كم تذكره  تريدون؟؟و إلى أين و أي تاريخ ؟  " فأجبتها&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;فإذا بها تسجل ما قلت ،  تنظر إلي و تطلب مني الانتظار لأنها ستساعدني &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;استغرب صديقي للوضع و انا أيضا ، لأنني لم أطلب منها المساعده ،  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;فاتصلت بي لـتأكد الحجز ،  فقالت الحجز جاهز ، الرجاء التوجه  للبنك لدفع المبلغ المطلوب &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;ابتسمت لها و شكرتها فقالت لا شكر على واجب &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;بالرغم من إنني  لا أحب التعدي  على القانون و البشر إلا  أنني لا أنكر سعادتي عندما ساعدتني ، و عندما سألت  نفسي لماذا  ساعدتني ،  عرفت الإجابه  من تلقاء نفسي &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;ببساطه شديده التقدير ، لا يوجد  أحلى  من تقديرالناس  للشخص و عمله و شكرهم لذلك&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;و طريقة   التعامل &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;ان ابتسامة صغيرة و كلمة  تعبر على الشكر و الثناء لعمل شخص تذيب أقسى شخص وسط عمله ، بالذات  إذا كان الشخص يعمل بمحيط يختلف عن الاسلوب المحترم المتعارف عليه&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;موضوع الاحترام و التقدير  يطول  شرحه و لنا للموضوع  بقية &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;:)       ،  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116256063585072042?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116256063585072042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116256063585072042' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116256063585072042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116256063585072042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/11/blog-post.html' title='الابتسامة'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116232796926645537</id><published>2006-10-31T23:08:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T00:19:16.670+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The All Time Pleasure !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/1600/choco2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/320/choco2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;woke up at evening time, craving for something sweet &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nothing on my mind, but for my self to treat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;im not hungry, so nothing will do, no chicken no meat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but yet im searching for something to eat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;something good for cold winter or summer heat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ofcourse, nothing like chocolate would be neat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so for different kinds i was searching and i will eat :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;chocolate is the taste of heaven, if i can say it this way, nothing would be better after a meal, mid day, mid night, in the afternoons, or in a crowded nights. something you can have if you're hungry, if you're angry, if you're happy, if you're in love, if you're sad, if you're mad, if you were feeling blue, and even if you were feeling down and have no clue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You could have it plain, that is dark, you can have it with milk, hazelnuts, nuts, caramel, crispy rice, praline, mint, honey, orange, strawberry, raisins, almonds, spices, biscuit, cinnamon, cardamom, and the list goes on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And because it all depends on my mood, i wanted to know the history of chocolate, so i surfed the net, and found couple of sites that talk about chocolate, here is one site that i enjoyed reading: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fieldmuseum.org/chocolate/history.html"&gt;http://www.fieldmuseum.org/chocolate/history.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and another brief site is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blchocolate.htm"&gt;http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blchocolate.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhow, my favorite chocolate, is with praline, they are tasty, BIG TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;we can not forget that chocolate does have good health effects, but if eaten in moderation. and they can make good gifts for certain occasions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i dont want to talk more about chocolate, cause my chocolate bar is already waiting for me, i got to go. so live your life and have a piece of chocolate ;) the all time pleasure ! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116232796926645537?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116232796926645537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116232796926645537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116232796926645537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116232796926645537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/10/all-time-pleasure.html' title='The All Time Pleasure !!!'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116198492596708490</id><published>2006-10-27T22:32:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T23:50:09.033+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"GMS" ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;With No Offence: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;the following article is of a very deep complicated nature. So those who are NOT interested, and i mean it, in psychology, please just simply go to the next article. cause this is a specific deep subject that needs a little bit extra of your attention, simply to keep track of what im saying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Enjoy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;There are some subjects or matters that always got my attention, or me made think of them whenever i come accross a social or work related incident. Some are like body language, facial expresion, first impresion, communication skills, and public relations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but on top of them all, there is another subject that i find interesting, sometimes it even pisses me of, excuse my language !.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im talking about standards. we all have different standards in every field, sector, behaviour, attitude, mentality, or, again, an incident!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what might be wrong for me, might be right for you, what seems wrong for you, could seem right for me, and we could share the same point of view because simply we kindda have similar standards, and maybe in that specific subject only !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first of all, reading from different sources and dictionaries, i can simply define standards as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;"the quantitative or qualitative points, limits, levels, or degrees required &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;to reach the minimum satisfaction and/or acceptance".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;here i would like to discuss the social related standards only.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;why am i writting this ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;because latelly i found out there are some little actions for which people have wide and huge differences when it comes to standard. and believe it or not, these differences of standards about certain little topics do have a role in:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;1-The social chemistry between people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;and 2-The attitude of anyone's personality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;an example for that: People who accept the idea of drinking alcohol and/or do drink alcohol you find them going together, maybe in certain occasions only, because each one of them share the same standard when it comes to drinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;so -1- they do have chemistry, thats why they're together, and -2- you will find each one of them have a certain prospect about life in general, and thats their attitude ! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;but drinking is not the subject now, and neither want to put it on the list of standards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;I started thinking, thinking and thinking !!! and i came up wiht this term: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;"The Global Minimum Standards" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;(GMS)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;and i would define this term by: " the minimum of an internationally well known standard that would be common wherever you go in the world in every subject ". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;So what you, in Kuwait, think is wrong, your friend would think the same, the guy brushing the great wall of China would think its also wrong, and the man having coffee in Starbucks Times Square in New York would also agree with you and find it wrong. because then we all would have a " GMS " in that specific whatever subject that makes us think its wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;A well known action that can be placed under GMS is greetings. That is if you were walking somewhere in Kuwait, saw someone infront of you, had a smile on your face and said "Good morning" or "hi" than normal reaction would be that someone is replying back. so if that someone did not answer you back, that would be impolite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;So regardeless of your back ground, religion, color, race, sex, or mentality, once you found out that someone did not reply back to your greetings (on purpose) you would find this action impolite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;The action of NOT replying a greeting is impolite wherever you go in the world. so this is considered GMS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Saying a greeting and waiting for a reply was just a real event of daily life that i brought up as a good example of GMS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;ok, now after, i think, made my point of GMS. im going to spend sometime on what are the social GMS ? what are the actions that we can NOT consider correct or right due to the social GMS. but that would be in some other time and article :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;If the article wasnt looking neat, trust me i did my best to make it look good !!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116198492596708490?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116198492596708490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116198492596708490' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116198492596708490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116198492596708490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/10/gms.html' title='&quot;GMS&quot; ???'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116187314136481885</id><published>2006-10-26T16:47:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T19:25:06.713+03:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dark Room !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I saw my self again standing infront of that black door with its same old golden knob. whenever i hear, see, or remember something i find my self comming back to this room, while i try my best not to do so ! Its been a while for me since i last visited this place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As i opened the door, i could feel the time that passed and the dust on the ground, nothing but the light rays from my back making my way to the inside of the room, showing me my favorite wooden arm chair. I stepped in, leaving the door behind me almost closed just to make me barelly see whats inside the room. I dont like to switch on the lights inhere. i like it dark. ofcourse and quiet. i took a deep breath, looked around, patted the arm chair to remove the dust, and had my seat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Shelves made of steel are all over the the walls of the room. half of them are empty and nothing to hold, while the other half, has lots of stuff, mainly boxes, different colors and sizes. from the many many boxes, I was able to see a blue box with a little title tag that says "University", another gray one that says "High School", a third box my eyes fell on was with a title of "Old Friends", and another one beside it "Friends".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My eyes kept on moving on the same shelf. and then i noticed a multi colored box with my name written on it by hand. and i thought "why the hell have i kept it there?" it wasnt in its right place. i dont even remember whats in it. so i pulled the box, went back to my chair, moved the dust on the cover of the box, and opened it. &lt;/div&gt;strange ....... as i was opening the box, those words crossed my mind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" Viva Forever, I'll be waiting, Everlasting, Like the sun, Live Forever, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For the moment, Ever searching, for the world"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;there were pictures of my self in different age stagies, pictures of my family, some post cards of different places, some old candies, an old gift wrap, untitled CD, a little hand made wooden box, a small silver spoon, a china mug, old money paper and some coins, and a small silver pendant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Godness, so many things inhere, and they're not in their right places. but i can tell each has a story, each rings a bell. again words crossed my mind, i can hear it saying : &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" But we're all alone, was it just a dream, Feelings untold, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They will never be sold, And the secrets safe with me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i brushed away the words i hear, focused my attention on the things infront of me, "i have to re-arrange them in their correct places, but some will remain inhere" i thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i didnt feel like going through the stories of each item inhere, so i placed them back, and closed the box. its still on my lap. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;started looking around. but again i thought: "what was the reason that made me come here?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i still can smell the dust ! while my eyes fell on different sizes of boxes, some were white the others were black, beside each other ! i blushed as a smile was making its own way on my face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;took a deep breath, grapped the box and placed it on a different shelf, just near my arm chair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;stood in the middle of the room, had a last look just before i leave, and there i heard the words again: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Do you still remember, how we used to be, Feeling together,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;believe in whatever, My love has said to me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i walked to the door, opened it, but made sure i wont open it all the way, i dont want the light to get in. Stepped out of the room. Pulled the door to close it, and just before i do, i entered my head to have a last glance inside. my smile was still there. i pulled my head out, closed the door and locked it. &lt;/div&gt;Godness, the words wouldn't stop :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" Yes I still remember, every whispered word, The touch of your skin,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;giving life from within, Like a love song that I've heard" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ohh yeah, i do rememeber these words, they're "Viva forever" song words for Spice girls. i used to love this song, guess i still do. walked away from that room, walked so far that i wasnt able to see it anymore. i dont think i want to stay close to my room, to my "dark room" !!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116187314136481885?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116187314136481885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116187314136481885' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116187314136481885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116187314136481885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/10/dark-room.html' title='The Dark Room !'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116172527223259727</id><published>2006-10-25T00:19:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T06:13:15.410+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom !!!</title><content type='html'>as the 23rd of October was the first day of Eid Al-fetir ,after fasting the holy month of Ramadan, it is part of the culture in Kuwait and the Arab world to do their social duties, that is by visiting family members,friends, gatherring for a feast, discussing different topics, and ofcourse not to forget going to "dewaniyas", thats psrt of the Kuwaiti culture.&lt;br /&gt;As we were talking, discussing, and having different point of views in different topis and subjects, the subject of "freedom" was there. i had a smile on my face :)&lt;br /&gt;i was thinking about freedom couple of days ago and thinking of those people who seek freedom,  ofcourse they're seeking the freedom of speech, in my definition that is to say whatever you want to say as long as they are not insulting any person, religion, color, or race.&lt;br /&gt;i think this should be re-thought !!!&lt;br /&gt;why ?&lt;br /&gt;simply, before we start thinking of having the right and freedom to say whatever we want,  lets have first the freedom to see,  hear,  or read whatever we want !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, we lack the simplest degrees of freedom,   which i thought of calling it, &lt;br /&gt;the "Freedom of Knowledge" !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why am i saying this ??? due to different incidents that happend in the kindda similar timmings.&lt;br /&gt;a friend of mine went to buy ,from a "well known"   music store, the latest album for the artist Justin Temberlake, he is an American pop singer. the staff told him that all the albums were withdrawn from the market. why ?!?!?!?   because the album has a song by the name of "Sexy Back" !!!  well DUH !!!   it doesnt mean that Justin doing porno !!!! but again,  their reason was because of the word "sexy" !!!! and the radio station FM 99.7 keeps on playing it but i can not buy it legally from the market !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so Number 1 :     this simply indicates, that I, as a human being,  dont have the freedom to listen to what i want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went to a "well known"  library and a book shop like 6 months ago seeking a good book for sexualy transmited diseases (STDs) for work related reasons.&lt;br /&gt;you know those little  books  that talk about something specific,  usually have the title of "The guide to ...."  or "Your source for ...." , so i was looking for something similar. And there was my shock, there is no book that is dedicated directlly for STDs available in Kuwait, they are usually within another kind or sort of  books ! when i asked for the reason,  it was because they're not allowed !!!&lt;br /&gt;ofcourse i dont have to mention that the case is not only about STDs related books, but there are many many books about history, politics, islam, origins of families, and some well known novels that are not allowed in Kuwait,&lt;br /&gt;while on the other hand,  i saw it with my own eyes in another "well known" book shop, many books about "Budhism" and "how to practice budhism" on display !!!&lt;br /&gt;i personally dont have anything against budhists, but i thought such books should be forbiden as well !!! IF we were thinking logically !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so Number 2 :  i dont have the freedom to read what i want !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;logged to the internet, was searching for a specific politics related information, found a news channel, and there it was,  no,  not the channel,  the block sign from the internet providing service (IPS) company !! as a result i was not able to log into the site of that channel !!!&lt;br /&gt;i was talking to my sister the day after about the same subject, and she said that a fashion and style website was blocked as well !!! ofcourse, not to forget that there are many movies and series, arabic and english, that are not allowed to be shown on alot of arabic TV channels due to political reasons !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so Number 3 :  i dont have the freedom to view or see whatever i want !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from numbers 1, 2, and 3,&lt;br /&gt; do you think we have the simplest degrees of freedom ?  as the freedom of knowledge ???&lt;br /&gt;I dont think so.&lt;br /&gt;so before seeking the freedom of speech, lets seek the freedom of knowledge !!! the freedom that is related to all of my senses, except my mouth !!!  I want the freedom to see, read, and listen to what ever i want !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if,   that is only IF we had the freedom of speech,  i know alot will mis-behave and mis-use it !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116172527223259727?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116172527223259727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116172527223259727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116172527223259727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116172527223259727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/10/freedom.html' title='Freedom !!!'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36405958.post-116152912149047685</id><published>2006-10-23T03:50:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T17:58:41.556+03:00</updated><title type='text'>having a blog !</title><content type='html'>well,  this is my the very first post i have on my very first blog page ! &lt;br /&gt;as i was talking to a good friend of mine (ZZ) at work last Wednesday, she suddenly asked me if i have a blog? and i went like "uhhh,  no!",  so i asked the reason why she was asking,  so she said "i think you need to have one, my friends were asking me if you do have a blog?"  so i thought about it, went online,  searched about blogs, that i always heard about but never had the chance or care to have one.  but guess now its gonna be one of my favorite hobbies :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36405958-116152912149047685?l=petals-of-life.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/feeds/116152912149047685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36405958&amp;postID=116152912149047685' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116152912149047685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36405958/posts/default/116152912149047685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petals-of-life.blogspot.com/2006/10/having-blog.html' title='having a blog !'/><author><name>Soul2Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01174527835701100330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4116/4068/400/heaven.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
