<?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-644237751201104168</id><updated>2011-12-28T07:50:59.955+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Speaks</title><subtitle type='html'>Every thing in this page is about me, my life, and what I feel inside my heart</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>138</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8775822503680510309</id><published>2010-10-10T19:17:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T20:01:55.317+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Sad Story</title><content type='html'>My mind wandered to 28 June 2009, I got an email from him in which he wrote this one line that opened my heart "all things decided in heaven but happens on earth, that is the law of God". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We became good friends fast. We talked everyday, shared stories, and sometime he would call me and I got the chance to listen to his voice which I liked a lot. He sent me flower, doll, and some gifts to show that he cares. It didn't take much effort to get along with him, it seemed like we just understand each other and accept one another for who we are. He even didn't mind seeing me early in the morning when I just woke up with sleepy messy face, he said "it doesn't matter, let me see u". We shared a lot of things in common for example we both like slow romantic songs, we both believe in destiny, we both stubborn in the way that we don't care what people say about our relationship. They can say this was just for fun, they can say this was irrational, and they can say we better wake up and find someone real. However, we both ignored them. He would assure me that we can make it and he will be with me always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days went by and it was on the sixth month that he said he would come to visit me so that we can meet in person. Things didn't go well, he couldn't get his visa on time. You would have guessed what they said when he didn't come... yes they said "See what I told you, don't expect much from him. Better you find someone near". I shrugged it although I did feel sad. Then I waited another six months while he tried to get his visa again. This time our effort paid off, he got the visa with expiry date on October 2010. We both were so happy thinking that finally we will be able to see each other in person. He told me he wanted to go to his hometown before visiting me. I never thought that things could go wrong this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 2010 passed by, then August, and September followed... still he didn't book his ticket to Jakarta. He would come up with his excuses, and the last one was that his father got sick which I think is true. But for me that is still an excuse. Why did he wait until the last days? Why didn't he come straight after he got his visa? I can get myself frustrated if I think about it, but the fact that he decided to not come can't be changed. I was devastated, this time he really blew away his last chance. I should come out and tell them all that they win and I lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasted another one year on a failed story... but a saying goes "every relationship is destined to be over except the one that isn't". I just need one that works out. So here I am closing another chapter of my love life, mending my heart for the next chapter. Wishing and hoping that the next story will be the one that works out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8775822503680510309?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8775822503680510309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8775822503680510309' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8775822503680510309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8775822503680510309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2010/10/just-another-sad-story.html' title='Just Another Sad Story'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1867234173931454370</id><published>2010-07-29T20:59:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T21:03:26.124+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/TFGJ3zu75uI/AAAAAAAAAWM/hqjCBfWWvFE/s1600/37610_1502130427128_1050222884_1442186_1337516_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/TFGJ3zu75uI/AAAAAAAAAWM/hqjCBfWWvFE/s400/37610_1502130427128_1050222884_1442186_1337516_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499328211868968674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evening, I'm waiting for my bus to go home. This side of the road is full of workers who, like me, are waiting for their buses. Not usual, the street is jammed and the air is starting to fill with carbon. The sun is setting, making the sky darker bit by bit... My bus still hasn't shown up. It is kinda feel lonely to wait here alone.&lt;br /&gt;It has been a week since he left for Pakistan, and we practically didn't chat since. He would text me everyday, sometime early in the afternoon, sometime late in the evening. Today he hasn't texted me, while I have been waiting since morning. Could he forget? Doesn't he miss me?&lt;br /&gt;I really want to text him but I think I shouldn't, if he doesn't miss me then I better not make him thinks that I miss him. However, honestly I desperately miss him. How I wish he is here with me, accompanying me waiting for my bus. How can I say that I have a boyfriend if he is not here when I need him? Now the sky is getting darker and I'm feeling more lonely....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1867234173931454370?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1867234173931454370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1867234173931454370' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1867234173931454370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1867234173931454370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2010/07/missing-him.html' title='Missing Him'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/TFGJ3zu75uI/AAAAAAAAAWM/hqjCBfWWvFE/s72-c/37610_1502130427128_1050222884_1442186_1337516_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2709854044830547446</id><published>2010-03-15T12:17:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T12:28:24.545+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Update About Him</title><content type='html'>It will be my last post about him, as I have decided to let him live his own life. &lt;br /&gt;After four months absent, three days ago he came in contact with me and told me that he has moved to another country with his wife to setup a business. He also told me that he is soon going to be a father and would like to name her 'Frita' if it is a daughter. He said he is very happy.&lt;br /&gt;It was not easy to know he is going to be a father because it only means that he loves his wife and perfectly living his life... there's no more place for me. His words kept resounding in my head "I'm soon going to be a father"&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized that I don't want to indulge myself in my fantasies about him anymore, I don't want to be the bad person who keeps a feeling for someone else's husband. It should be over here and now.&lt;br /&gt;It took me three days to make up my mind, that is why I didn't write this earlier. However, I'm feeling better now and I have the courage to live my own life happily too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2709854044830547446?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2709854044830547446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2709854044830547446' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2709854044830547446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2709854044830547446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2010/03/last-update-about-him.html' title='Last Update About Him'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5886200131696418032</id><published>2010-01-31T14:05:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T14:09:22.908+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Vow</title><content type='html'>This is the song that very well pictures my relationship with him. It has been two and a half month since he is married to her but I still can't overcome this sadness.&lt;br /&gt;Broken Vow by Lara Fabian&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Tell me her name&lt;br /&gt;I want to know&lt;br /&gt;The way she looks&lt;br /&gt;And where you go&lt;br /&gt;I need to see her face&lt;br /&gt;I need to understand&lt;br /&gt;Why you and I came to an end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me again&lt;br /&gt;I want to hear&lt;br /&gt;Who broke my faith in all these years&lt;br /&gt;Who lays with you at night&lt;br /&gt;While I'm here all alone&lt;br /&gt;Remembering when I was your own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let you go&lt;br /&gt;I let you fly&lt;br /&gt;Why do I keep on asking why&lt;br /&gt;I let you go&lt;br /&gt;Now that I found&lt;br /&gt;A way to keep somehow&lt;br /&gt;More than a broken vow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me the words I never said&lt;br /&gt;Show me the tears you never shed&lt;br /&gt;Give me the touch&lt;br /&gt;That one you promised to be mine&lt;br /&gt;Or has it vanished for all time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And dream of you and I&lt;br /&gt;And then I realize&lt;br /&gt;There's more to love than only bitterness and lies&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd give away my soul&lt;br /&gt;To hold you once again&lt;br /&gt;And never let this promise end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5886200131696418032?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5886200131696418032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5886200131696418032' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5886200131696418032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5886200131696418032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2010/01/broken-vow.html' title='Broken Vow'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5780624429953408433</id><published>2009-11-25T12:06:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T12:16:03.289+07:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Signs That He's A Great Guy</title><content type='html'>___ He Cares About Your Needs&lt;br /&gt;    Your happiness and well-being are major priorities to him &lt;br /&gt;    and he actively works to contribute to them. &lt;br /&gt;    (Beware of men whose three favorite words are "Me, me, and&lt;br /&gt;    Me". While self-absorbed men can be attractive at first,&lt;br /&gt;    exuding charm and confidence, that act will wear thin&lt;br /&gt;    faster than he can say, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's&lt;br /&gt;    the hottest dude of all?" The truth about narcissists is&lt;br /&gt;    they are so obsessed with loving themselves that they are&lt;br /&gt;    incapable of truly loving another person. Don't take a&lt;br /&gt;    backseat to someone else's rabid ego!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He Treats You Well&lt;br /&gt;    He treats you with respect and consideration at all times.&lt;br /&gt;    Here's a quick way to gauge this: How do you feel when&lt;br /&gt;    you're around him - happy, relaxed, safe? If he makes you&lt;br /&gt;    feel uneasy, insecure, controlled, or unsafe, he is&lt;br /&gt;    definitely not a GREAT guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He Treats Others Well&lt;br /&gt;    He's friendly with his doorman. He's he kind to waitresses&lt;br /&gt;    and generous with tips. If he's pleasant with other people&lt;br /&gt;    it's a good sign that he's not just putting on an act for&lt;br /&gt;    you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's in a Balanced Emotional State&lt;br /&gt;    In a word, he's stable (not overly jaded, doesn't have&lt;br /&gt;    excessive 'emotional baggage,' rage issues or out-of-&lt;br /&gt;    control mood swings).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He Has a Healthy Relationship Track Record&lt;br /&gt;    What is his dating history like? If he's had a few&lt;br /&gt;    semi-serious to serious relationships that he can look&lt;br /&gt;    back on as worthwhile experiences (without still holding&lt;br /&gt;    onto feelings for his exes or being excessively bitter),&lt;br /&gt;    chances are good that he's capable of a healthy&lt;br /&gt;    relationship with you.&lt;br /&gt;    However, if he was the king of one-night stands or he&lt;br /&gt;    hasn't dated much (or at all), these could be red flags.&lt;br /&gt;    If you know other women he's dated, what they have to say&lt;br /&gt;    about him could provide valuable clues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's Got a Good Relationship With His Family&lt;br /&gt;    If he's close with his family - treats his parents with&lt;br /&gt;    respect and is friendly with his siblings, these are all&lt;br /&gt;    good signs of a quality man. (HOWEVER....BEWARE OF THE&lt;br /&gt;    MAMA'S BOY! A man who hasn't "cut the cord" with his mother&lt;br /&gt;    is nothing but trouble...either he'll expect you to wait on&lt;br /&gt;    him and make his bed OR you'll spend your life trying to&lt;br /&gt;    live up to the perfect image of Mommy...Either way, it's&lt;br /&gt;    not good - so get out now and save yourself for a man who&lt;br /&gt;    will make you the #1 woman in his life!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's Mature&lt;br /&gt;    He demonstrates maturity on an intellectual and emotional&lt;br /&gt;    level. He follows through on his responsibilities. (This is&lt;br /&gt;    not the kind of guy who will blow off a commitment to stay&lt;br /&gt;    home and play Xbox!) He is clearly ready to meet the&lt;br /&gt;    obligations of an adult relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's Got a Stable Career&lt;br /&gt;    He has a good job or is pursuing an education. This&lt;br /&gt;    shows responsibility and maturity. (If he is content&lt;br /&gt;    not to work and just sponge off other people [especially&lt;br /&gt;    his parents] this is a bad sign!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's Got Passion&lt;br /&gt;    He has goals and dreams for his future and is committed&lt;br /&gt;    to pursuing them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He Has Good Health &amp; Habits&lt;br /&gt;    He takes good care of himself (eats well, goes to the&lt;br /&gt;    gym, etc.). He does not exhibit any deal-breaker behaviors&lt;br /&gt;    (Drug or alcohol abuse, smoking, etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He's On Your Level Mentally &amp; Emotionally&lt;br /&gt;    He can hold his own in a discussion about world events.&lt;br /&gt;    He challenges you intellectually. He's capable of having&lt;br /&gt;    conversations that are deeper than the weather or where&lt;br /&gt;    you want to go for dinner. Remember, intense physical&lt;br /&gt;    attraction may come and go, but a man that can keep you&lt;br /&gt;    on your toes in everyday conversation is truly a man that&lt;br /&gt;    can hold your interest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___ He Shows Potential for Commitment&lt;br /&gt;    When you begin dating someone, you can never really be&lt;br /&gt;    sure if he's interested in a serious commitment or a fun&lt;br /&gt;    little fling. But you can take a calculated risk. There are&lt;br /&gt;    ways to glean clues about his intentions by observing his&lt;br /&gt;    current lifestyle. If he's young, has a reputation for being&lt;br /&gt;    a "player," or hangs out with single buddies who are into "the&lt;br /&gt;    scene," it could be a long while before he's ready to settle&lt;br /&gt;    down. If, however, his circle of friends are in serious&lt;br /&gt;    relationships/engaged and/or getting married there is a good&lt;br /&gt;    chance that he'll be ready for that phase himself soon enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;That was taken from Paige Parker's Dating Dish.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, actually I only want to write "I miss my lion" in this entry, but think of it as too short of a reading for you, I copied that Dating Dish.&lt;br /&gt;Do you think he still read my blog? He said he reads it from time to time, but that was long time ago when we were still in a good communication. Now that we rarely talk to each other, I'm not sure if he still read my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5780624429953408433?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5780624429953408433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5780624429953408433' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5780624429953408433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5780624429953408433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/11/12-signs-that-hes-great-guy.html' title='12 Signs That He&apos;s A Great Guy'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2457005961688056515</id><published>2009-11-13T22:33:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T22:50:52.181+07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Live A Different Life</title><content type='html'>It was raining very hard this evening. I needed to stay long under the rain while I was waiting for my bus to go home from work. The air was cold and the wind blew hard, my umbrella couldn't help much to keep me from getting wet.... then my mind wandered to him.&lt;br /&gt;September 17 wasn't the last time I talked to him. He told me that he went to Rome for a vacation and couldn't reach me. So we talked several times more after that, but our important conversation took place a few days ago.&lt;br /&gt;He came and told me that he should apologize to me for whatever I think he did wrong and for whatever he didn't do to me. He wished me the best, wished that I find my man and have a beautiful life. So this was a better goodbye, right? &lt;br /&gt;Today is his nikah ceremony with her. I'm imagining a party where all of the families come and have a good time. It can't be raining there.&lt;br /&gt;Just a little wishes from me, "I wish you a happy marriage until you grow old together with her"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2457005961688056515?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2457005961688056515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2457005961688056515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2457005961688056515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2457005961688056515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-live-different-life.html' title='We Live A Different Life'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1385699709753557167</id><published>2009-11-12T19:31:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:35:40.525+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Closed Up Poppies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SvwAb9Pn_cI/AAAAAAAAATM/mMysYYFcR0M/s1600-h/3512751584_53cbe3f248.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SvwAb9Pn_cI/AAAAAAAAATM/mMysYYFcR0M/s400/3512751584_53cbe3f248.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403194133234318786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think that poppies are fragile and soft, yet very beautiful?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1385699709753557167?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1385699709753557167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1385699709753557167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1385699709753557167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1385699709753557167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/11/closed-up-poppies.html' title='Closed Up Poppies'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SvwAb9Pn_cI/AAAAAAAAATM/mMysYYFcR0M/s72-c/3512751584_53cbe3f248.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8031529184323829797</id><published>2009-11-03T12:47:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T12:48:01.383+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exit Strategy: Vanish Like A Thin Air</title><content type='html'>When was the last time I had a talk with him? Hmm it was on September 17, 2009. &lt;br /&gt;What was his line? He said, "I love only you". I replied, "really you do?". He assured me, "oh yes, I do".&lt;br /&gt;Then he is just vanished like a thin air, no single word from him since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think when a guy did such thing? Was he out of his mind when he said that L word? And when he realized what that word really means, he suddenly felt the need to back up? Doesn't it mean that he wasn't in love with her? Big YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the guy I was in love with.. foolishly. I couldn't even hate him a bit for dumping me in the first place by getting engaged to another girl. After a short period of silence between us (means no talking, no contact), he came back and told me that he doesn't love his fiance. He said that he doesn't want to marry her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I felt that I got my love back. He kept saying that no matter what the condition he is in now, the one he loves is me and only me. However, I am aware that something has changed. He is not as devoted as he was before, he spent less time with me... most of the time it was me who had to beg him to spend sometime to talk to me. How embarassing, I can't believe I did that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so naive that I believed he would kept his word. He said "I will not marry her". He planned a runaway to another country so that he wouldn't marry his fiance. He booked the ticket, and asked me to come with him but he wouldn't pick me up here. He insisted that I come alone and he will meet me there. I couldn't think of it as the right thing to do, why he wouldn't come to pick me if he really needs me to be with him? So I told him that I will not come unless he picks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was when I asked him, "How can I believe that you will not leave me this time?". I remember he said that this time he will not do that again to me and will not make me hurt. Well here I am now, once again left broken hearted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, all I can do is keep my chin up and be strong to face this. There will be lonely days when I will miss him, but I should move on. I hope one day there will be an honest enough man who can keep his words to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the one I have loved: "I wish you a happy marriage".... no I lied, "I wish you a hard to endure marriage"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you are brave enough to tell me that you should leave me this time, that is a thousand times better than vanishing like this. At least you could say that you are sorry, thus I could forgive you and wish you good things&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8031529184323829797?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8031529184323829797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8031529184323829797' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8031529184323829797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8031529184323829797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/11/exit-strategy-vanish-like-thin-air.html' title='Exit Strategy: Vanish Like A Thin Air'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2738468203060274049</id><published>2009-10-22T04:45:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T04:45:17.408+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing You Confess Would Make Me Love You Less</title><content type='html'>What true love is? I believe that love is when there is nothing he confesses can make me love him less.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I heard a shocking confession from him which I couldn't describe here in details. Those are his secrets which I would take to my death bed.&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, his confession made me realize why Allah doesn't destined him to be mine. I'm sad to hear that from him, those times must be a hard time for him... but at the other hand I'm relieved. Now I can let him go, let him fly and hopefully he'll find peace in this life.&lt;br /&gt;I don't hate you for what you confessed, but it did make me love you less. I just found out that my love for you wasn't that what I believe as true love.&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked myself, "really?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2738468203060274049?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2738468203060274049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2738468203060274049' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2738468203060274049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2738468203060274049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/10/nothing-you-confess-would-make-me-love.html' title='Nothing You Confess Would Make Me Love You Less'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6658105037741179372</id><published>2009-10-20T21:08:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:14:20.793+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely Bride</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/St3E7RkmRSI/AAAAAAAAATE/82cKDzxwK3E/s1600-h/Faceless_Shadows.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/St3E7RkmRSI/AAAAAAAAATE/82cKDzxwK3E/s400/Faceless_Shadows.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394684451267953954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you my knight?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I standing here all alone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6658105037741179372?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6658105037741179372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6658105037741179372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6658105037741179372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6658105037741179372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/10/lonely-bride.html' title='Lonely Bride'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/St3E7RkmRSI/AAAAAAAAATE/82cKDzxwK3E/s72-c/Faceless_Shadows.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8228263349454849830</id><published>2009-10-20T21:00:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T21:04:21.652+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Separated</title><content type='html'>This is a song by Usher. From my lost loves to me? If only they're this thoughtful :)&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, no, no, no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love was a bird&lt;br /&gt;Then we wouldn't have wings&lt;br /&gt;If love was a sky&lt;br /&gt;We'd be blue&lt;br /&gt;If love was a choir&lt;br /&gt;You and I could never sing&lt;br /&gt;Cause love isn't for me and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love was an Oscar&lt;br /&gt;You and I could never win&lt;br /&gt;Cause we can never act out our parts&lt;br /&gt;If love is the Bible&lt;br /&gt;Then we are lost in sin&lt;br /&gt;Because its not in our hearts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't you go your way&lt;br /&gt;And I'll go mine&lt;br /&gt;Live your life, and I'll live mine&lt;br /&gt;Baby you'll do well, and I'll be fine&lt;br /&gt;Cause we're better off, separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love was a fire&lt;br /&gt;Then we have lost the spark&lt;br /&gt;Love never felt so cold&lt;br /&gt;If love was a light&lt;br /&gt;Then we're lost in the dark&lt;br /&gt;Left with no one to hold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If love was a sport&lt;br /&gt;We're not on the same team&lt;br /&gt;You and I are destined to lose&lt;br /&gt;If love was an ocean&lt;br /&gt;Then we are just a stream&lt;br /&gt;Cause love isn't for me and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't you go your way&lt;br /&gt;And I'll go mine&lt;br /&gt;Live your life, and I'll live mine&lt;br /&gt;Baby you'll do well, and I'll be fine&lt;br /&gt;Cause we're better off, separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl I know we had some good times&lt;br /&gt;It's sad but now we gotta say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Girl you know I love you, I can't deny&lt;br /&gt;I can't say we didn't try to make it work for you and I&lt;br /&gt;I know it hurts so much but it's best for us&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along this windy road we lost the trust&lt;br /&gt;So I'll walk away so you don't have to see me cry&lt;br /&gt;It's killing me so, why don't you go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't you go your way&lt;br /&gt;And I'll go mine&lt;br /&gt;Live your life, and I'll live mine&lt;br /&gt;Baby you'll do well, and I'll be fine&lt;br /&gt;Cause we're better off, separated&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8228263349454849830?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8228263349454849830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8228263349454849830' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8228263349454849830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8228263349454849830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/10/separated.html' title='Separated'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3670637969703987382</id><published>2009-10-20T20:39:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:43:45.756+07:00</updated><title type='text'>His Past is His Future</title><content type='html'>This entry was actually posted on Monday, August 31, 2009&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel when the one you love told you that you are the only&lt;br /&gt;one he loves?&lt;br /&gt;But another minute he gave you a devastating answer to your question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm not the first to have a hold on his heart. Long ago before&lt;br /&gt;me, she was there and she had all of him. He told me how they think&lt;br /&gt;they were meant to be together and that they are made for each other.&lt;br /&gt;He told me that she was all of his firsts... first love, first kiss,&lt;br /&gt;first partner. He told me that moments spent with her were the best&lt;br /&gt;times of his life. Now she's gone. I thought all those will remain as&lt;br /&gt;memories and stay in the past but I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I asked him a question, "What if we both died and then we&lt;br /&gt;meet her there? What are you going to do?". He replied, "I will choose&lt;br /&gt;her but can't let you go".&lt;br /&gt;My heart sank the second he said that he will choose her. It means he&lt;br /&gt;still long for the day to be with her once again. It means that is the&lt;br /&gt;ultimate future that he dreams of. His past is his future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what am I doing here? I think he doesn't love me that much, never&lt;br /&gt;as much as he loved her. He doesn't need me, not as much as he needed her. I'm only worthy for the time being, for present when he can't be with her yet. Do I deserve this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to know that the one I love will choose another woman over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Frita Amrita at 7:56 AM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3670637969703987382?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3670637969703987382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3670637969703987382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3670637969703987382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3670637969703987382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/10/his-past-is-his-future_20.html' title='His Past is His Future'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-444506477259856565</id><published>2009-07-15T18:29:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:37:39.415+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Addicted To You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sl2-bp6iB_I/AAAAAAAAAS8/JHsYQyi55uM/s1600-h/lawn+in+Zagreb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sl2-bp6iB_I/AAAAAAAAAS8/JHsYQyi55uM/s400/lawn+in+Zagreb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358648513957857266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to you&lt;br /&gt;I can't get you out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;I only live when you are around&lt;br /&gt;I want to breathe you in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to you&lt;br /&gt;As a drug user is addicted to opium&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-444506477259856565?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/444506477259856565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=444506477259856565' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/444506477259856565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/444506477259856565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/07/field-of-poppies.html' title='Addicted To You'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sl2-bp6iB_I/AAAAAAAAAS8/JHsYQyi55uM/s72-c/lawn+in+Zagreb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-760292337879273228</id><published>2009-06-19T18:29:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T18:33:26.223+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go Of Love</title><content type='html'>This is from the movie 'The Holiday'&lt;br /&gt;Although it is hurting me to see him leaving, I have to live my life like I should and I have to be strong... have faith that eventually one day I will be in my happy ever after with or without him.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-760292337879273228?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/760292337879273228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=760292337879273228' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/760292337879273228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/760292337879273228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/06/letting-go-of-love.html' title='Letting Go Of Love'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7523003828045280122</id><published>2009-06-14T19:39:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T19:44:29.283+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winner Takes It All</title><content type='html'>I watched Mamma Mia the movie this evening, they sang many songs but this one really hit me on the heart. I was thinking that I'm the loser and she is the winner. Beside the victory is where she is standing now. How should I let her takes him away?&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna talk&lt;br /&gt;About the things we've gone through&lt;br /&gt;Though it's hurting me&lt;br /&gt;Now it's history&lt;br /&gt;I've played all my cards&lt;br /&gt;And that's what you've done too&lt;br /&gt;Nothing more to say&lt;br /&gt;No more ace to play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;br /&gt;The loser standing small&lt;br /&gt;Beside the victory&lt;br /&gt;That's her destiny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in your arms&lt;br /&gt;Thinking I belonged there&lt;br /&gt;I figured it made sense&lt;br /&gt;Building me a fence&lt;br /&gt;Building me a home&lt;br /&gt;Thinking I'd be strong there&lt;br /&gt;But I was a fool&lt;br /&gt;Playing by the rules&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gods may throw a dice&lt;br /&gt;Their minds as cold as ice&lt;br /&gt;And someone way down here&lt;br /&gt;Loses someone dear&lt;br /&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;br /&gt;The loser has to fall&lt;br /&gt;It's simple and it's plain&lt;br /&gt;Why should I complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tell me does she kiss&lt;br /&gt;Like I used to kiss you?&lt;br /&gt;Does it feel the same&lt;br /&gt;When she calls your name?&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere deep inside&lt;br /&gt;You must know I miss you&lt;br /&gt;But what can I say&lt;br /&gt;Rules must be obeyed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judges will decide&lt;br /&gt;The likes of me abide&lt;br /&gt;Spectators of the show&lt;br /&gt;Always staying low&lt;br /&gt;The game is on again&lt;br /&gt;A lover or a friend&lt;br /&gt;A big thing or a small&lt;br /&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna talk&lt;br /&gt;If it makes you feel sad&lt;br /&gt;And I understand&lt;br /&gt;You've come to shake my hand&lt;br /&gt;I apologize&lt;br /&gt;If it makes you feel bad&lt;br /&gt;Seeing me so tense&lt;br /&gt;No self-confidence&lt;br /&gt;But you see&lt;br /&gt;The winner takes it all&lt;br /&gt;The winner takes it all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7523003828045280122?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7523003828045280122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7523003828045280122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7523003828045280122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7523003828045280122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/06/winner-takes-it-all.html' title='The Winner Takes It All'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8181409970369357256</id><published>2009-06-02T12:25:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T12:31:41.099+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aamer Is Getting Married</title><content type='html'>Yesterday he finally told me the reason why he doesn't want to continue any relationship with me. I felt dumped.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: salam&lt;br /&gt;       hey Frita&lt;br /&gt;       you there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: waalaikumsalam&lt;br /&gt;       i got many orders today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: how r u?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: i am okay&lt;br /&gt;       not bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: nice to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: how about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: im good today&lt;br /&gt;       very happy that i have a great day at work :)&lt;br /&gt;       u know, not so many time my clients give big orders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: good for you&lt;br /&gt;       they went there, and i will get marry soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: ooh god&lt;br /&gt;       r u happy with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: i am happy for them&lt;br /&gt;       all of them&lt;br /&gt;       sacrifice is the second name of life&lt;br /&gt;       i just wish they are doing whats good for me&lt;br /&gt;       you take care please&lt;br /&gt;       i think there should be the real end of our relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: i see&lt;br /&gt;       im sure u r not going to feel bad about this marriage&lt;br /&gt;       i can see u love her too&lt;br /&gt;       :)&lt;br /&gt;       it's ok&lt;br /&gt;       we're just not meant to be together&lt;br /&gt;       although i cant deny that it hurts me so much&lt;br /&gt;       but Allah has His own fate for me&lt;br /&gt;       somehow someday i will be there and be happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: i wish you be back very very soon, soon as just the next minute&lt;br /&gt;       i got to go now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: ok&lt;br /&gt;       goodbye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aamer: goodbye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8181409970369357256?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8181409970369357256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8181409970369357256' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8181409970369357256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8181409970369357256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/06/aamer-is-getting-married.html' title='Aamer Is Getting Married'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3920375233377813635</id><published>2009-05-31T09:57:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T09:59:53.900+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abandoned</title><content type='html'>First day without him.... I barely can think of anything but him. I feel weak, very weak. I can't put on a smile on my face. I miss him a lot, it burdens my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Do you miss me too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3920375233377813635?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3920375233377813635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3920375233377813635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3920375233377813635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3920375233377813635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/05/abandoned.html' title='Abandoned'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6729694702868806398</id><published>2009-05-30T19:22:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T19:25:45.722+07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Guy Like Belam</title><content type='html'>I red this short story a few days ago, a lil bit sensual but I like the messages. Most of all, I like how the writer describes this guy named Belam. He is all manly at appearance but as well as very gentle at heart. I'd like to have a husband like that :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the link to the story&lt;br /&gt;http://www.darkfantasy.org/fantasy/?p=450&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6729694702868806398?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6729694702868806398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6729694702868806398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6729694702868806398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6729694702868806398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/05/guy-like-belam.html' title='A Guy Like Belam'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1478084716864173775</id><published>2009-05-27T19:50:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T18:59:54.234+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Save In Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sh03fGr0UEI/AAAAAAAAAS0/udGOU7fysp0/s1600-h/endless_view.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sh03fGr0UEI/AAAAAAAAAS0/udGOU7fysp0/s400/endless_view.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340485740641144898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to dive a little deeper in to my dream world. Life is too complicated for me to comprehend. I feel saver inside my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting for you to bring me back... don't take too long my love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1478084716864173775?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1478084716864173775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1478084716864173775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1478084716864173775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1478084716864173775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/05/save-in-dreams.html' title='Save In Dreams'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/Sh03fGr0UEI/AAAAAAAAAS0/udGOU7fysp0/s72-c/endless_view.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4440252154925184138</id><published>2009-05-27T12:25:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T19:27:03.066+07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's All I Ever Wanted</title><content type='html'>After sometime surviving from my lonely days which were sucking my happiness one by one, I finally were able to smile again the day he came in to my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't easy to open up my heart once more because it has broken in to pieces before. But he helped me to put those pieces back together. I don't know what it is that he did to me, what he said to me, what he showed me... I only know that he has made me fall in love completely for him. Everyday I can't wait to talk to him, to hear his voice, and to share my dreams with him. When I'm awake, it's him I'm thinking of. When I'm asleep, it's him I saw in my dreams. I guess he is there 24 hours for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy every time he told me how he loves me. He would say that he loves me more than the world itself and more than anything in this world. He told me how he long for the day when he can hold my hands, grow old with me, and still love each other even after having many kids. I never dreamed that reality can be this sweet. Time went by so fast, it was 3 months of beautiful moments I shared with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another chapter began. He is still there 24 hours for me, but not in reality. He is less available for me, made me miss him a lot when he was away. He didn't say 'I love you' as often as he used to. It's getting harder to know where I stand. I even wonder if he still loves me now. I guess I need to face the truth. Maybe these were all just my dreams and now it is almost dawn... I need to wake up. I hope so much that he will be there when I open my eyes and just tell me 'Good morning my love, do you know that I've been waiting for you to wake up just to tell you how much I love you?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't lose you Aamer... please don't let go of me. You're all I ever wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday afternoon, May 30, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Dawn finally came, he woke me up with a goodbye. I can't say much, he just doesn't want me anymore...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4440252154925184138?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4440252154925184138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4440252154925184138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4440252154925184138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4440252154925184138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/05/hes-all-i-ever-wanted.html' title='He&apos;s All I Ever Wanted'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5114168761966623950</id><published>2009-05-13T19:48:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T12:37:13.207+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed My Lion</title><content type='html'>Been sometime... I've started to get used to be without him. Never thought that I was going to miss him today.&lt;br /&gt;I've loved you once Saadat. Now I'll let you run free in your jungle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5114168761966623950?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5114168761966623950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5114168761966623950' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5114168761966623950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5114168761966623950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/05/missed-my-lion.html' title='Missed My Lion'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3539112836072533362</id><published>2009-03-15T17:22:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T20:43:50.463+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>This evening I'm home alone, my family is on a vacation for two days. They'll be back tonight. It rained heavily in the afternoon and left a cold breeze... it caresses the leafes, blows into my room, and touches me gently. It feels like a hug which doesn't make me feel warm but cold. I like the feel of the wind on my skin, makes me feel that nature cares about me. &lt;br /&gt;I'm lonely. This is something I rarely admit since I'm afraid of looking desperate, needy, or abandoned. I don't like feeling lonely, makes me feel nobody cares. But I can't help it today, I'm lonely. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for sending me your hug through the wind... it's cold but it shows that You care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3539112836072533362?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3539112836072533362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3539112836072533362' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3539112836072533362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3539112836072533362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3974142728866204843</id><published>2009-03-15T17:18:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:19:37.959+07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Tarot Card Am I ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbzWLdJ-CLI/AAAAAAAAARk/a5g7OmvyeJ4/s1600-h/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 185px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbzWLdJ-CLI/AAAAAAAAARk/a5g7OmvyeJ4/s320/12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313357152683690162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the Hanged Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self-sacrifice, Sacrifice, Devotion, Bound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the Hanged man there is often a sense of fatalism, waiting for something to happen. Or a fear of loss from a situation, rather than gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hanged Man is perhaps the most fascinating card in the deck. It reflects the story of Odin who offered himself as a sacrifice in order to gain knowledge. Hanging from the world tree, wounded by a spear, given no bread or mead, he hung for nine days. On the last day, he saw on the ground runes that had fallen from the tree, understood their meaning, and, coming down, scooped them up for his own. All knowledge is to be found in these runes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hanged Man, in similar fashion, is a card about suspension, not life or death. It signifies selflessness, sacrifice and prophecy. You make yourself vulnerable and in doing so, gain illumination. You see the world differently, with almost mystical insights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3974142728866204843?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3974142728866204843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3974142728866204843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3974142728866204843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3974142728866204843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-tarot-card-am-i.html' title='What Tarot Card Am I ?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbzWLdJ-CLI/AAAAAAAAARk/a5g7OmvyeJ4/s72-c/12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1810982293147758447</id><published>2009-03-09T17:30:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:37:31.855+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Charming Prince</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbTwMH31mNI/AAAAAAAAARA/tyBq6zfqD5I/s1600-h/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbTwMH31mNI/AAAAAAAAARA/tyBq6zfqD5I/s400/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311133951639001298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming in the pond, jumping from one lotus leaf to another. When it rains, where would you find a shelter?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1810982293147758447?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1810982293147758447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1810982293147758447' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1810982293147758447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1810982293147758447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/charming-prince.html' title='Charming Prince'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbTwMH31mNI/AAAAAAAAARA/tyBq6zfqD5I/s72-c/Charming_Prince_by_nicobou.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7649945025654945031</id><published>2009-03-09T14:45:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T14:57:20.807+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing</title><content type='html'>This guy who sang this song is nothing like a sweet or romantic person from his appearance, but he sang a very touching song. Well maybe it wasn't him who wrote the lyrics... I love it. Aerosmith - I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I could stay awake just to hear you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Watch you smile while you are sleeping&lt;br /&gt;While youre far away dreaming&lt;br /&gt;I could spend my life in this sweet surrender&lt;br /&gt;I could stay lost in this moment forever&lt;br /&gt;Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Cause Id miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I dont want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;Id still miss you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I dont want to miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying close to you feeling your heart beating&lt;br /&gt;And Im wondering what youre dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if its me youre seeing&lt;br /&gt;Then I kiss your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And thank God were together&lt;br /&gt;I just want to stay with you in this moment forever&lt;br /&gt;Forever and ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to miss one smile&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to miss one kiss&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be with you&lt;br /&gt;Right here with you, just like this&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hold you close&lt;br /&gt;Feel your heart so close to mine&lt;br /&gt;And just stay here in this moment&lt;br /&gt;For all the rest of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont want to close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7649945025654945031?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7649945025654945031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7649945025654945031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7649945025654945031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7649945025654945031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-dont-wanna-miss-thing.html' title='I Don&apos;t Wanna Miss A Thing'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7213002254363238131</id><published>2009-03-09T10:01:00.008+07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T18:54:28.845+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Would Kiss You Under The Rain</title><content type='html'>This is the third thing my husband posseses. HE IS PASSIONATE&lt;br /&gt;Oneday we had a fight because he forgot our wedding anniversary even after I reminded him the previous day about it. His excuse was that he has been very busy at work that he forgot at all about tonight. We were supposed to have a dinner together at home, where I cooked some of the meal and he would bring the dessert after work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that night he came home very late, and not even bothered to let me know earlier. I have waited since evening and got very upset when he finally came home, looking like there was nothing wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just couldn't say a word to him and went to the backyard just to sit there and calm myself when I suddenly couldn't help my tears from flowing down. He has never been this clueless but tonight I just dont know him. I sobbed and my heart pained so badly. I heard his footsteps behind me, I don't want him to see me crying. It seems Allah listened to my wish, soon the rain started falling and without hesitation I stepped in to it and just stood there crying. He wont see my tears this way. I don't care if he thinks I'm crazy for standing in the rain like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came to me without an umbrella, he hugged me from behind and said to me that he was sorry for tonight. He said, "My wife, I didn't mean to make you sad like this. I know it was my fault for forgetting our special occasion and I'm not asking you to understand why I forgot. But please don't reject me this way, I can't bear you upset on me". He then turned my back and held my face in his hands... looked at me in the eye and then he kissed me softly. I couldn't resist him and just cried even more for feeling so glad that he is still the man I love so much. "I love you more than you know", he wishpered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7213002254363238131?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7213002254363238131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7213002254363238131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7213002254363238131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7213002254363238131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-would-kiss-you-under-rain.html' title='I Would Kiss You Under The Rain'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2851650181388731957</id><published>2009-03-08T16:11:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T16:32:13.672+07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I'm Awake And Sleeping</title><content type='html'>It's been 3 days I and he exchanging emails... we were discussing about him sending me an aquarium. This idea didn't come out of nowhere, we've talked about it back then that if he find another job he'll buy me one. Time went by and he seemed to forget. I brought it up again, didn't really demand him to buy me one, just wanted to tease him... in fact I would be happy if he just send me anything, his handwritten letter would be wonderful. I could keep it for a lifetime memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is day 4, he haven't replied to my message. I waited... awake and sleeping. When I was sleeping last night, he came into my dream. Morning came and I woke up expecting his message... still none. I fell asleep again this afternoon and there he was, sent me a message which I barely remember the content. All I know is that I was smiling to get a reply from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You fill my brain and my heart... Yes I choose to think about you when I'm awake, but when I sleep why can't you let me be in peace? You invade my dreams. In reality, he's never there... I don't forget, he, my lion is still running free in the jungle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a song lyric by Rick Price - Heaven Knows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;why I live in despair&lt;br /&gt;cause wide awake&lt;br /&gt;or dreaming &lt;br /&gt;I know she's never there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2851650181388731957?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2851650181388731957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2851650181388731957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2851650181388731957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2851650181388731957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-im-awake-and-sleeping.html' title='When I&apos;m Awake And Sleeping'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1883033458349309338</id><published>2009-03-08T16:03:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T16:33:40.022+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Serenity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbOK9qB9rZI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/f82UwGwCr8g/s1600-h/sadness_and_serenity_by_grandma_S.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbOK9qB9rZI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/f82UwGwCr8g/s400/sadness_and_serenity_by_grandma_S.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310741177459125650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels like in a burial ceremony and someone is handing these white roses onto my coffin. No, I'm not going to die anytime soon, atleast I don't plan that. But if it shall happen... I want him to be the one who is handing those white roses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1883033458349309338?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1883033458349309338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1883033458349309338' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1883033458349309338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1883033458349309338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/serenity.html' title='Serenity'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SbOK9qB9rZI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/f82UwGwCr8g/s72-c/sadness_and_serenity_by_grandma_S.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-93063895957867615</id><published>2009-03-02T12:10:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T12:13:54.657+07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Better Man</title><content type='html'>This is from Shayne Ward, nice song especially because of its lyric.&lt;br /&gt;---------- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Until the oceans all run dry&lt;br /&gt;Until the stars fall from the sky&lt;br /&gt;Even if words dont seem to rhyme&lt;br /&gt;Ill be addicted to your smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if the wind blows out the sun&lt;br /&gt;Ill still believe you are the one&lt;br /&gt;No matter what we're going through&lt;br /&gt;I'll plan to spend my nights with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise you my heart wont fade&lt;br /&gt;I swear to you my soul always&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to understand&lt;br /&gt;You're making me a better man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby my love will say it all&lt;br /&gt;I'll always catch you when you fall&lt;br /&gt;And if the hard times get too much&lt;br /&gt;I'll still be craving for your touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise you my heart wont fade&lt;br /&gt;I swear to you my soul always&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to understand&lt;br /&gt;You're making me a better man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dedicate my world&lt;br /&gt;I dedicate my all&lt;br /&gt;For every moment&lt;br /&gt;Your leaving me breathless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dedicate my touch&lt;br /&gt;Forevers not enough&lt;br /&gt;I wanna hold on&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna hold on to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise you my heart wont fade&lt;br /&gt;I swear to you my soul always&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to understand&lt;br /&gt;You're making me a better man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to understand, your making me a better man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-93063895957867615?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/93063895957867615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=93063895957867615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/93063895957867615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/93063895957867615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/03/better-man.html' title='A Better Man'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8056594059646777040</id><published>2009-02-16T23:18:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T23:46:22.276+07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Can I Move On When I'm Still In Love With You?</title><content type='html'>I went singing with my friends this evening and just came back with a mixed emotions. We sang some songs, have fun, and laughed untill it came to the song of Linkin Park tittled In The End... it was his song. I red through the lyrics and somehow I felt sad, it felt like I understand how painful those times were for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I kept everything inside&lt;br /&gt;And even though I tried, it all fell apart&lt;br /&gt;What it meant to me will eventually be&lt;br /&gt;A memory of a time when&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried so hard and got so far&lt;br /&gt;But in the end it doesn't even matter&lt;br /&gt;I had to fall to lose it all&lt;br /&gt;But in the end it doesn't even matter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've put my trust in you&lt;br /&gt;Pushed as far as I can go&lt;br /&gt;And for all this&lt;br /&gt;There's only one thing you should know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got so far&lt;br /&gt;Things aren't the way they were before&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't even recognize me anymore&lt;br /&gt;Not that you knew me back then&lt;br /&gt;But it all comes back to me in the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt empty suddenly... couldn't deny that I miss him so much. I'm wondering what he is doing now, how he is, and if he misses me. I feel like reaching out to him, hold him near and never let go. &lt;br /&gt;Tell me, will I push you away by trying to get close to you?&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid your answer will be yes, so here I am writing all of these. Nothing much I can do to get close to you without pushing you away.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you with all my heart... and it is because I am in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;If that sounds weird to you, just ignore it. Take it as it is, dont ask why, dont ask how... it's just I am still in love with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8056594059646777040?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8056594059646777040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8056594059646777040' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8056594059646777040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8056594059646777040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-can-i-move-on-when-im-still-in-love.html' title='How Can I Move On When I&apos;m Still In Love With You?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2500957987265632032</id><published>2009-02-07T09:13:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:19:04.821+07:00</updated><title type='text'>His Screen Name</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday I saw his screen name online at google talk, I think I stopped breathing for a while in my disbelief that he came online. I felt like saying hi to him but I held back. He might didn't come online for me, maybe he has another friend who uses gtalk.... and he came to talk with his friend. &lt;br /&gt;I think none of my guess was right, he went offline after few mins.&lt;br /&gt;I was relieved somehow, maybe because I wouldn't have to think about what to say to him if at all he said hello.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him so much though....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2500957987265632032?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2500957987265632032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2500957987265632032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2500957987265632032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2500957987265632032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/02/his-screen-name.html' title='His Screen Name'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3715949513159350386</id><published>2009-01-17T23:48:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T23:45:38.907+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Save Gaza</title><content type='html'>Let's stop the war and dream in peace while you are sleeping. Read Al Fath 26-27, may Allah keep our brothers and sisters in Palestine safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3715949513159350386?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3715949513159350386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3715949513159350386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3715949513159350386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3715949513159350386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/01/save-gaza.html' title='Save Gaza'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4249339482753370070</id><published>2009-01-16T20:15:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T20:47:29.620+07:00</updated><title type='text'>...and I Miss You</title><content type='html'>I didn't count how many days have gone without you&lt;br /&gt;I didn't count how many times you came in to my dreams&lt;br /&gt;I didn't count how many letters this fingers tried to write to you&lt;br /&gt;I didn't count how many tears felt like flowing down my cheek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it 30 days full of loneliness?&lt;br /&gt;Is it every night I dreamed of you?&lt;br /&gt;Is it millions of unspoken letter?&lt;br /&gt;Is it as much as every drop of water in the ocean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew...&lt;br /&gt;All I counted was the joyful moments I shared with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were with me everyday.. made me think you'll stay forever&lt;br /&gt;You were my dreams come true.. made me think you're real&lt;br /&gt;You read me into my heart.. made me think words are unnecessary&lt;br /&gt;You laughed with me.. made me think there'll be no more cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew...&lt;br /&gt;All I had with you ended that day when I woke up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and I miss you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4249339482753370070?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4249339482753370070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4249339482753370070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4249339482753370070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4249339482753370070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-i-miss-you.html' title='...and I Miss You'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5497405747445267441</id><published>2009-01-11T20:00:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:12:44.308+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks To Pak'e</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWnwHb_U7GI/AAAAAAAAAQY/uhnJgvBJLkY/s1600-h/hello_bune_by_pak%27e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWnwHb_U7GI/AAAAAAAAAQY/uhnJgvBJLkY/s400/hello_bune_by_pak%27e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290023247886478434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5497405747445267441?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5497405747445267441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5497405747445267441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5497405747445267441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5497405747445267441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/01/thanks-to-pake.html' title='Thanks To Pak&apos;e'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWnwHb_U7GI/AAAAAAAAAQY/uhnJgvBJLkY/s72-c/hello_bune_by_pak%27e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2326058803233239930</id><published>2009-01-11T19:44:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T12:34:20.784+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWrTBUKCkuI/AAAAAAAAAQg/13wYdc8uBYc/s1600-h/lucu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWrTBUKCkuI/AAAAAAAAAQg/13wYdc8uBYc/s320/lucu.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290272731844219618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWns_As58vI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/r1VjmpOgnbE/s1600-h/SNC10444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWns_As58vI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/r1VjmpOgnbE/s320/SNC10444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290019804587619058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2326058803233239930?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2326058803233239930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2326058803233239930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2326058803233239930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2326058803233239930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2009/01/me-again.html' title='Me Again'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SWrTBUKCkuI/AAAAAAAAAQg/13wYdc8uBYc/s72-c/lucu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5325737469955318449</id><published>2008-12-20T18:53:00.009+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T19:27:41.654+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Home Interior</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzkuCHFC4I/AAAAAAAAAQI/UDTfCDUq57Q/s1600-h/kids+bedroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzkuCHFC4I/AAAAAAAAAQI/UDTfCDUq57Q/s320/kids+bedroom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281847942490426242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzhkHTqmYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/9NIE60Fv7c4/s1600-h/bedroom-design4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 158px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzhkHTqmYI/AAAAAAAAAQA/9NIE60Fv7c4/s320/bedroom-design4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281844473551821186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgtYPC0nI/AAAAAAAAAP4/0nr9GYhogFI/s1600-h/freeform_swimming_pool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgtYPC0nI/AAAAAAAAAP4/0nr9GYhogFI/s320/freeform_swimming_pool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281843533203034738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgkzGkwhI/AAAAAAAAAPw/dX7KRlbrWlg/s1600-h/living-room-furniture5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgkzGkwhI/AAAAAAAAAPw/dX7KRlbrWlg/s320/living-room-furniture5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281843385796444690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgV1Cf4pI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MA5SsYNVcT8/s1600-h/suspended-bed-on-rope.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgV1Cf4pI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MA5SsYNVcT8/s320/suspended-bed-on-rope.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281843128618181266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgM19CPxI/AAAAAAAAAPg/UHYwOSGO3-A/s1600-h/time-kitchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgM19CPxI/AAAAAAAAAPg/UHYwOSGO3-A/s320/time-kitchen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281842974244880146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgDoU2DcI/AAAAAAAAAPY/tfXyldzYW_k/s1600-h/kasch-bathtubs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzgDoU2DcI/AAAAAAAAAPY/tfXyldzYW_k/s320/kasch-bathtubs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281842815967825346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?? I think I heard there's a kind of snail that kills human. Television program nowadays getting more weird than ever.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this is how I like my house to be looked like from inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5325737469955318449?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5325737469955318449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5325737469955318449' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5325737469955318449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5325737469955318449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/dream-home-interior.html' title='Dream Home Interior'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUzkuCHFC4I/AAAAAAAAAQI/UDTfCDUq57Q/s72-c/kids+bedroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8580215267634309193</id><published>2008-12-17T12:18:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T12:29:17.859+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUiOKLXMDeI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/N7gwDVXaXP0/s1600-h/savingfrita.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 106px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUiOKLXMDeI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/N7gwDVXaXP0/s200/savingfrita.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280626868591791586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUiMJToGwzI/AAAAAAAAAPI/napuSNecK0Q/s1600-h/IMG_2117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUiMJToGwzI/AAAAAAAAAPI/napuSNecK0Q/s200/IMG_2117.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280624654607106866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm still doesn't look like me. Anyway I like that it is drawn from my picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8580215267634309193?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8580215267634309193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8580215267634309193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8580215267634309193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8580215267634309193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/me_17.html' title='Me?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUiOKLXMDeI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/N7gwDVXaXP0/s72-c/savingfrita.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6757371721111903459</id><published>2008-12-17T07:43:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T12:18:19.225+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Away</title><content type='html'>Here is a song lyric by Chicago. I heard the song this morning and it kinda hit me on the heart&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Well, you called me up this morning&lt;br /&gt;Told me 'bout the new love that you found&lt;br /&gt;Said, "I'm happy for you. I'm really happy for you."&lt;br /&gt;Found someone else, I guess I won't be coming 'round&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's over, baby&lt;br /&gt;It's really over, baby,&lt;br /&gt;And from what you're saying&lt;br /&gt;I know you've gotten over me&lt;br /&gt;It'll never be the way it used to be&lt;br /&gt;So if it's gotta be this way&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, baby, I can take the news okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you see me walking by, and the tears are in my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;Look away, baby, look away.&lt;br /&gt;If we meet on the street some day, and I don't know what to say,&lt;br /&gt;Look away, baby, look away.&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me, I don't want you to see me this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we both agreed as lovers&lt;br /&gt;We were better off as friends&lt;br /&gt;That's how it had to be&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's how it had to be&lt;br /&gt;I tell you I'm fine, but sometimes I just pretend&lt;br /&gt;Wish you were holding me, wish you were still holding me,&lt;br /&gt;I just never thought&lt;br /&gt;That I would be replaced so soon&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't prepared to hear those words from you&lt;br /&gt;I know I wanted to be free&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, baby this is how we wanted it to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you see me walking by, and the tears are in my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;Look away, baby, look away.&lt;br /&gt;And if we meet on the street some day, and I don't know what to say,&lt;br /&gt;Look away, baby, look away.&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me, I don't want you to see me this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you called me up this morning&lt;br /&gt;Told me 'bout the new love that you found&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I'm happy for you. I'm really happy for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6757371721111903459?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6757371721111903459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6757371721111903459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6757371721111903459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6757371721111903459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/look-away.html' title='Look Away'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-850632404273616753</id><published>2008-12-16T18:18:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T18:24:38.320+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cant't Cry Hard Enough</title><content type='html'>This is a song from Williams Brother... hiks hiks I can't cry hard enough for you to hear me now.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I'm gonna live my life&lt;br /&gt;Like everyday's the last&lt;br /&gt;Without a simple goodbye&lt;br /&gt;It all goes by so fast&lt;br /&gt;And now that you're gone&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;No I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;For you to hear me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I open my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And see for the first time&lt;br /&gt;I've let go of you like&lt;br /&gt;A child letting go of his kite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it goes&lt;br /&gt;Up in the sky&lt;br /&gt;There it goes&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the clouds&lt;br /&gt;For no reason why&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;No I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;For you to hear me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I look back in vain&lt;br /&gt;And see you standing there&lt;br /&gt;With all that remains&lt;br /&gt;Its just an empty chair&lt;br /&gt;And now that you're gone&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;No I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;For you to hear me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it goes&lt;br /&gt;Up in the sky&lt;br /&gt;There it goes&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the clouds&lt;br /&gt;For no reason why&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;No I can't cry hard enough&lt;br /&gt;For you to hear me now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-850632404273616753?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/850632404273616753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=850632404273616753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/850632404273616753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/850632404273616753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/cantt-cry-hard-enough.html' title='Cant&apos;t Cry Hard Enough'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-9210257120408872119</id><published>2008-12-16T12:04:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:21:07.954+07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can't Mess With Me</title><content type='html'>Hi Hi :)&lt;br /&gt;Wonderful morning isn't it? Laughed with the boss on the way to the office. Had a good chat with my clients.. discussed about Netherland. You know what, there aren't many tulips can be seen anywhere in Netherland, you can only see tulips in certain places. Bicycling will be a fun thing to do there since cities in Netherland are not so dense, quiet, and showered with light rain most of the time :)) niceeee weather. Hmm maybe I could go there someday... soon :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thinking back about the heart broken relations I had made me realize that it was my weakness of letting things went out of what I accept as "good" and let them messed with me. Yes, that was really wrong! I shouldn't have ignore my boundaries, I shouldn't have let things turned out ugly for me, I shouldn't have let them messed with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DESERVE the man I WANT. I will not forget my happy ever after.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to throw my confidence and self esteem down the toilet again. I will recognize when things go beyond my boundaries, and that time I will not put any energy to make them right. It will be the time I say surely "You can't mess with me"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-9210257120408872119?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/9210257120408872119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=9210257120408872119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9210257120408872119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9210257120408872119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-cant-mess-with-me.html' title='You Can&apos;t Mess With Me'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1917841700498004822</id><published>2008-12-12T18:54:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T18:28:20.314+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUeQuTksB4I/AAAAAAAAAPA/FUlGV-aBBDM/s1600-h/IMG_2538.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUeQuTksB4I/AAAAAAAAAPA/FUlGV-aBBDM/s200/IMG_2538.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280348213317732226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUJRjz2VLBI/AAAAAAAAAO4/Fqa8h28V3f0/s1600-h/grafitti.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUJRjz2VLBI/AAAAAAAAAO4/Fqa8h28V3f0/s400/grafitti.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278871388887002130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huehehehe after posting the handsome Paul Walker... look at this weird grafitti of me :P Sorry can't help that he didn't draw it properly. I'm still pretty though&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1917841700498004822?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1917841700498004822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1917841700498004822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1917841700498004822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1917841700498004822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/me.html' title='Me??'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUeQuTksB4I/AAAAAAAAAPA/FUlGV-aBBDM/s72-c/IMG_2538.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6881838767806297187</id><published>2008-12-12T18:45:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T18:50:59.508+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paul Walker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUJPjOhrE5I/AAAAAAAAAOw/T55I83vcXss/s1600-h/paul-walker-picture-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUJPjOhrE5I/AAAAAAAAAOw/T55I83vcXss/s400/paul-walker-picture-5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278869179844989842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect face :)&lt;br /&gt;Anyway for you who doesn't know him, he starred "Too Fast Too Furious" movie. What??? you don't agree that he is good looking? hehe I won't bother. He deserves to be in my blog!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6881838767806297187?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6881838767806297187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6881838767806297187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6881838767806297187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6881838767806297187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/paul-walker.html' title='Paul Walker'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SUJPjOhrE5I/AAAAAAAAAOw/T55I83vcXss/s72-c/paul-walker-picture-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6620225526669821817</id><published>2008-12-12T07:54:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T18:23:45.443+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Longer</title><content type='html'>This is a song from David Archuleta, I think he wasn't the original singer but I like his version :) Ooh i just googled it and found out that the original singer was Dan Fogelberg.&lt;br /&gt;Been singing this song a lot lately... in the bathroom, at work, and on the way home &lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean&lt;br /&gt;Higher than any bird ever flew&lt;br /&gt;Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens&lt;br /&gt;I've been in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stronger than any mountain cathedral&lt;br /&gt;Truer than any tree ever grew&lt;br /&gt;Deeper than any forest primeval&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll bring fire in the winters&lt;br /&gt;You'll send showers in the springs&lt;br /&gt;We'll fly through the falls and summers&lt;br /&gt;With love on our wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the years as the fire starts to mellow&lt;br /&gt;Burning lines in the book of our lives&lt;br /&gt;Though the binding cracks and the pages start to yellow&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean&lt;br /&gt;Higher than any bird ever flew&lt;br /&gt;Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens&lt;br /&gt;I've been in love with you&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with you.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6620225526669821817?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6620225526669821817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6620225526669821817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6620225526669821817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6620225526669821817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/longer.html' title='Longer'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5406899426757025124</id><published>2008-12-10T12:19:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:08:03.079+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting For Him</title><content type='html'>12.19 pm and I haven't joined my colleagues for lunch. I prefer to sit here, listening music, and write this down. I sent him an email this morning since I couldn't bear to stay away from him, I don't have any more strength to keep it cool. I miss him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;I hope after he read that email he will come and talk to me like usual. Here I am waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've acted very silly last week, told him that I don't want to talk to him... so much untrue!! Please don't leave, please talk to me. &lt;br /&gt;Sometime I wonder if this is what he's been waiting for, the moment that will get him out of my life. There I made a way out for him by saying that I don't want to talk to him. Oh my God it hurts me so much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please show me that this is not what u want, talk to me. Here I am waiting"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.58pm I'm at home. He didn't show up to talk to me but he replied to my email. I think I should be content with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll try my best to not to reach out to u again..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5406899426757025124?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5406899426757025124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5406899426757025124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5406899426757025124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5406899426757025124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/waiting-for-him.html' title='Waiting For Him'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4604334854953834409</id><published>2008-12-08T21:07:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:09:43.833+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somebody's Me</title><content type='html'>This song by Enrique Iglesias... represents my feelings now&lt;br /&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You, do you remember me?&lt;br /&gt;Like I remember you?&lt;br /&gt;Do you spend your life&lt;br /&gt;Going back in your mind to that time?&lt;br /&gt;Because I, I walk the streets alone&lt;br /&gt;I hate being on my own&lt;br /&gt;And everyone can see that I really fell&lt;br /&gt;And I'm going through hell&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about you with somebody else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody wants you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody needs you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody dreams about you every single night&lt;br /&gt;Somebody can't breath without you, it's lonely&lt;br /&gt;Somebody hopes someday you will see&lt;br /&gt;That Somebody's Me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How, How could we go wrong&lt;br /&gt;It was so good and now it's gone&lt;br /&gt;And I pray at night that our paths will soon cross&lt;br /&gt;And what we had isn't lost&lt;br /&gt;Cause you're always right here in my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody wants you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody needs you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody dreams about you every single night&lt;br /&gt;Somebody can't breath without you, it's lonely&lt;br /&gt;Somebody hopes someday you will see&lt;br /&gt;That Somebody's Me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be in my life&lt;br /&gt;Even if I'm not in your life&lt;br /&gt;Because you're in my memory&lt;br /&gt;You, will you remember me&lt;br /&gt;And before you set me free&lt;br /&gt;Oh listen please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody wants you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody needs you&lt;br /&gt;Somebody dreams about you every single night&lt;br /&gt;Somebody can't breath without you, it's lonely&lt;br /&gt;Somebody hopes someday you will see&lt;br /&gt;That Somebody's Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4604334854953834409?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4604334854953834409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4604334854953834409' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4604334854953834409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4604334854953834409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/somebodys-me.html' title='Somebody&apos;s Me'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-81261774424918871</id><published>2008-12-08T13:46:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T13:53:24.390+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Serendipity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STzEU4jVrHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/shM1LXgwXvg/s1600-h/Symetrygreen_by_zedi360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STzEU4jVrHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/shM1LXgwXvg/s400/Symetrygreen_by_zedi360.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277308726428413042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie showed how two people met through a serial of fate, which we refer as destiny, that somehow seemed like coincidents. You know there's nothing as coincident in this life, everything happens for a reason. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've been through those fates which may lead me to my soulmate....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-81261774424918871?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/81261774424918871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=81261774424918871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/81261774424918871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/81261774424918871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/serendipity.html' title='Serendipity'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STzEU4jVrHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/shM1LXgwXvg/s72-c/Symetrygreen_by_zedi360.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4486586685342039617</id><published>2008-12-07T12:41:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T12:48:58.173+07:00</updated><title type='text'>James Blunt</title><content type='html'>Nice songs he has, good voice, awesome lyric like these lines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Will you be my shoulder when I'm grey and older?&lt;br /&gt;Promise me tomorrow starts with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Sometime it's hard to believe you remember me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- GOODBYE MY LOVER ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Did I disappoint you or let you down?&lt;br /&gt;Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw you were blind and I knew I had won.&lt;br /&gt;So I took what's mine by eternal right.&lt;br /&gt;Took your soul out into the night.&lt;br /&gt;It may be over but it won't stop there,&lt;br /&gt;I am here for you if you'd only care.&lt;br /&gt;You touched my heart you touched my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You changed my life and all my goals.&lt;br /&gt;And love is blind and that I knew when,&lt;br /&gt;My heart was blinded by you.&lt;br /&gt;I've kissed your lips and held your head.&lt;br /&gt;Shared your dreams and shared your bed.&lt;br /&gt;I know you well, I know your smell.&lt;br /&gt;I've been addicted to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dreamer and when I wake,&lt;br /&gt;You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.&lt;br /&gt;And as you move on, remember me,&lt;br /&gt;Remember us and all we used to be&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.&lt;br /&gt;I've watched you sleeping for a while.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be the father of your child.&lt;br /&gt;I'd spend a lifetime with you.&lt;br /&gt;I know your fears and you know mine.&lt;br /&gt;We've had our doubts but now we're fine,&lt;br /&gt;And I love you, I swear that's true.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot live without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still hold your hand in mine.&lt;br /&gt;In mine when I'm asleep.&lt;br /&gt;And I will bear my soul in time,&lt;br /&gt;When I'm kneeling at your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4486586685342039617?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4486586685342039617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4486586685342039617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4486586685342039617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4486586685342039617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/12/james-blunt.html' title='James Blunt'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8922229612024892415</id><published>2008-11-30T05:52:00.006+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T09:06:27.612+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Would He Be The One For Me?</title><content type='html'>I want him to be the one for me, but does he want it too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met him on June, he filled my days with laughters and healed my broken heart after Azeem left. He would come to talk to me everyday and I couldnt wait those time when he showed up. I smiled, I felt safe, I felt content in his presence. He is funny, smart, caring, he shared many of my views, and he loves God as much as I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were wonderful until oneday he fell for a woman. He told me that he has been thinking about this woman a lot, not knowing what to do. Despite my broken hearted, I encouraged him to pursue her. Unfortunately for him things didnt go well, she refused him. I was sad when he said 'I kept my phone close to me for three consecutive days, hoping to hear from her'. So much I wanted to tell him, 'Didnt you know that I have been waiting for you everyday?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never got him out of my heart although I knew he had chose another woman. I tried to not to depend on him too much, I started to talk to some other men. It wasn't a great experience for me because I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those were camouflages so that I wouldn't reach out to him when I was lonely, when he wasnt there. So much I wanted to tell him 'I need you!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From everyday, it became twice a week, then once in two weeks. He seems to try to fade away from my sight. I didnt get much chance to talk to him anymore but still everyday I waited for him to come. It hurts knowing that he's drifting away from me. So much I wanted to tell him 'please stay'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8922229612024892415?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8922229612024892415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8922229612024892415' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8922229612024892415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8922229612024892415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/has-he-been-one-for-me.html' title='Would He Be The One For Me?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7419141159782487014</id><published>2008-11-30T05:48:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T05:51:11.406+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STHHG3F68nI/AAAAAAAAANw/qGYOrBDOPa0/s1600-h/In_october_by_raun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STHHG3F68nI/AAAAAAAAANw/qGYOrBDOPa0/s400/In_october_by_raun.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274215559309488754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7419141159782487014?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7419141159782487014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7419141159782487014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7419141159782487014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7419141159782487014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/fragile.html' title='Fragile'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/STHHG3F68nI/AAAAAAAAANw/qGYOrBDOPa0/s72-c/In_october_by_raun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2106907796221435854</id><published>2008-11-28T18:24:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T05:44:12.052+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Who Has Come And Gone</title><content type='html'>It's 6.24pm and I'm still at the office. No plan to hang out with the friends and that makes me recall some of the recent heartbreaking moments :(&lt;br /&gt;My birthday this year at 19 February had brought many unexpected stories in to my life. Stories that once made me feel very happy but then also made me very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flew to Surabaya on March to meet my boyfriend and tell him that I'm falling for another guy. He was devastated to hear that, but he let me choose which decision to take.. to leave or to stay. I chose to leave him. I can't be with him while my heart is with someone else. After the break up he tried to get me back, he said it will take long time to get over me as he really cares about me. He said that he wants to change to suit my preference, he wants to make me happy. This had been going on for 7 months until in November he told me that he has found another girl who made him feel whole again. He described to me how does his feelings toward her like. He wants to take care of her always. He doesn't want to be away from her. When he's with her, the only thing he wants to see is her smile. He cries thinking that he cant give the best for her. Both of them know what each other needs before anyone says anything. And when he asked her 'why do u love me?', she couldn't answer. Neither did him when she asked the same thing. It seems it's not that hard to get over me, he is happy with his girl now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is some guys who have come into my life after the break up. First, I met Azeem on February, not long after my birthday. He is very handsome, nice, polite and intelligent. I felt like I have found my One when he said he loves me. However, when he was born 26 years ago, God didn't destine him to be my One. He left on April and now engaged to a beautiful girl. They look very happy and match well together. So she must be the One for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I met Ahmed on early September. That was during the Ramadhan month when I started talking to him. He said he want to have a long term relationship and started to plan to get married with me. He said he will come on January09 to propose me and tell my parents about his plan. We tried to find the best solution for both parties but we faced dead end. He wouldn't come with his parents and if that is the case then my parents wouldn't allow me to marry with him. We stopped talking since last week. I don't know whether he has found another potential wife or not, but I think he has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, I met Thomas on early October. He is a christian and still very young. It was nice to hear when he said he is learning Islam. One day he said that he loves me. I didn't reply to that because I think he didn't really conscious when he said that. Not that he was drunk or something, but it is because that was too early to tell 'I love you' words to me. He hasn't known me for long, and we are not in the same religion. I made up my mind that things never gonna work out with him. He accepted that and now is working things out with a girl from a Muslim family. At least he found someone who lives much closer to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who have come and gone, I wish you all happiness in your life. And if once you remember me, please pray for my happiness as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2106907796221435854?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2106907796221435854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2106907796221435854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2106907796221435854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2106907796221435854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/those-who-has-come-and-gone.html' title='Those Who Has Come And Gone'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3005424400409421356</id><published>2008-11-20T16:03:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T16:07:39.997+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Is He?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSUomoh1zPI/AAAAAAAAANQ/nTuFHYFELFg/s1600-h/leg+in+prairie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSUomoh1zPI/AAAAAAAAANQ/nTuFHYFELFg/s400/leg+in+prairie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270663583086529778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3005424400409421356?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3005424400409421356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3005424400409421356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3005424400409421356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3005424400409421356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/who-is-he.html' title='Who Is He?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSUomoh1zPI/AAAAAAAAANQ/nTuFHYFELFg/s72-c/leg+in+prairie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3344073823431523477</id><published>2008-11-20T15:54:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T16:03:17.155+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words From Unexperienced Man</title><content type='html'>This is an advice from a priest, who has never been married and will not get married, about "Whom Not To Marry". Nice advice though :)&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Never marry a man who has no friends,” he starts. “This usually means that he will be incapable of the intimacy that marriage demands. I am always amazed at the number of men I have counseled who have no friends. Since, as the Hebrew Scriptures say, ‘Iron shapes iron and friend shapes friend,’ what are his friends like? What do your friends and family members think of him? Sometimes, your friends can’t render an impartial judgment because they are envious that you are beating them in the race to the altar. Envy beclouds judgment".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Does he use money responsibly? Is he stingy? Most marriages that founder do so because of money — she’s thrifty, he’s on his 10th credit card".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Steer clear of someone whose life you can run, who never makes demands counter to yours. It’s good to have a doormat in the home, but not if it’s your husband".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Is he overly attached to his mother and her mythical apron strings? When he wants to make a decision, say, about where you should go on your honeymoon, he doesn’t consult you, he consults his mother. (I’ve known cases where the mother accompanies the couple on their honeymoon!)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Does he have a sense of humor? That covers a multitude of sins. My mother was once asked how she managed to live harmoniously with three men — my father, brother and me. Her answer, delivered with awesome arrogance, was: ‘You simply operate on the assumption that no man matures after the age of 11.’ My father fell about laughing".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A therapist friend insists that ‘more marriages are killed by silence than by violence.’ The strong, silent type can be charming but ultimately destructive". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t marry a problem character thinking you will change him. He’s a heavy drinker, or some other kind of addict, but if he marries a good woman, he’ll settle down. People are the same after marriage as before, only more so".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Take a good, unsentimental look at his family — you’ll learn a lot about him and his attitude towards women. Kay made a monstrous mistake marrying Michael Corleone! Is there a history of divorce in the family? An atmosphere of racism, sexism or prejudice in his home? Are his goals and deepest beliefs worthy and similar to yours? I remember counseling a pious Catholic woman that it might not be prudent to marry a pious Muslim, whose attitude about women was very different. Love trumped prudence; the annulment process was instigated by her six months later".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Imagine a religious fundamentalist married to an agnostic. One would have to pray that the fundamentalist doesn’t open the Bible and hit the page in which Abraham is willing to obey God and slit his son’s throat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Finally: Does he possess those character traits that add up to a good human being — the willingness to forgive, praise, be courteous? Or is he inclined to be a fibber, to fits of rage, to be a control freak, to be envious of you, to be secretive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“After I regale a group with this talk, the despairing cry goes up: ‘But you’ve eliminated everyone!’ Life is unfair.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3344073823431523477?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3344073823431523477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3344073823431523477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3344073823431523477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3344073823431523477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/words-from-unexperienced-man.html' title='Words From Unexperienced Man'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6742849674552735112</id><published>2008-11-20T15:05:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T15:22:51.873+07:00</updated><title type='text'>He Says, "If I Have To Marry Once More, I Will Marry You Again"</title><content type='html'>One night we went to dinner at the food hall of a Plaza in town. We sat at a table located in the middle of the hall. Around us, there were many people eating as well. Then my eyes caught this elegant beautiful woman who crossed in front of our table. I told my husband, "Did you see her? I think she is very adorable". He looked at the way in which that woman went. He said, "ooh that woman? yes she is adorable". I laughed and then commented on his answer, "I think every man will want to be with her". He looked at me in the eyes and replied, "Not every man my sweetheart, if you give me another chance to choose, I will choose you again to get married with me". Awww he is so sweet, he wouldn't want to choose another woman but me to get married with him :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the second quality that this amazing man posses&lt;br /&gt;-- HE IS FAITHFUL --&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6742849674552735112?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6742849674552735112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6742849674552735112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6742849674552735112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6742849674552735112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/he-says-if-i-have-to-marry-once-more-i.html' title='He Says, &quot;If I Have To Marry Once More, I Will Marry You Again&quot;'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-925954916542658160</id><published>2008-11-19T11:54:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T11:55:27.797+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Under One Umbrella In The Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSOcJng0hTI/AAAAAAAAANI/oXAaPT6L5Kg/s1600-h/FALL_DRIZZLE___by_Leonidafremov.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSOcJng0hTI/AAAAAAAAANI/oXAaPT6L5Kg/s400/FALL_DRIZZLE___by_Leonidafremov.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270227677993010482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-925954916542658160?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/925954916542658160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=925954916542658160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/925954916542658160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/925954916542658160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/under-one-umbrella-in-rain.html' title='Under One Umbrella In The Rain'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSOcJng0hTI/AAAAAAAAANI/oXAaPT6L5Kg/s72-c/FALL_DRIZZLE___by_Leonidafremov.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5335815921083187676</id><published>2008-11-19T11:50:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T11:53:24.201+07:00</updated><title type='text'>To My Sunshine, I Love You With All My Heart</title><content type='html'>A nice story of how love keeps burning between the couple through the years and even after death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;Sophie's face faded into the gray winter light of the sitting room. She dozed in the armchair that Joe had bought for her on their fortieth anniversary. The room was warm and quiet. Outside it was snowing lightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A florist's truck turned onto Allen Street. Sophie followed it with her eyes. It was moving slowly. Twice it stopped and started again. Then the driver pulled up in front of Mrs. Mason's house next door and parked.Who would be sending Mrs. Mason flowers? Sophie wondered. Her daughter in Wisconsin? Or her brother? No, her brother was very ill. It was probably her daughter. How nice of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers made Sophie think of Joe and, for a moment, she let the aching memory fill her. Tomorrow was the fifteenth. Eight months since his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flower mans was knocking at Mrs. Mason's front door. He carried a long white and green box and a clipboard. No one seemed to be answering. Of course! It was Friday - Mrs. Mason quilted at the church on Friday afternoons. the delivery man looked around, then started toward Sophie's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes?" she said, peering around a slightly opened door. "Good afternoon, ma'am," the man said loudly. "Would you take a delivery for your neighbor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," Sophie answered, pulling the door wide open. "Where would you like me to put them?" the man asked politely. "In the kitchen, please. On the table." answered Sophie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rich smell of roses engulfed her. She closed her eyes and took slower breaths, imagining yellow roses. Joe had always chosen yellow. "To my sunshine," he would say, presenting the extravagant bouquet. He would laugh delightedly, kiss her on the forehead, then take her hands in his and sing to her "You Are My Sunshine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She dragged a stepstool across the kitchen floor and lifted a white porcelain vase from the top corner cabinet. Using a drinking glass, she filled the vase with water, then tenderly arranged the roses and greens, and carried them into the sitting room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was smiling as she reached the middle of the room. She turned slightly and began to dip and twirl in small slow circles. She stepped lightly, gracefully, around the sitting room, into the kitchen, down the hall, back again. She danced till her knees grew weak, and then she dropped into the armchair and slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a quarter past six, Sophie awoke with a start. Someone was knocking on the back door this time. It was Mrs. Mason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello, Sophie," Mrs. Mason said. "How are you?" Sophie was only half-listening. She had remembered the roses suddenly and was turning hot with shame. The empty flower box was behind her on the kitchen table. What would she say to Mrs. Mason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Mason chattered "I don't know how much longer I can keep paying the bills. If only Alfred, God bless him, had been as careful with money as your Joseph. Joseph! Oh, good heavens! I almost forgot about the roses."&lt;br /&gt;Sophie's cheeks burned. She began to stammer an apology, stepping aside to reveal the empty box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, good," Mrs. Mason interrupted. "You put the roses in water. Then you saw the card. I hope it didn't startle your to see Joseph's handwriting. Joseph had asked me to bring you the roses the first year, so I could explain for him. He didn't want to alarm you. His 'Rose Trust,' I think he called it. He arranged it with the florist last Apirl. Such a good man, your Joseph..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Sophie had stopped listening. Her heart was pounding as she picked up the small white envelope she had missed earlier. It had been lying beside the flower box all this time. With trembling hands, she removed the card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To my sunshine," it said. "I love you with all my heart. Try to be happy when you think of me. Love, Joe."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5335815921083187676?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5335815921083187676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5335815921083187676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5335815921083187676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5335815921083187676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-my-sunshine-i-love-you-with-all-my.html' title='To My Sunshine, I Love You With All My Heart'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-962146349721974568</id><published>2008-11-19T11:15:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T11:36:33.820+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lack Of Communication</title><content type='html'>There was this girl asking to Jeff Mac, a manslator, "Hi Jeff, my relationship is in trouble..". &lt;br /&gt;Jeff answered, "That's it, huh? I think the problem in your relationship is called the lack of communication. You need to open up a lil bit"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed a lot reading that lines :P. It is so funny that she didn't describe anything about the trouble she is facing in the relationship. What did she expect Jeff to answer?. Anyway, Jeff is a book writer and he has a website where he translates men behavior which confuses women. That's why he is called a Manslator. Thanks Jeff for your Manslation!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing about 'Lack Of Communication', sometime I found it difficult to express what I want out of a relationship, what I need from him because of fear that I might get rejected by him. Somehow I feel that he might turn down my suggestions, ignore my needs despite him knowing that they are important to me. How to let him know about it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-962146349721974568?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/962146349721974568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=962146349721974568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/962146349721974568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/962146349721974568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/lack-of-communication.html' title='Lack Of Communication'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3605470286042777623</id><published>2008-11-18T10:53:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T10:56:51.965+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Believe In Soulmate?</title><content type='html'>Soul mates do exist. The reason why all people don't have soul mates is because when they're looking for love, they're following a checklist of what they want in someone else. Instead, people should make checklists of what they themselves lack. A soul mate is not your double—it's rather someone who fills in the blanks &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;A soul mate is someone with whom you never have to prove yourself. There is an instantaneous sense of comfort—you begin to feel comfortable with all of your flaws because this person just accepts you. They still love you for your virtue, but they accept you for your flaws as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soul mate is someone with whom you can be honest. When you are around a soul mate, you feel this instantaneous need to confess—you want to share things that are utterly personal because you're are not afraid that you are going to be thrown out as a result.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is from Rabbi Shmuley. I believe in soulmate. One day I and he will meet :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3605470286042777623?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3605470286042777623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3605470286042777623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3605470286042777623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3605470286042777623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/do-you-believe-in-soulmate.html' title='Do You Believe In Soulmate?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8074415440854537487</id><published>2008-11-18T10:11:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T10:49:09.344+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money Before Love</title><content type='html'>Ok here it goes the deal, it used to be love, love, love that people are concerning about. Now it is money, money, money especially when global economy is in a threat of recession. OH NO!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to admit it that one cant think about love if he/she couldn't even pay the rent and survive the life. Sounds so bitter isn't it? But that's the truth. Imagine that you cant afford to pay your bills, rent, buy nice clothes, eat out. Would you ever have a second to think about love? about finding another person to live with you? Hey, you cant be that selfish to take another person, whom you say you love, to live a miserable life with you and to share your headache on those debts. If you're a good hearted lover, you wouldn't want to take your loved one to suffer with you, would you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I hope you get my point. One thing that make me loves this amazing man is that --HE IS FINANCIALLY SECURED--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is not the most important thing for me, I even never thought about it much. But having him financially secured will give me comfort as we will not need to worry about the expenses of raising kids later, giving presents to our parents and family, helping the unfortunate people, and celebrating our important occasions such as birthday and wedding anniversary :)&lt;br /&gt;It is important that I don't pay the bills or provide for the family. It is his responsibility and he will get his honor on that :)&lt;br /&gt;My amazing husband has a stable job and earns enough to provide our family. I'm proud of him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8074415440854537487?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8074415440854537487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8074415440854537487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8074415440854537487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8074415440854537487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/money-before-love.html' title='Money Before Love'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2416671026261604122</id><published>2008-11-17T14:36:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T14:44:42.857+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Color I See When I'm Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSEfqHPwpgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/kVxxXcS5q30/s1600-h/Still_Life___Sunny_Day_by_AlexEdg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSEfqHPwpgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/kVxxXcS5q30/s400/Still_Life___Sunny_Day_by_AlexEdg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269527847360308738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2416671026261604122?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2416671026261604122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2416671026261604122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2416671026261604122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2416671026261604122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/color-i-see-when-im-happy.html' title='The Color I See When I&apos;m Happy'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SSEfqHPwpgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/kVxxXcS5q30/s72-c/Still_Life___Sunny_Day_by_AlexEdg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2239845996886595895</id><published>2008-11-17T13:38:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T14:36:14.610+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Happily Married :)</title><content type='html'>I have made up my mind that I will stop this recurring winter, sadness, and loneliness. I want to love myself and believe that I can get what I want, what I deserve :)) I know I have to stop intimidating myself by telling me that I'm not that good to get that good. That was not true, I know I'm that good hehehe. Now let's start this self-love with a new vision of how my future life will be. I will keep it in my mind everyday, and soon it will come true :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, Frita Amrita, am happily married with a faithful, fun, passionate, intelligent, generous man who loves me with all his heart and never lets me forget that.&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woow I'm sooo happy. It feels so good to be in the arms of my lover. I love myself when I'm with him. I will have to make sure that I don't forget that I'm married to this amazing man. &lt;br /&gt;You must be wondering what kind of qualities this amazing man has which made me want to be with him forever.... hold your breath! See it on my next post :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2239845996886595895?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2239845996886595895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2239845996886595895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2239845996886595895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2239845996886595895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-happily-married.html' title='I&apos;m Happily Married :)'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-9195520303106787608</id><published>2008-11-10T20:47:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T20:49:29.870+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SRg74F7gHyI/AAAAAAAAAL4/3o0TKccleoQ/s1600-h/winter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SRg74F7gHyI/AAAAAAAAAL4/3o0TKccleoQ/s400/winter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267025599060254498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-9195520303106787608?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/9195520303106787608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=9195520303106787608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9195520303106787608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9195520303106787608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/cold-here.html' title='Cold Here'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SRg74F7gHyI/AAAAAAAAAL4/3o0TKccleoQ/s72-c/winter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8404535521446587178</id><published>2008-11-10T20:21:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T20:37:40.096+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Winter</title><content type='html'>It's night at 8.23pm and here I am thinking of you. Feel like writing my feelings down because I never had the chance to tell you all. It wasn't long ago when summer came to my life with you. Everything was wonderful, you told me about how beautiful the spring that has just passed before summer, how I'll be very happy if I get the chance to see the spring. You gave me hope, you said you'll be there with me to see the next spring. Oh wait, did you say that? or it was just my false interpretations? However, I felt that you'll be there with me until the next spring and I'll be very happy when that day comes.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot that before any spring there'll be winter. I can feel that winter is coming now. I'm waiting for you... it's starting to get cold here. Where are you? in another place which still has spring and summer? It's cold here...&lt;br /&gt;You didnt tell me how should I pass this winter. You didnt tell me that you'll be here with me to get through it. Now I can't blame you for not being here.&lt;br /&gt;I might miss the spring again just like what I did before because I'll be sad for not having you with me. Too sad to see even the most beautiful spring.&lt;br /&gt;I will need a season or two to get over you... &lt;br /&gt;Hope you an everlasting spring and summer wherever you are&lt;br /&gt;Because winter is cold and I don't want you to feel it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8404535521446587178?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8404535521446587178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8404535521446587178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8404535521446587178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8404535521446587178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/another-winter.html' title='Another Winter'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2604166577841942568</id><published>2008-11-03T21:11:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T21:13:46.782+07:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Don't Have The Heart</title><content type='html'>This is a song lyric by James Ingram. Represents what a man, who couldn't accept a girl's love, says. Maybe the girl would like to say "If you don't love me, lie to me"&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your face is beaming&lt;br /&gt;You say is ‘cause you’re dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Of how good it’s going to be&lt;br /&gt;You say you’ve been around&lt;br /&gt;And now you’ve finally found&lt;br /&gt;Everything you wanted and need in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have the heart to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;It’s the last I want to do&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t have the heart to love you&lt;br /&gt;Not the way you want me to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside I’m dying&lt;br /&gt;To see you crying&lt;br /&gt;How can I make you understand&lt;br /&gt;I care about you&lt;br /&gt;So much about you, baby&lt;br /&gt;I’m trying to say this as gently as I can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I don’t have the heart to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;It’s the last I want to do&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t have the heart to love you&lt;br /&gt;Not the way you want me to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re so trusting and open&lt;br /&gt;Hoping that love will start&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t have the heart, oh, no&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have the heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have the heart to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;It’s the last I want to do&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t have the heart to love you&lt;br /&gt;Not the way you want me to&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2604166577841942568?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2604166577841942568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2604166577841942568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2604166577841942568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2604166577841942568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-you-dont-have-heart.html' title='If You Don&apos;t Have The Heart'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2281737683128939599</id><published>2008-10-18T14:18:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T14:21:56.677+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone At All</title><content type='html'>Here is the lyric of Anyone At All by Carole King. I heard this song after I watched "You've got mail", it was such a beautiful movie :)&lt;br /&gt;I wish I can meet someone who knows me that much, who understands me that much... he could have been anyone at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Funny how I feel more myself with you&lt;br /&gt;Than anybody else that I ever knew&lt;br /&gt;I hear it in your voice, see it in your face&lt;br /&gt;You've become the memory I can't erase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could have been anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;A stranger falling out of the blue&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it was you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't in the plan, not that I could see&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a miracle came to me&lt;br /&gt;Safe within your arms I can say what's true&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in the world I would keep from you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could have been anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;An old friend falling out of the blue&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it was you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words can hurt you if you let them&lt;br /&gt;People say them and forget them&lt;br /&gt;Words can promise&lt;br /&gt;Words can lie&lt;br /&gt;But your words make me feel like I can fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could have been anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;A net that catches me when I fall&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it was you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could have been anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;An old friend calling out of the blue&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it was you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;You could have been anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;Anyone at all&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it was you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2281737683128939599?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2281737683128939599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2281737683128939599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2281737683128939599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2281737683128939599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/10/anyone-at-all.html' title='Anyone At All'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1580244954544264162</id><published>2008-10-12T14:56:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T18:08:59.958+07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Frita Amrita Means</title><content type='html'>You are loving, compassionate, and ruled by your feelings.&lt;br /&gt;You are able to be a foundation for other people... but you still know how to have fun.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes your emotions weigh you down, but you generally feel free from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something.&lt;br /&gt;You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense.&lt;br /&gt;You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long.&lt;br /&gt;You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. You're most comfortable when you're far away from home.&lt;br /&gt;You are quite passionate and easily tempted. Your impulses sometimes get you into trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection.&lt;br /&gt;You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive.&lt;br /&gt;You have the classic “Type A” personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are confident, self assured, and capable. You are not easily intimidated.&lt;br /&gt;You master any and all skills easily. You don't have to work hard for what you want.&lt;br /&gt;You make your life out to be exactly how you want it. And you'll knock down anyone who gets in your way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehehe sounds so perfect! I'm not that perfect, don't get manipulated by that :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1580244954544264162?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1580244954544264162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1580244954544264162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1580244954544264162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1580244954544264162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-frita-amrita-means.html' title='What Frita Amrita Means'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5728832742599560627</id><published>2008-09-24T08:46:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T08:49:57.193+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Gown</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SNmcGzyIVzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/i7hdkwKrlik/s1600-h/dsc01303pk4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SNmcGzyIVzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/i7hdkwKrlik/s320/dsc01303pk4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249398481470641970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aww what a sweet moment :) see how he starred at her, very loving.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to wear that kind of wedding gown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5728832742599560627?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5728832742599560627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5728832742599560627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5728832742599560627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5728832742599560627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/wedding-gown.html' title='Wedding Gown'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SNmcGzyIVzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/i7hdkwKrlik/s72-c/dsc01303pk4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7470005063838359164</id><published>2008-09-23T08:10:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T12:11:39.736+07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love</title><content type='html'>"The great aim of every human being is to understand the meaning of total love.  Love is not to be found in someone else, but in ourselves; we simply awaken it.  But in order to do that, we need the other person. The universe only makes sense  when we have someone to share our feelings with." - Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;                &lt;a name="000682"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000682.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001347.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Love at first sight is easy to understand; it's when two people have been looking at each other for a lifetime that it becomes a miracle" - Amy Bloom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;       &lt;a name="001477"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001477.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000645.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000656.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000652"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Him that I love, I wish to be free -- even from me" - Anne Morrow Lindbergh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;       &lt;a name="000670"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000670.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000672"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000672.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000671"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000671.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000637"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000637.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000632"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000632.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"I love thee, I love but thee&lt;br /&gt;With a love that shall not die&lt;br /&gt;Till the sun grows cold,&lt;br /&gt;And the stars grow old..." - Bayard Tailor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love" - Albert Einstein&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#003289" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1301" title="Bertrand Russell" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#003289" subject="Life" description="The good life is inspired by love and guided by knowledge...." creator="Jone" date="2007-12-24T19:05:14-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003289"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003289.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000541"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000541.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="003166"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003166.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002210" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/496" title="Bible" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002210" subject="Love" description="Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is..." creator="Jone" date="2003-04-26T09:02:17-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002210"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002210.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000644"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000644.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000653"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000653.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;a name="001540"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001540.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001208"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001208.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000636"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000636.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="001214"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001214.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_christmas.html#002970" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1046" title="Dale Evans" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_christmas.html#002970" subject="Christmas" description="Every time we love, every time we give, it&amp;apos;s Christmas...." creator="Jone" date="2005-12-15T09:39:03-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002970"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002970.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003377.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000675"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"You call it madness, but I call it love" - Don Byas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_connections.html#003133" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1203" title="E.M. Forster" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_connections.html#003133" subject="Connections" description="Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be..." creator="Jone" date="2006-09-09T09:50:04-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003133"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003133.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001587"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001587.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001781"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001781.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_humanity.html#001932" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/262" title="Edna St. Vincent Millay" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_humanity.html#001932" subject="Humanity" description="I love humanity but I hate people...." creator="Jone" date="2003-02-19T10:43:57-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="001932"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001932.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="003203"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       &lt;a name="000377"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000377.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000677"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Whoso loves, believes the impossible" - Elizabeth Barret Browning&lt;a name="002314"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002314.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001934.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001312.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000648.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia -- to mistake an ordinary young man for a Greek god or an ordinary young woman for a goddess" - H.L. Mencken&lt;a name="000368"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000368.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001532"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001532.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000630"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"No one is perfect until you fall in love with them" - Andy Rooney. Just like when Laila being asked by them "why do you love Majnun so much? He is just an ugly poor man", Laila replied, "You have to see him with my eyes"      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000630.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000664.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"If I know what love is, it is because of you" - Herman Hesse&lt;a name="000661"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000661.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000678"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000678.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003259" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1271" title="Iris Murdock" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003259" subject="Love" description="We can only learn to love by loving...." creator="Jone" date="2007-09-16T09:52:07-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003259"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003259.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000649"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000649.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000679"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000679.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000676"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000676.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000627"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000627.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000586"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000586.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001099"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001099.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000448"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000448.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_nonviolence.html#003468" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1408" title="Jean Goss" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_nonviolence.html#003468" subject="Nonviolence" description="All ideologies end up killing people. If you separate love from nonviolence you turn nonviolence into an ideology, a gimmick...." creator="Jone" date="2008-04-25T07:05:06-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003468"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003468.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001345"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001345.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001112"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001112.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001584"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001584.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000625"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000625.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000654"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000654.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000665.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then" - Katharine Hepburn&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;       &lt;a name="000626"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000626.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001346"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Love is like pi - natural, irrational, and very important" - Lisa Hoffman&lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003475" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1415" title="Mahatma Gandhi" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003475" subject="Love" description="Whether humanity will consciously follow the law of love, I do not know. But that need not disturb me. The..." creator="Jone" date="2008-04-20T07:20:31-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;. I like it because she said love is irrational :)&lt;a name="003475"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003475.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000409"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000409.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000681"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000681.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="002387"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002387.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001335"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001335.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000413"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000413.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000989"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000989.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her" - Adam's Diary&lt;a name="000193"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000193.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_truth.html#002881" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/957" title="Martin Luther King, jr." identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_truth.html#002881" subject="Truth" description="I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily..." creator="Jone" date="2005-10-22T12:18:42-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002881"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002881.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#002460" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/613" title="Mary Oliver" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#002460" subject="Life" description="To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold..." creator="Jone" date="2003-09-11T18:47:53-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002460"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002460.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go" - Mary Oliver. Oh nooo! so sad to let it go when the time comes to let it go hikss&lt;a name="001543"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001543.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001401"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001401.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#002018" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/338" title="Matthew Arnold" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_life.html#002018" subject="Life" description="Is it so small a thing To have enjoy&amp;apos;d the sun, To have lived light in the spring, To have..." creator="Jone" date="2003-03-23T07:49:14-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002018"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002018.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_challenge.html#002606" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/755" title="Mitsugi Saotome" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_challenge.html#002606" subject="Challenge" description="If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk to, no one with which to share..." creator="Jone" date="2004-05-01T18:23:54-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002606"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002606.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001548"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001548.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000667"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000667.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003239" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1251" title="Molleen Matsumura" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003239" subject="Love" description="Love is like a campfire: It may be sparked quickly, and at first the kindling throws out a lot of..." creator="Jone" date="2007-05-18T18:11:50-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003239"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003239.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003238" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1250" title="Molleen Matsumura" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003238" subject="Love" description="Love is more than just a feeling: it&amp;apos;s a process requiring continual attention. Loving well takes laughter, loyalty, and wanting..." creator="Jone" date="2007-05-08T17:42:05-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003238"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003238.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;Love is more than just a feeling: it's a process requiring continual attention. Loving well takes laughter, loyalty, and wanting more to be able to say, "I understand" than to hear, "You're right." - Molleen Matsumura&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Do you love me because I'm beautiful, or am I am beautiful because you love me?" - Oscar Hammerstein II&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;                &lt;a name="000722"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000722.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000651"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000651.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000683.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002557.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;                   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001361.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_solitude.html#002179" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/485" title="Pearl S. Buck" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_solitude.html#002179" subject="Solitude" description="The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does..." creator="Jone" date="2003-04-21T06:42:49-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;         &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002179.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000694.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000642.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001220.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000668.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_belief.html#003013" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1089" title="Robert Fulghum" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_belief.html#003013" subject="Belief" description="I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful..." creator="Jone" date="2006-01-01T10:37:53-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      "I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge -- myth is more potent than history -- dreams are more powerful than facts -- hope always triumphs over experience -- laughter is the cure for grief -- love is stronger than death" - Robert Fulghum. What do you think about this sentence?   &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001213.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life..." - Rose Walker&lt;span class="extended"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000624.html#000624"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"I love you&lt;br /&gt;Not only for what you are&lt;br /&gt;But for what I am&lt;br /&gt;When I am with you" - Roy Croft&lt;a name="000639"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000639.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absent-minded.&lt;br /&gt;Someone sober will worry about events going badly.&lt;br /&gt;Let the lover be" - Rumi   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000638.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003478" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1418" title="Rumi" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003478" subject="Love" description="Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love...." creator="Jone" date="2008-04-16T09:22:26-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;         &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003478.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000669.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002360" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/575" title="Samuel Butler" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002360" subject="Love" description="Perhaps; but is it not Tennyson who has said: &amp;quot;&amp;apos;Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have..." creator="Jone" date="2003-05-20T06:47:28-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;         &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002360.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003294" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1306" title="Sharon Welch" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003294" subject="Love" description="Resistance to oppression is often based on a love that leads us to value ourselves, and leads us to hope..." creator="Jone" date="2007-09-21T19:38:54-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;                &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000643.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000179.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000633.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Where there is love, there is pain" - Spanish Proverb&lt;a name="000680"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000680.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001369"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001369.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001550"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001550.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000641"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000641.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000674"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000674.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000171"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000171.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000655"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000655.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="001373"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001373.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_dutyresponsibility.html#002112" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/418" title="Victor Frankl" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_dutyresponsibility.html#002112" subject="Duty/Responsibility" description="A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or..." creator="Jone" date="2003-04-09T08:28:52-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002112"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002112.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="002675"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002675.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000646"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000646.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002534" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/683" title="Washington Irving" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#002534" subject="Love" description="Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart...." creator="Jone" date="2003-12-31T20:12:31-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002534"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002534.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003127" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1197" title="Willa Cather" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003127" subject="Love" description="Where there is great love, there are always miracles...." creator="Jone" date="2006-08-22T09:38:26-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003127"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003127.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Where there is great love, there are always miracles" - Willa Cather   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/001794.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003652.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;         &lt;p&gt;"Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you" - William Arthur Ward&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired" - Robert Frost&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love" - William Shakespeare&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I should tell you how I really feel, but I'm afraid of what you might say..."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="posted"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/blockquote&gt;       &lt;a name="002421"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002421.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a name="000463"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000631"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000631.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_truth.html#002976" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1052" title="William Sloane Coffin" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_truth.html#002976" subject="Truth" description="The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love...." creator="Jone" date="2006-01-03T07:53:47-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="002976"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/002976.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_arrogance.html#003339" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1351" title="William Sloane Coffin, Jr." identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_arrogance.html#003339" subject="Arrogance" description="Love measures our stature: the more we love, the bigger we are. There is no smaller package in all the..." creator="Jone" date="2008-01-10T21:36:57-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003339"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003339.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000621"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000621.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- &lt;rdf:rdf rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" trackback="http://madskills.com/public/xml/rss/module/trackback/" dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"&gt; &lt;rdf:description about="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003229" ping="http://wisdom.revjone.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/1241" title="Zora Neale Hurston" identifier="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/cat_love.html#003229" subject="Love" description="Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place...." creator="Jone" date="2007-04-03T10:39:43-05:00"&gt; &lt;/rdf:RDF&gt; --&gt;      &lt;a name="003229"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/003229.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;a name="000660"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;span class="title"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000660.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7470005063838359164?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7470005063838359164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7470005063838359164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7470005063838359164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7470005063838359164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-call-it-madness-but-i-call-it-love.html' title='You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7195988754684654555</id><published>2008-09-15T18:56:00.011+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T07:57:52.843+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wedding Venue</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 181px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5NiGduQBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/-o1L_0-95xA/s200/header_events.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246215864179376146" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5NmWEypJI/AAAAAAAAAJI/UJht06UOasA/s200/header_location.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246215937089250450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5NyZvm4fI/AAAAAAAAAJY/3BGiTxpI-3k/s1600-h/header_accomodations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 179px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5NyZvm4fI/AAAAAAAAAJY/3BGiTxpI-3k/s200/header_accomodations.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246216144232571378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5Ns_YyugI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/kAdPZgvPQI0/s200/header_poolgarden.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246216051258210818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is Atas Ombak Villa in Bali. I like the place because it is located next to the sea... so I will get married there&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7195988754684654555?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7195988754684654555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7195988754684654555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7195988754684654555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7195988754684654555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-wedding-venue_15.html' title='My Wedding Venue'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5NiGduQBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/-o1L_0-95xA/s72-c/header_events.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8739897592468115014</id><published>2008-09-15T18:42:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T18:44:53.878+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wedding Bouquet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5KmIdsxvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4dDDjehsjAE/s1600-h/hand+bouquet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5KmIdsxvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4dDDjehsjAE/s400/hand+bouquet1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246212634900743922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8739897592468115014?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8739897592468115014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8739897592468115014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8739897592468115014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8739897592468115014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-wedding-bouquet.html' title='My Wedding Bouquet'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM5KmIdsxvI/AAAAAAAAAIg/4dDDjehsjAE/s72-c/hand+bouquet1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-9029678712773705861</id><published>2008-09-15T12:12:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T08:03:13.741+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wedding Ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM3u1loHI_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/D3PuhH8r5TI/s1600-h/my+wedding+ring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM3u1loHI_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/D3PuhH8r5TI/s400/my+wedding+ring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246111745357325298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;An Emerald cut - Aquamarine stone in white gold. Waaa why it is so expensive? You go boy! work a little harder and bring me the ring :P&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-9029678712773705861?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/9029678712773705861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=9029678712773705861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9029678712773705861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/9029678712773705861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-wedding-ring.html' title='My Wedding Ring'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SM3u1loHI_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/D3PuhH8r5TI/s72-c/my+wedding+ring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5345450423164288197</id><published>2008-09-11T17:01:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T17:03:39.715+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Personality Defect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMjswf7WTKI/AAAAAAAAAHs/aO4kllltNFA/s1600-h/17661052317755867042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMjswf7WTKI/AAAAAAAAAHs/aO4kllltNFA/s400/17661052317755867042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244702084021243042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an Emo Kid hahahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5345450423164288197?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5345450423164288197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5345450423164288197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5345450423164288197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5345450423164288197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-personality-defect.html' title='My Personality Defect'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMjswf7WTKI/AAAAAAAAAHs/aO4kllltNFA/s72-c/17661052317755867042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2422283789098497365</id><published>2008-09-08T19:09:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T19:14:50.829+07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Woman At The Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMUWRmLswFI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_O7XyqTyZM0/s1600-h/a+woman+at+the+sea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMUWRmLswFI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_O7XyqTyZM0/s400/a+woman+at+the+sea.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243621832706015314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2422283789098497365?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2422283789098497365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2422283789098497365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2422283789098497365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2422283789098497365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/woman-at-sea.html' title='A Woman At The Sea'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SMUWRmLswFI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_O7XyqTyZM0/s72-c/a+woman+at+the+sea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6606335966098486876</id><published>2008-09-05T12:56:00.013+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T08:49:52.191+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Since I Chat Online</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="tcolor04"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Met My Mr. Right Through Chatting in IRC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="tcolor04"&gt;by jenny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;Here it goes.. a long story, yet I wish some people will be appreciated it. Have you guys ever wonder that you gonna find yourself a mate through internet. I have, i found my mate, a guy who is so sweet, loving, with sense of humour.. he has all the good character of a gentleman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a cybercafe on that day, and at there I started to chat in MiRC (as it was famous among youngster to make friends). He used the nick 'Mrsingle'. I clicked on him and we chat for a long time. He asked for my phone number and without hesitation, I gave my home phone number, wishing he would call me and talk with me at the phone, later at night. He also asked if I would not mind to meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart, I can felt my heartbeat beating fast and thinking was it okay to meet him? Would he do anything bad on me? I looked over all our chatting conversation..i felt i can trust him ..why not meet him? Sure he won't do anything bad on me. I told him how I looked like and what dress I wore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;He came to me at last to pick me up and I still remember my first impression on him. He looked dark, cute face with dimple on his cheeks. At that time, he wore a jersey in blue color and black pant, not a good way of dressing to date a gal, I said to myself. But never mind... at least he showed up to meet me in person. So I paid my usage of computer, and went with him. He brought me to his workplace and saying sorry that he still have some works to be done and asked if I wouldn't mind to sit and wait for him for few minutes. He treated me some ice-cream and a soda. I watched him working and I found it was so fascinating and nice. He even asked why I keep looking at him and smiled sheepishly at him. I ignored his question and keep flirting him with my eyes and smiles. We talk a lot about our works and life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to his car together. I asked where we are planning to go now and he asked do I mind if he gonna bring me home, and I said okay .On the way, he make the first move, he held my hand and hold it tightly, without letting go. He drove one-handed all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, I kept looking at him and my heart seems like beating thousands times in a minute. I kept asking myself is he the one that I have keep on waiting. He just kept quiet and drove, we had enjoyed the silence in the car, holdings hands tightly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;When the car going to reach my house, I asked if he would like to bring me around again or maybe to a place before sending me home. I don't want to go home at this time, I told him and he said okay. We went to a dark place, a location where a couple would spend the whole evening there. All these sensations and feelings came out from my heart. I had never felt like this before to a guy, maybe it is what it called love at first sight through cyber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dated, keeping contacts and never miss a single day, calling each other through phones. I felt every minutes without him, I would miss him like I haven't seen him for a long time. Now we have dated each other for 2 and a half year and we love each other so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;I have got myself a Mr. Right through internet-chatting. Every single day and night I am with him. I have never felt like this before. We are planning to get marry at this end of the year, and God bless us that we can be together as husband and wife. I loved him so much and with my whole heart, without him, I would felt like I am losing a soul mate in my life. He is everything that I have ever had, my best friend, my partner, my soul mate and of course my Mr. Right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;----------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;awww... what can I say?&lt;/span&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/644237751201104168-6606335966098486876?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6606335966098486876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6606335966098486876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6606335966098486876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6606335966098486876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/since-i-chat-online.html' title='Since I Chat Online'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2653464150246730873</id><published>2008-09-03T08:12:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T08:43:11.127+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Me Fall In Love With You Again</title><content type='html'>This morning I texted him, asking how he was doing. Then I told him last night I dreamed  he texted me in which he didn't call me 'hani' anymore, but call me 'Frita'. He said that it will eventually come true, he just needs some time to stop calling me 'hani'. He said that it was a long 5 months of awaiting. His heart ached each day in its constant longing for me, while I talked about the other guy to him... so mean in his opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am mean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sent me a poem which he wrote by himself. There he expressed how the past moments and journey we shared together was a treasure for him. However, when we reached the end of the journey, I betrayed him by leaving him for another guy without even considering his feelings. He implicitly conveyed that I was not sincere. He said goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am not sincere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that it was the last time he wrote something for me with heart, it will never be happened again. He will forget everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I don't deserve anything from his heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I know, I don't like the way he accused me for being a betrayer, mean, and insincere. Once he told me that he wants to find a way back to my heart... this surely is not the way. I will never be able to fall in love for someone who keeps so much anger, hatred, and  pains toward me. How will I be able to fall in to his arm while I'm afraid that there's a sharp blade behind it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the one I know very well, I sometime considered to take the chance of letting him make me fall in love with him again. But maybe it doesn't matter anymore, he might never try to make me fall in love with him again... he said goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe goodbye is the best for us&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2653464150246730873?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2653464150246730873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2653464150246730873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2653464150246730873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2653464150246730873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/09/make-me-fall-in-love-with-you-again.html' title='Make Me Fall In Love With You Again'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7347584937157887799</id><published>2008-08-30T12:51:00.009+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T08:00:43.776+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ladies.. Check This Out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjihifVuAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ujDn2NOj0ms/s1600-h/runtuh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjihifVuAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ujDn2NOj0ms/s400/runtuh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240187232267384834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I found a link on google, it is an e-book in which many heart-warming stories from women are written. Oh hoo they are so sweet... reading it makes me feel like I was taken to the place where the stories were lived. It felt like visiting an old place, seeing those friendly faces, smelling the air, feeling the warm weather, and hearing the chanting of the crowd. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"A Cup of Comfort for Women in Love" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;http://books.google.com/books?hl=en&amp;amp;id=OChzblyEFCcC&amp;amp;dq=inspiring+true+love+story&amp;amp;printsec=frontcover&amp;amp;source=web&amp;amp;ots=c85pf44Uta&amp;amp;sig=T_uHZALYk1b5eOHltESyF-e0e8o&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=book_result&amp;amp;resnum=8&amp;amp;ct=result&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the way, have you been in the beach on the early evening, like at 4-5pm? choose a secluded one, or atleast one which is not really crowded. Watch the waves touch the shore, feel the wind breeze on your face, and hear the sound of the sea through your soul... you're alone, no one else with you, but you enjoy the moment and feel at ease as the sea embraces you. I like to call that kind of feeling as UU&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the way, those are poppy flowers in the picture. I don't know where was it, but the building looks like a Greek's creation. Old shattered things, dreams, or memories can be beautiful in some ways :)&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/644237751201104168-7347584937157887799?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7347584937157887799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7347584937157887799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7347584937157887799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7347584937157887799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/ladies-check-this-out.html' title='Ladies.. Check This Out!'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjihifVuAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/ujDn2NOj0ms/s72-c/runtuh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4936956050506561876</id><published>2008-08-30T11:58:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T12:01:16.586+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjTwJkVzYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/n4Qh38RJ5CI/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjTwJkVzYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/n4Qh38RJ5CI/s400/untitled.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240170990601096578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I like to play this game so much on my spare time. A friend couldn't even cross 20 points hehe. You should try it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4936956050506561876?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4936956050506561876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4936956050506561876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4936956050506561876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4936956050506561876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/magic-lines.html' title='Magic Lines'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SLjTwJkVzYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/n4Qh38RJ5CI/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-2957783271651605839</id><published>2008-08-28T19:29:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T19:39:36.045+07:00</updated><title type='text'>True In My Opinion</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There are some ways of thinking that I found very appealing, here are some which I remember&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Life is unfair &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;....but there's always something that we can be thankful for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Looks are temporary, characters last a lifetime. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;....yet it is hard to fall for the character at the first place. Does it mean I don't have a good character since I prioritize looks at the first place? But there was strong character that captured me badly, despite the less attractive look which covered it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. We can't choose our destiny&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;....every path we crossed and will cross is given by the God. Only God can choose, while we are so powerless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. For a couple: she is a lover when he's 30. she is a friend when he's 50. she is a nurse when he's 70&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;....maybe that's the reason why men look for much younger women to be their partner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-2957783271651605839?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/2957783271651605839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=2957783271651605839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2957783271651605839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/2957783271651605839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/true-in-my-opinion.html' title='True In My Opinion'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-894300237640198520</id><published>2008-08-18T07:12:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T10:33:48.945+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Azeem Is Engaged!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Frita: assalamualaikum Azeem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Azeem: wailakum asalam frita. how are you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frita: i'm good here thx. u?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Azeem: Im good! so busy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frita: ooh working on homeworks?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Azeem: yes homework. lots of writing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frita: :) good luck. but u like it so far ?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Azeem: yeah I like LA. ive been keeping busy. i should probably tell you this. so you know, but I recently got engaged actually&lt;/p&gt;Frita: ooh really? with who?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: especially with our history. I should tell her that. yeaah a girl from out here. we met through a friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: wow that's fast. i'm surprised&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yeaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: but also happy for you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: it all happened really quickly. thank you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: so after engagement.. there should be a marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yes, not sure when though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: hehe. tell me more about her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: well shes three years younger than me. a student of architecture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: she's pakistani too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: that's great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: urdu speaking pakistani though. so a little different culturally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: have u brought her to meet ur parents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yes. her family came right before I came here and they met my family and everyone got along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: hmm sound so sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: shes really cool though. we get along really well. shes into music and art and things too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: aww just like a fairy tale things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: she plays the drums in a band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: u and her suddenly meet and fall in love aww&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yeah its so quick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: hehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: but we're so similar and get along well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: good good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: so I've been happy with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: i'm sure u are and i'm really happy to know this news&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: thank you. I guess its been a while for us. so time makes that easier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: hope everything goes well between u two :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: thank you. keep me in your dua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: yeah i've handled things pretty well, so i'm fine :) sure i will pray for u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: thank you. I will keep you in my duas too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: thank you too and dont forget to tell me if u have the wedding date&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: ook prob next summer, maybe beginning of the summer we're thinking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: hmm next may?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: possibly. we dont have a date yet, we'll figure that out soon. we're having an engagement party on the 30th of this month. my family is all flying out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: that'll be a big occasion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yeah that will be exciting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: wish u all the best :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: i wish all the best for you too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frita: thanks. wow i'm still surprised, things went so fast in ur part of the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azeem: yeah well other things too... I decided to drop out of library school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frita: i will have to catch up soon hehehe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;wow my heart is pounding so fast hahaha, oh my God it is really a news! He must be a very good guy, this way Allah has led him to his soulmate in an unpredictable ways... but fast, easy, and wonderful!!! I wish you all the best Azeem :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-894300237640198520?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/894300237640198520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=894300237640198520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/894300237640198520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/894300237640198520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/azeem-is-engaged.html' title='Azeem Is Engaged!!!!!'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8304376643292014306</id><published>2008-08-18T05:36:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:49:22.006+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hehehe I Draw It</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKio-hCAQpI/AAAAAAAAAGs/NB6-rJTDcqY/s1600-h/ocean.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKio-hCAQpI/AAAAAAAAAGs/NB6-rJTDcqY/s400/ocean.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235620358790333074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bored reading the test results of me? hehehe ok don't be upset, I drew something for you... see how cute it is! I'll be the smallest fish, and you be the biggest one. So when you chase after me, I can escape by hiding behind the seaweeds or the corals hehe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8304376643292014306?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8304376643292014306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8304376643292014306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8304376643292014306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8304376643292014306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/hehehe-i-draw-it.html' title='Hehehe I Draw It'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKio-hCAQpI/AAAAAAAAAGs/NB6-rJTDcqY/s72-c/ocean.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8028668809857138425</id><published>2008-08-18T05:31:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:34:14.786+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knowing My Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;A very straight forward result. This suits me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;----------&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Heart on Sleeve&lt;/strong&gt; - Dependent, Idealistic, Intimate, Explicit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the most brazen of hearts, the Heart on Sleeve. You are highly emotional and idealistic, and crave love, but are candid and forthcoming. You are not one to hide your emotions, and couldn't even if you tried. You know what you want from love, and believe in the ideals of love over the sensuality of it. You are all about love in its purest form and aren't afraid to broadcast it or to express your desire for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matches for the Heart on Sleeve:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Heart of Gold&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Heart of Gold shares your loving qualities, but also values harmony and independence. The Heart of Gold will always be there for you, and you will respect their intimate nature and ability not to be taken aback by your candid and plain nature. You will find they share the same ideals of love that you do, as well as a value of your relationship as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Lively Heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lively Heart shares the same ideals of love as you, but is more passionate in expressing it. The Lively Heart is just as forthcoming as you, but independtent enough to not be bothered by it, lessening the clash of personalities. You will find the Lively Heart to be energetic and fun, as well as deep and complex.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8028668809857138425?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8028668809857138425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8028668809857138425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8028668809857138425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8028668809857138425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/knowing-my-heart.html' title='Knowing My Heart'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8086993602202645722</id><published>2008-08-18T05:23:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:27:12.340+07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Did My Dreams Reveal About Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I took this test after I lost Azeem.. and it seems to know that I was hurt badly&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Losing your Grip &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams reveals that you may be feeeling powerless, anxious and out of control these days. Maybe you recently lost your job, or perhaps you're struggling with the loss of a loved one. Whatever the case, you may be feeling like a ping pong ball, hit back and forth between problems that you can't influence or control.&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams may be trying to tell you that it's time to make that big decision you've been putting off or that you need to accept that you're going through a tough time. So try to relax and remember that this confusing life phase will eventually pass.&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/644237751201104168-8086993602202645722?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8086993602202645722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8086993602202645722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8086993602202645722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8086993602202645722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-did-my-dreams-reveal-about-me.html' title='What Did My Dreams Reveal About Me?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1763132335534423188</id><published>2008-08-18T05:12:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:17:59.646+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dating Personality: The Priss - Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Sounds so true to me hehehe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;----------&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mature. Responsible. Aristocratic. Excuse me. The Priss.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prisses are the smartest of all female types. You're highly perceptive, and confident in your judgements. You'd take brutal honesty over superficiality any time--your friends always know where they stand with you. You're completely unfake. Don't tell me that's not a word. You're also excellent at redirecting internal negative energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These facts indicate people are often intimidated by you. They also fall for you, hard. You have a distant, composed allure that many find irresistible. If only more of them lived up to your standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were probably the last among your friends to have sex. And the first to pretend that you're pregnant. LOL. Though you're inclined to use sex as weapon, at least it's not as one of mass destruction. You're choosier than most about your partners. A supportive relationship is what you're really after. Whether you know it or not, you need something steady &amp;amp; long-term. And soothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1763132335534423188?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1763132335534423188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1763132335534423188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1763132335534423188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1763132335534423188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-dating-personality-priss-deliberate.html' title='My Dating Personality: The Priss - Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1145795670800803122</id><published>2008-08-18T05:09:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:29:43.598+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Best Match: The Mixed Messenger - Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Here's the dating personality of the guy which should match me best. Hmm sounds true for my ex boyfriend, he is mixed, he is a good influentator&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;/p&gt;Just...take...the...fucking...flower...darling. The Mixed Messenger apologizes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're looking for love, but you'll always maintain your independence. You're prepared for a real commitment, but it's also likely that you're ambitious, which creates a certain romantic tension and ambivalence within you. So although you can be very affectionate to someone, you are also capable of pulling some dubious shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a relationship, you're usually the emotional leader. With your friends, you're a little bit more part of the pack. You're well-liked but you're not the uninhibited type, so the spotlight's often on someone else. In both social and romantic situations, however, you almost always get what you want. Influencing people is something you do very well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1145795670800803122?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1145795670800803122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1145795670800803122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1145795670800803122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1145795670800803122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-best-match-mixed-messenger.html' title='My Best Match: The Mixed Messenger - Deliberate Brutal Love Dreamer'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-5970272643412582561</id><published>2008-08-18T04:59:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:03:05.366+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enneagram Test - Type 6, The Questioner</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"I am affectionate and skeptical"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questioners are responsible, trustworthy, and value loyalty to family, friends, groups, and causes. Their personalities range broadly from reserved and timid to outspoken and confrontative. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to Get Along with Me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be direct and clear. &lt;br /&gt;Listen to me carefully. &lt;br /&gt;Don't judge me for my anxiety. &lt;br /&gt;Work things through with me. &lt;br /&gt;Reassure me that everything is OK between us. &lt;br /&gt;Laugh and make jokes with me. &lt;br /&gt;Gently push me toward new experiences. &lt;br /&gt;Try not to overreact to my overreacting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I Like About Being a SIX&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;being committed and faithful to family and friends &lt;br /&gt;being responsible and hardworking &lt;br /&gt;being compassionate toward others &lt;br /&gt;having intellect and wit &lt;br /&gt;being a nonconformist &lt;br /&gt;confronting danger bravely &lt;br /&gt;being direct and assertive &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's Hard About Being a SIX&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;the constant push and pull involved in trying to make up my mind &lt;br /&gt;procrastinating because of fear of failure; having little confidence in myself &lt;br /&gt;fearing being abandoned or taken advantage of &lt;br /&gt;exhausting myself by worrying and scanning for danger &lt;br /&gt;wishing I had a rule book at work so I could do everything right &lt;br /&gt;being too critical of myself when I haven't lived up to my expectations &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIXes as Children Often&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;are friendly, likable, and dependable, and/or sarcastic, bossy, and stubborn &lt;br /&gt;are anxious and hypervigilant; anticipate danger &lt;br /&gt;form a team of "us against them" with a best friend or parent &lt;br /&gt;look to groups or authorities to protect them and/or question authority and rebel &lt;br /&gt;are neglected or abused, come from unpredictable or alcoholic families, and/or take on the fearfulness of an overly anxious parent &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIXes as Parents &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are often loving, nurturing, and have a strong sense of duty &lt;br /&gt;are sometimes reluctant to give their children independence &lt;br /&gt;worry more than most that their children will get hurt &lt;br /&gt;sometimes have trouble saying no and setting boundaries&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-5970272643412582561?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/5970272643412582561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=5970272643412582561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5970272643412582561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/5970272643412582561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/enneagram-test-type-6-loyalist.html' title='Enneagram Test - Type 6, The Questioner'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1303405909294380631</id><published>2008-08-17T20:02:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:11:40.739+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience Is The Key</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is a story I copied from a website.. I felt sad for the father :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted. As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car.&lt;/p&gt;Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat Disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Quran, with the young man's name embossed in gold. Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all your money you give me a Quran?", and stormed out of the house, leaving the Quran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realized his father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a Telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Quran, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened the Quran and began to turn the pages. His father had carefully underlined a verse, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;As he read those words, a car key dropped from the back of the Quran. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words...PAID IN FULL.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The beauty of life is not dependent on how happy you are, but on how happy others can be because of you"&lt;/em&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/644237751201104168-1303405909294380631?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1303405909294380631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1303405909294380631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1303405909294380631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1303405909294380631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/patience-is-key.html' title='Patience Is The Key'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-4966451464888292013</id><published>2008-08-12T07:18:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T07:21:48.230+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picassa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKDW6F_279I/AAAAAAAAAGk/LbutqRRoL_c/s1600-h/Houses-at-Auvers.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKDW6F_279I/AAAAAAAAAGk/LbutqRRoL_c/s400/Houses-at-Auvers.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233419060535291858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good morning, I like this Picassa painting. Today I'm going to be out of office on a seminar with Warren Buffet genius, Robert P Miles. He should have a good insights on investment and equity trading. By the way... I'm feeling a little bit lonely nowadays :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-4966451464888292013?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/4966451464888292013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=4966451464888292013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4966451464888292013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/4966451464888292013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/picassa.html' title='Picassa'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SKDW6F_279I/AAAAAAAAAGk/LbutqRRoL_c/s72-c/Houses-at-Auvers.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3207921968148736044</id><published>2008-08-04T17:17:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T17:20:27.138+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Gabon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SJbXmjKNp7I/AAAAAAAAAGc/H13GXqQDN58/s1600-h/baby-gorilla-gabon-651797-sw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 402px; height: 289px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SJbXmjKNp7I/AAAAAAAAAGc/H13GXqQDN58/s400/baby-gorilla-gabon-651797-sw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230605074510489522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3207921968148736044?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3207921968148736044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3207921968148736044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3207921968148736044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3207921968148736044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/baby-gabon.html' title='Baby Gabon'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SJbXmjKNp7I/AAAAAAAAAGc/H13GXqQDN58/s72-c/baby-gorilla-gabon-651797-sw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8032904932471790714</id><published>2008-08-04T17:09:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T07:57:31.339+07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Can I Tell Her?</title><content type='html'>This song by Lobo. Don't you think that this lyrics mean a lot?&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;She knows when I'm lonesome, she cries when I'm sad.&lt;br /&gt;She's up in the good times, she's down in the bad.&lt;br /&gt;And whenever I'm discouraged, she knows just what to do.&lt;br /&gt;But girl, she doesn't know about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can tell her my troubles, she makes them all seem right.&lt;br /&gt;I can make up excuses, not to hold her at night.&lt;br /&gt;We can talk of tomorrow, I'll tell her things I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;But girl, how can I tell her about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I tell her about you?&lt;br /&gt;Girl, please tell me what to do.&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems right, whenever I'm with you.&lt;br /&gt;So girl, won't you tell me, how to tell her about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I tell her I don't miss her, whenever I'm away?&lt;br /&gt;How can I say it's you I think of, every single night and day?&lt;br /&gt;And when is it easy, telling someone we're through?&lt;br /&gt;Ah girl, help me tell her about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I tell her about you?&lt;br /&gt;Girl, please tell me what to do.&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems right, whenever I'm with you.&lt;br /&gt;So girl, won't you tell me, how to tell her about you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8032904932471790714?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8032904932471790714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8032904932471790714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8032904932471790714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8032904932471790714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-can-i-tell-her.html' title='How Can I Tell Her?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7908708791518608511</id><published>2008-08-04T05:01:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T17:07:59.213+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Strong My Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I really couldn't sleep well last night because I woke up many times in the middle of the night and the pain got more real everytime also. I don't know who to tell this to. Despite knowing how much they love me, I obviously can't tell my parents because they will be sad thinking that their daughter has gone mad. Despite being her only sibling, I obviously can't tell my sister because she has warned me that online relationship will never work. Despite being the girl who he loves  so much, I obviously can't tell my ex boyfriend because it will cause him pain knowing that I fell for another guy and got hurt by that. I only have one place to relieve all my burden... I have my God only. I know it is Him who want this to happen to me, but I don't blame Him for the pains I got... He must has planned something beyond my logic. I just need to trust Him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I tried to be his friend, to be his sister. I thought it won't be this painful hearing him talking about the other girl, I thought I can handle it. I, strangely, do not know how weak my heart is.. I have put it on the sleeves, exposing it to the world, and hoped that it wont get hurt. I totally wrong, it pains so much that I keep saying to myself to be strong. It pains so much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I told him to give her a chance to know him, I told him to pursue her if he has a feeling for her. I told him not too worry about the future and just let it flow with her. I even encouraged him to ask God to decide for him. It wasn't a fake advice, I want to see him happy. I might don't know how hard times went by on his side of the world, but I'm sure he has waited for so long and he deserves to be happy... I'm just feeling sad that I won't be there to be happy with him because it pains so much. I'm not your wonder woman who can take all the pains of caring for you. My heart can break and tear apart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Be strong my heart...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because it pains so much...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7908708791518608511?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7908708791518608511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7908708791518608511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7908708791518608511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7908708791518608511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/be-strong-my-heart-here-we-go-again.html' title='Be Strong My Heart'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6222789936354980589</id><published>2008-08-02T12:15:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T12:45:33.140+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Funny Lion</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Saadat...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This chapter is for you, as well as the previous ones in which I mentioned the word "you", it refered to you. It was a very nice time I had with you for the last 1.5 months. If you remember, we first chatted on 17 June and talked much almost everyday since then. Ofcourse it was not everyday, because you wouldn't come online when you're not at work. That days off made me miss you a lot. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I thank you for cheering up my days after the hard times I had with Azeem. You are funny and amiable that I love being around you... I mean I love talking with you and sharing stories. You have many interesting, stupid, and silly stories which you openly shared with me and this is just not a trait that I can find easily from others. Not many people are able to express their thoughts and feelings and share them with someone else without being afraid that they will be judged for their stupid mistakes or silly acts. You just did it well, and I think that is what I like about you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ooh I did it again, I told you that I don't like you calling me "friend" and I feel like angry on you when you tell me about your dates. I wish I had a heart of stone that I wouldn't feel anything for you hehehe I'm sorry for making you scared of my abundant emotios. If you remember... I asked you back then, "do you think we will still talking to each other on August?" and you replied, "ofcourse, why not?". Now, the very first day of August... I'm waiting to see you online and talk to you, but you didn't show up. I sent you email asking how's thing goin there, but you didn't reply. Saadat, you guessed it wrong... we don't talk anymore on August.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I can have one thing regarding you, all I want is that I can be your best friend... a friend that you will not leave when she says "I like you and your companion", a friend to whom you can share any stories with, without being afraid that she will angry on you because you date another girls :) How's that possible?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Afterall, this farewell from you does not hurt less. I'm going to feel sad for the couple of months, especially when I go online and will not find you anymore there. But, once again thanks for being there on my hard times... my funny lion, live happily in your jungle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6222789936354980589?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6222789936354980589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6222789936354980589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6222789936354980589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6222789936354980589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-funny-lion.html' title='My Funny Lion'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7483807168955998541</id><published>2008-08-02T06:46:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T05:56:21.365+07:00</updated><title type='text'>August?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Good morning my dear friend...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I slept enough last night and thank God that the mosquitos didn't disturb me. On this Saturday morning, early of August... what can I share with you? By the way, last night I went golfing with my friends. It was not really golfing because what we did was driving, learning how to swing the stick and how to hit the ball as far as we can. It was fun though, I will need a glove and more practice :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about the movie I watched two days ago. I'm sorry for not being able to write as often as I did before. The movie was "The X-Files" and it was thrilling. There was a priest who has been accused for conducting sex abuse to his male students. He grew old regretting his sins and kept asking for God's forgiveness. I noted his comments when a woman blame him for what he had done&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Where is this uncontrollable desires come from? Where is this disgusting appetite come from?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Not from me... I have castrated myself a long time ago"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think what he said is true... it is God who gave him the wrong desires, but still God also wanted him to be close to Him by giving the feeling of regret inside his heart. It is not what someone had done in the past which matter, but how someone learns from the past and then does the good thing in his present life. God is the most merciful, he will welcome anyone who seeks His blessings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7483807168955998541?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7483807168955998541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7483807168955998541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7483807168955998541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7483807168955998541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/08/august.html' title='August?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6782479424820896656</id><published>2008-07-29T18:27:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T06:13:05.425+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man Who Can Not Be Moved</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Wishing for 'the person I love' to do this for me... but the reality is  'the person who loves me' who will do this for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;----------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going back to the  corner where I first saw you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gonna camp in my sleeping bag not I'm not  gonna move,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Got some words on cardboard got your picture in my hand,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saying if you see this girl can you tell her where I am,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some try to  hand me money they don't understand,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm  not... broke I'm just a broken hearted man,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know it makes no sense, but  what else can I do,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How can I move on when I've been in love with you...  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if one day you wake up and find that your missing me,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking  maybe you'd come back here to the place that we'd meet,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you'd see me  waiting for you on the corner of the street.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I'm not moving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm  not moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Policeman says son you can't sit here,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I said there's  someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gotta stand my ground  even if it rains or snows,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If she changes her mind this is the first place  she will go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if one day you wake  up and find that your missing me,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And your heart starts to wonder where on  this earth I can be,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking maybe you'd come back here to the place that  we'd meet,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the  street.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I'm not moving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm  not moving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;People talk about the guy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whos  waiting on a girl...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oohoohwoo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;There on no hole in his shoes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But a big  hole in his world...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maybe I'll get famous as man who can't be  moved,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And maybe you won't mean to but you'll see me on the news,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And  you'll come running to the corner...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos you'll know it's just for  you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm the man who can't be moved&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm the man who can't be moved...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if one day you wake up and find that your missing me,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And your  heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking maybe you'd  come back here to the place that we'd meet,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you'd see me waiting for you  on the corner of the street.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[Repeat in backgroung]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I'm not  moving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not moving...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not  moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going back to the corner where I first saw you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gonna camp in  my sleeping bag not I'm not gonna move.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6782479424820896656?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6782479424820896656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6782479424820896656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6782479424820896656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6782479424820896656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-just-too-good-to-be-true.html' title='The Man Who Can Not Be Moved'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-3126985097985996262</id><published>2008-07-19T22:39:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T06:15:07.956+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Actually</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;... aww it was so touching, I have just finished watching "Love Actually" and this movie was full of heart warming scenes. Let me write down some of the parts that I like about this movie:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. He is a very important person, a prime minister. And she is just an ordinary woman. But, she stole his heart since the very first time just because she is simple. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. He was on a wedding of his beloved one. But he wasn't the man who stood as the groom... it was his bestfriend who was that lucky guy. He recorded every moment of that wedding, every angle of her face, every move she made, every word she said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. She eventually found out that he loves her all this time after seeing the tape. She was stunned.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. He didn't speak her language, but he eventually learned the language because he wants to tell her so much that he loves her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. They are apart, ten thousand miles away. No calls, no news. But tonight he made up his mind that he will find her. He took the last flight and ran to her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-3126985097985996262?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/3126985097985996262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=3126985097985996262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3126985097985996262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/3126985097985996262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-actually.html' title='Love Actually'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-1947364116619979446</id><published>2008-07-19T07:52:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T22:39:22.288+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Good morning! how was your sleep last night? I hope you slept well and dreamed something nice :) Unfortunately I still couldn't sleep enough... yeah those mosquitos really bugged me. I killed many of them, see their dead bodies on my floor? hehehe my blood is not for free, it takes your life to enjoy it. I dreamed something about sports, I played ping-pong, swim, and run but I was a loser... Didn't do them right even in a dream huhuhu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Did you dream about me last night? No? hehehe no problem, that's normal because you don't even know me that much. But if you did dream about me, then I can tell you that you're on the way to fall in love with me.. for sure. Hahaha what?? do you want to say something? Do you think I'm a nut girl for writing things like this as if I'm talking to someone? Oh well, let it be. It's 8am here and am still on my bed, don't feel like going anywhere :P The weather is good outside, and my small garden here outside my room is looking fine too. I have some plants that grow flowers, there are yellow, pink, dark pink, and red flowers. But I don't have roses.... Hmm one day my husband will make a garden of roses for me hahahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just got a call from my ex boyfriend, he told me that one of his rabbit died and guess what was the name of that rabbit... DOKO! he used to call me doko dolog, and that's why he named his two rabbits with Doko and Dolog hehehe. Allright, I got to go... see you soon :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-1947364116619979446?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/1947364116619979446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=1947364116619979446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1947364116619979446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/1947364116619979446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/saturday-morning.html' title='Saturday Morning'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7216175039581280787</id><published>2008-07-18T19:16:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T20:31:37.564+07:00</updated><title type='text'>For You</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SICa-lYtitI/AAAAAAAAAFk/UcvXmerZSXs/s1600-h/rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SICa-lYtitI/AAAAAAAAAFk/UcvXmerZSXs/s320/rose.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224345967728102098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To the World &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You may be One Person, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But to One Person, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You may be the World!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-7216175039581280787?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7216175039581280787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7216175039581280787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7216175039581280787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7216175039581280787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/for-you.html' title='For You'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SICa-lYtitI/AAAAAAAAAFk/UcvXmerZSXs/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7003419758342567303</id><published>2008-07-18T17:18:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T17:25:33.408+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Just like most women... I dream about a beautiful wedding of mine. When I decided to know a man better, it means that since the first place I have put a vision of having him standing beside me on my wedding. Below is a wedding poem by Jalaludin Rumi, a great sufi who was in love with God. I think what he means by "wedding" here is the death, because our death is a wedding with the eternity... a union with God. But let me borrow his beautiful words for just a simple wedding for two human souls.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;----------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May these vows and this marriage be blessed.&lt;br /&gt;May it be sweet milk,&lt;br /&gt;this marriage, like wine and halvah.&lt;br /&gt;May this marriage offer fruit and shade&lt;br /&gt;like the date palm.&lt;br /&gt;May this marriage be full of laughter,&lt;br /&gt;our every day a day in paradise.&lt;br /&gt;May this marriage be a sign of compassion,&lt;br /&gt;a seal of happiness here and hereafter.&lt;br /&gt;May this marriage have a fair face and a good name,&lt;br /&gt;an omen as welcome&lt;br /&gt;as the moon in a clear blue sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am out of words to describe&lt;br /&gt;how spirit mingles in this marriage&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/644237751201104168-7003419758342567303?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7003419758342567303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7003419758342567303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7003419758342567303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7003419758342567303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/wedding.html' title='Wedding'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-8322556984863435022</id><published>2008-07-17T06:50:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T06:57:58.256+07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do I Tell You?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do I tell you to make you understand that I  miss you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do I tell you to make you understand that I love you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Will your heart be open to my heart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My love is as deep as the ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As high as the sky above... for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My love is as huge as the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As broad as the universe... for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do I tell you to make you understand that I  miss you forever?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; How do I tell you to make you understand that I love you forever?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-8322556984863435022?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/8322556984863435022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=8322556984863435022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8322556984863435022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/8322556984863435022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-do-i-tell-you.html' title='How Do I Tell You?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6560506270028299615</id><published>2008-07-15T21:27:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T06:45:26.952+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;What a tiring day... Got no order at all at work :( and I was waiting for you to call me, but you didn't call. Where are you? I think I should sleep now and maybe I will see you again in my dream... just like yesterday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6560506270028299615?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6560506270028299615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6560506270028299615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6560506270028299615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6560506270028299615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-night.html' title='Good Night'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-6054845673102133380</id><published>2008-07-14T22:12:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T21:27:06.822+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You See Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SHtt1iOr90I/AAAAAAAAAEk/88fm8GzypGA/s1600-h/morning+light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SHtt1iOr90I/AAAAAAAAAEk/88fm8GzypGA/s400/morning+light.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222888959355123522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I haven't told you anything about this picture right? So, were you wondering how will you find me there? hehehe actually you will not find me in the picture. It is just another view that I like to see... the peace, silence, and also the hope of a new day starts with sun rises. But, I will stand in the right corner of this picture, staring at it. Thus, you should say "I find you standing right beside me and staring at the picture together"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/644237751201104168-6054845673102133380?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/6054845673102133380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=6054845673102133380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6054845673102133380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/6054845673102133380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/do-you-see-me.html' title='Do You See Me?'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RRoiJ95ARsc/SHtt1iOr90I/AAAAAAAAAEk/88fm8GzypGA/s72-c/morning+light.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-644237751201104168.post-7655726621390925785</id><published>2008-07-14T08:15:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:00:37.000+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring Him Closer By Not Doing Anything</title><content type='html'>This is from Rori Raye - An Expert of Relationship&lt;br /&gt;I think she has a new perspective about how to connect with men. Ooh are you wondering how I got this stuff? hehehe it seems the expert knows who to find.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We believe we have to find a man, approach him, get him talking, interest him, get him to call, make him feel good, show him we're independent by meeting him halfway about everything - where we go on dates, making plans, paying, scheduling, driving - be understanding, make time for him, tell him what we want and pretty much keep things going by DOING something.          &lt;p&gt;At some point in the "relationship," we begin to focus in on him in the way we've been taught. And no matter how self-sufficient and smart and strong we think we are - we turn into "girlfriends" and HOPE that the "relationship" will go where we want it to go. And does this work with a man? No. In fact - it pushes him away!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;And this place we find ourselves in - of believing we have to DO something to find, get, and keep the man of our dreams - this is just what we see all around us, and what we've likely done all our lives. So - how to stop DOING?&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;This shift from Doing to just BEING is the difference between Masculine Energy - which is all&lt;br /&gt;about doing and thinking and acting, and Feminine Energy - which is all about being and feeling and experiencing. Just imagine - if what you want is a man who treats you well, cares for you, and ACTS LIKE A MASCULINE MAN - then what will you get if you initiate, walk up to, Lean Forward, row the rowboat, chat up, chase, call and DO FOR him? What you'll get is: Nothing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He won't feel a connection with you, because the last thing a Masculine Energy Man wants for a&lt;br /&gt;romantic relationship is another Masculine Energy person. Being with a Masculine Energy woman feels to him like being with a man, a buddy, a friend - dressed up as a lovely woman.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;And the reason this is so CHALLENGING for all of us in this moment in history is that we women are just now coming into our own, just now learning how to USE our Masculine Energy to get ahead in our lives and work. We women now want to make a DIFFERENCE in the world, and we need to use our Masculine "Doing" Energy to get this done.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;So how do we shift from "Doing" out in the world, in our work and activities - to "Being" with our man? I call this Shifting Hats, and Yes - you can do it!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;It's all about feeling stronger on the inside, lifting your self-esteem, getting a really positive attitude about the possibilities out there for you - and then opening up in a soft and warm and NOT DOING way to a man on the outside.&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/644237751201104168-7655726621390925785?l=fritaamrita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/feeds/7655726621390925785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=644237751201104168&amp;postID=7655726621390925785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7655726621390925785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/644237751201104168/posts/default/7655726621390925785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fritaamrita.blogspot.com/2008/07/bring-him-closer-by-not-doing-anything.html' title='Bring Him Closer By Not Doing Anything'/><author><name>Frita Amrita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439401165394764049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
