<?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-8308371910333022643</id><updated>2011-08-03T19:15:51.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>of Shadows and Reflections...</title><subtitle type='html'>I clasp my hand in silent prayer, and I, but, silently contemplate - it is like a conversation with God where I question myself...I strip myself of my shows of glory and I let a tear fall. My cheeks redden and crimson finds my lips, and I'm but shaking, cold and afraid...I close my eyes, shut them tighter, and sigh - knowing that I'm finally myself - open to God, open to myself, for the world to see...me, as the person I truly am.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-8688654802477852303</id><published>2009-04-13T02:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T02:37:41.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean</title><content type='html'>I'm confused, unsure..and I'm thoroughly LOST. In other words, I'm a teenager !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday..on the phone, I heard and was a minute part of an entire "scandalous deal" which was supposed to be amusing..entertaining even, for us who were the ones on the better and more favourable end. It was something like a prank - but a prank that pulled at the strings of emotions. Immature emotions, maybe - but they were "emotions" at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed. I enjoyed. I thought it was fun - how it was meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then..it struck me that it's just "us" who thought it was fun - what about the person we pulled the trick on ? Was it fair to embarrass her and all but make fun of her..that too in front of her ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was mean. Very, very mean. If I were in her place...I tremble to think how I would have reacted. It wouldn't be pretty, it couldn't be. Mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And..worst part, I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always hated anybody who hurts, not just me but, anybody at all. Today, I did that. Had I not been a part of it, it would have still happened. Because I cannot change people. But, the point is that I was there.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like scum. I hate hurting people. I hate insulting emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall never openly apologize but...the feeling of regret is borne in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I could be that mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-8688654802477852303?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8688654802477852303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=8688654802477852303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/8688654802477852303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/8688654802477852303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/04/mean.html' title='Mean'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-4692816321264135510</id><published>2009-04-10T11:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T11:20:56.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fuck this. Fuck that. And fuck YOU for your beautiful smile!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-4692816321264135510?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4692816321264135510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=4692816321264135510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/4692816321264135510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/4692816321264135510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/04/fuck-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-4195001130366762757</id><published>2009-04-02T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:27:07.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something fell into my eye...</title><content type='html'>"I'm not crying, Something fell into my eye..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when I mumble that to myself and wish I could believe in that too. It's a lie. Each time I say "I'm okay", I'm lying!!!!! Why don't people get that ??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no words to say how I feel now...ICSE ended today - no doubt, I'm relieved AND I had a tiring but awesome day with my best friend Paroma and both our mothers (I even got Spongebob ear rings !), the cl.11 lists got put up and 15 people got Science from my section (lol), but...since yesterday I have this really gnawing feeling inside of me, chewing at my very being. Some times I can feel the tears coming, but..I stop them. I'm not going to cry. I'm NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to say that I have no idea why I'm feeling this way and blame it on the hormones (as I tend to do) but, this time, it's for REAL. I've my reasons. Maybe not huge reasons but..that's the cause, definitely. It's how it only takes a spark to get a fire going - that little bit of ignorance set a fire ablaze within me..and it's charring me, burning me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I can do something about the cause..but I won't - I'm fear of setting the spark off. The fire may be hurting me, but I love the spark that started it ! Strange thing, love is, is it not ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-4195001130366762757?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/4195001130366762757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=4195001130366762757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/4195001130366762757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/4195001130366762757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/04/something-fell-into-my-eye.html' title='Something fell into my eye...'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-751457917997447024</id><published>2009-02-09T01:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:54:10.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who are you? I ask.</title><content type='html'>I am not a liar, but yes - I pretend. I spin tales about myself, about my sheer perfection, how only a professional con artist could weave a web worthy of deceit before a viewer's eye. But, I am not a liar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not very intelligent...it's just foolish of others to believe everything they see. Is it my fault that they think life is so fair that everything they can see is real? It was never me who told them to believe in words that are merely LIES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to believe I am observant - but what do I see? Nothing! I can't tell one emotion from another, I can't tell when I am being too vindictive, when I am crossing borders. After all, I keep wanting to believe I can't be wrong. That I am but the epitome of sheer perfection!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shadows fall over paths that go round and round, making one dizzy as they tread with unsure steps. Is this the right way? they ask, not realizing they're trapped in a circle. A foot beyond the normal scares them. It's an illusion of height that all have. One step out of the circle, and you...fall. You break. You hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically, they can't dream of it. So they go in circles. Tears pricking their eyes, red with unrest, fear and uncertainty. That is what everybody chooses to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least it is not the endless dark corridors you're running in, the house of mirrors where you're lost. The greatest nightmares of all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're just human. How many times have each of us thought this - to ourselves or outloud? It's an excuse that is universally accepted. After all, how can WE, frail humanity, be blamed for our mistakes? We are only human...so we try to veil it all, mask it all, believing in the myth that...it'll change everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, it does not. Do we realize? Hiding does not change anything. Reality is compact. Pretense and lies are just vain attempts to hide it. The fact that we're irresponsible, imperfect and cold-hearted. That we are truly INhuman...no matter what we pretend to be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the world, each of us wakes up and puts on a mask. Some of us choose a pretty, smiling one, others choose a frown or an emotionless one. None of us think twice before wearing it - does it really suit me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps that is man's only hope of survival. But, it is not lies. Even someone who is smiling all the time can feel sad at times and yet smile through it, more out of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;habit &lt;/span&gt;than anything else. A sad person can feel limitlessly happy but yet not know how to smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is life - we have to choose our masks right. We pretend, not lie. We go in endless circles because we're afraid to hurt our bodies. We are inhuman but we're okay with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Who are you?&lt;/span&gt; I ask. I hope that as you read it , it echoes in your head. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In your own voice, &lt;/span&gt;for I need not the answer. Stumble for a while as you ask, it matters not. Make sure you have the answer before you go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-751457917997447024?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/751457917997447024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=751457917997447024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/751457917997447024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/751457917997447024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2009/02/who-are-you-i-ask.html' title='Who are you? I ask.'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-2692198559437767373</id><published>2008-12-11T02:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T02:45:25.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unanswered Questions</title><content type='html'>Even though I knew that today was not my last day in school, I knew that I'll be a different person the next time I come to school for classes...I'll be more mature and in XI. People change in class XI, don't they? How can I claim to be beyond change? Change can be positive, granted but - change is change. I won't be the same person the next time I go to school, and that is a given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as I returned home in my car today, that wasn't the issue that was bothering me. No, that was a concept I just contrived so as to begin this blog in a seemingly, make believe philosophical manner - after all, as I returned home, my heart did feel empty, I did feel lost, I did let tears roll down my cheeks...but that was all because I was happy. And, perhaps, because I feel afraid that I might close my eyes for a moment and open it to see that it has all disappeared..it was a dream, a wonderful dream, a dream that would shatter my reality, my existence, to realize that it was but an illusion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my shirt signed, you know..by my friends, class mates, juniors and seniors...reading all of it, I was so touched...I wondered if I deserve all of their affection...do I deserve that much of love? What if I don't..what if I hurt them? Will I be able to forgive myself?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And..I trembled to answer those questions...after all, some questions are better off left unanswered...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-2692198559437767373?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/2692198559437767373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=2692198559437767373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/2692198559437767373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/2692198559437767373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/12/unanswered-questions.html' title='Unanswered Questions'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-1468099422823913002</id><published>2008-11-29T05:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T05:37:49.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday blues, eh?!</title><content type='html'>It's my birthday tomorrow. But am I feeling really excited? After all..I'm going to turn ("sweet") 16, get presents, hugs and CARDS and people are going to express how dear I am to them. But, no, guess what - I'm crying and suspecting that I'm clearly out of my freaking MIND.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, today we had Sports practice - race selections took place and..the first round of tug-of-war. Tug-of-war is one of the most hyped up event in my school and I'm in my house's team. And..you know what? We won..but we did not win! We are supposed to have 3 matches - whichever house wins 2 of them, automatically wins. And, my house had won the 1st and 3rd. BUT, who can stop a bunch of sore losers when they have set their minds onto "winning" by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hook or by crook&lt;/span&gt;? The teachers of the opposing house said that their team "hadn't been ready" when the whistle was blown - is that even minutely believable? -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The whistle is blown AFTER the center point of the rope is directly above the center line. And, that is done only and only after the anchor of both ends have been tied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Before the whistle is blown, the anchors of both teams are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;asked&lt;/span&gt; if they're ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The opposing team had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fallen&lt;/span&gt; for Christ's sake! If I were to believe for a single moment that their &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anchor wasn't ready&lt;/span&gt;, then the obvious outcome would be that they would not be as strong and would be pulled easily. But, that did not happen - they bloody FELL !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Has anyone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; heard of best of "FOUR" matches?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..so we lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is understandable when students cheat - they are not only kids but they also are not supposed to be "setting examples" for other people. However, it is shameful, disgraceful and totally DISGUSTING when it is the teacher's themselves who are......CHEATING. So, can we say that the teachers are condoning cheating (I never have, but I guess that the teachers are setting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that example &lt;/span&gt;for us!)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a sore loser and I don't mind losing if I know that we lost to an obviously better team. But, this time, it was UNFAIR. What was worse was that even our house mistress wasn't there......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was feeling &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;horrible&lt;/span&gt; about that..and I called up a friend of mine. I had invited her to my place for my birthday tomorrow. I'm not having a party but I did invite the people I love the most. My friend didn't know if she could come so she'd told me that she'd let me know...and, guess what - It's 6.50pm on the eve of my birthday and she hasn't told me a "yes" or "no". I really don't get it - what's her f***ing problem to say just that much? Is it too much to ask for when I obviously love her as much as only an idiot can consider loving someone else? I'm obviously very, VERY upset about that too...it makes me somehow feel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;insignificant&lt;/span&gt;, you know - like I am not good enough for her and I'm somehow "not worth it".....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really so? I've always tried to give people the best of me...I wish they would know how much I care and actually have the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;decency&lt;/span&gt; to be grateful for that. It's just funny -  when people don't love you, you feel lost and alone. And when people do care and have the guts to express it, you realize that you are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too good&lt;/span&gt; to be loved by someone as inferior as them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F*** that attitude of people...and f*** me for crying over this - I'm feeling disgusted and I.................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............probably should go and watch Roadies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-1468099422823913002?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/1468099422823913002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=1468099422823913002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/1468099422823913002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/1468099422823913002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/11/birthday-blues.html' title='Birthday blues, eh?!'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-8666165458054720767</id><published>2008-11-10T05:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T05:02:10.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons to Cry</title><content type='html'>I cried today. A lot. It was not the way people cry when they are scolded by someone or are experiencing a general feeling of sadness. No, it was the way people cry when they are broken..tears, a searing pain finding place in the heart, a lingering sorrow in the mind giving way to a terrible head ache. Maybe it is a phase, but throughout the phase, it is the same thing - sadness beyond a limit that is permissible. Depression, yes, maybe it can be called even that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever loved someone so much that you stopped caring about yourself? That you ignored the fact that every relationship needs to be both-sided..you too needed to be loved back in return..that you too matter? Have you ever cared so much about someone that you did everything to make them happy and even when that was not returned with gratefulness, consoled yourself by saying, "I did my part, so I have no regrets"..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, at the end of the day when it came to that you yourself were suffering due to all of your "saintly" ideologies, how did you feel? A feeling of being alone - lost, trembling and cowering, hopeless and numb? That is how I felt today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had/have a friend whom I love dearly. But today, yet again, I realized that I'm somewhat punishing myself by having belief in our one-sided relationship. Each time I invite her over, she makes up an excuse - maybe those "excuses" were genuine reasons a few times, but when it keeps on happening over and over again, do you think it's believable? She barely cares about me..and yet still I try to play the "saint" who loves without expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love without expectations..." though, is truly a saying..one that is easier said than done, like Mother Teresa's words - "If you judge people, you'll have no time to love them." Talking about the second quote, if we don't judge people, won't we end up loving the wrong kind of people who will just make use of the fact that they are loved? But, one thing's for sure - no one has the right to judge anyone else. You may have an opinion, but you can't say that "someone is bad"..they may have incompatible features but how do you categorize and label people like that? They're &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt;, not some waste materials that need to be segregated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in an attempt to not wander from the topic, I must say that I had really tried to love people without expecting anything, you know..but it does not work. Somehow a lot of my friends have but taken &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;advantage&lt;/span&gt; of the fact that they're loved...is that a fair deal? Won't I be like Brutus and commit the same naive errors if I begin to think that everyone's as pure-hearted as me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if someone asks me if I repent that I love my friend so much...I would say, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;. I've done my bit. I tried all I could and left the rest to her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, today I thought of telling her that "I never want to talk to her" just because it is hurting &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;too much...yet still, I'll probably never have the courage to tell her - maybe because I'm afraid to lose someone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;love...or, even more, because I never wish to hurt her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it would not even hurt her..but I'm not going to risk it. For, I know one thing  sure - someday she is going to look back and wonder why she never loved me when I cared so much for her... Whatever it is, I truly wish the best for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-8666165458054720767?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/8666165458054720767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=8666165458054720767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/8666165458054720767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/8666165458054720767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/11/reasons-to-cry.html' title='Reasons to Cry'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8308371910333022643.post-994883361081260399</id><published>2008-11-09T06:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T08:40:20.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Priceless Emotions</title><content type='html'>I've had blogs before now..but I've rarely used them to express my thoughts, emotions and feelings. Instead, I've penned down random things in them that would barely have any value to anyone, including myself...and I wasted many a sheet of paper and quite some amount of ink on directly penning them down. In that way, not only did I wrong the subject EVE that I am pretty much forced to study, but I also wrong my ever-precious - as I tend to end up losing the loose scraps of paper on which I write. Therefore, I've finally decided to dedicate an entire blog to the noble purpose of expressing myself, one thing that I best do through writing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I've tried many a time to do the very same thing - and I always end up moving away from the point and typing away meaningless things. But, no - this time, I'm determined to pen down (rather, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;type out&lt;/span&gt;) my frequently overwhelming emotions, minor depressions, slight frustrations...and, more than often, my confusion....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, never interpret my longing to vent out my emotions through writing as a lack of a confidant - I have a sister who knows me inside and out, even without me telling her; a best friend loves me with her life and a second to best friend, whatever that position is called, whom I practically share everything with...and I'm grateful to them for being there with as well as for me -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In reality, I am out with this blog, or online journal, in an attempt to combine my passion for writing with my passionate emotions...after all, as the hormonal nearly-16 year old girl that I am, emotions seem to guide everything I do -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is somewhat a tribute to the power of writing..writing, that I shall use as an instrument to forever preserve my..&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;priceless&lt;/span&gt;..emotions...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8308371910333022643-994883361081260399?l=of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/feeds/994883361081260399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8308371910333022643&amp;postID=994883361081260399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/994883361081260399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8308371910333022643/posts/default/994883361081260399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://of-shadows-and-reflections.blogspot.com/2008/11/priceless-emotions.html' title='Priceless Emotions'/><author><name>Aankhi-ii</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02592142934218778238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gXldnp010uc/SJ2NzmLMClI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/VXAcBSkweZA/s1600-R/Untitled-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
