<?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-3111192</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:26:04.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginning of a new Era</title><subtitle type='html'>notes, learnings.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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>343</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-106721232816762234</id><published>2003-10-26T18:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-10-26T18:52:07.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And here I will dwell&lt;br /&gt;With my eyes wide open&lt;br /&gt;But my vision blocked&lt;br /&gt;Waiting to observe the sunrise&lt;br /&gt;A sunrise that will origin&lt;br /&gt;A calamity and&lt;br /&gt;Shake the pillars&lt;br /&gt;Of my fear&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been long waiting for the sunrise&lt;br /&gt;But the impediment clouds&lt;br /&gt;Are causing the sun to conceal&lt;br /&gt;Its strength&lt;br /&gt;The clouds of my shrewdness&lt;br /&gt;Have blinded me&lt;br /&gt;My own creation &lt;br /&gt;Have become my own assassin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-106721232816762234?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106721232816762234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106721232816762234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_10_26_archive.html#106721232816762234' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-106428294905159796</id><published>2003-09-22T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-09-22T22:09:09.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Suppose we accomplish something in our lives. Who gets the credit for this accomplishment? The hardship that was utilized, the relinquishment taken, or the tenacity? Or should you just credit to yourself? If you try to grant credit to yourself, then are you really granting the credits to yourself or someone else? What have you done to attain the objective? Trace back to what you have used or how you have tried to attain. You will apprehend that it is someone else who really should be receiving the credit. The question I am trying to ask is what have learned or gained experience about something without any perceived previous knowledge. Did you learn the letter ‘A’ is ‘A’ without someone else teaching you? First you learnt what ‘A’ is and then you perceived the ‘idea” that “A is for Apple.” &lt;br /&gt;Over the course of history and time historians, leaders, politicians have shared the wisdom with us. Our society and parents have brought us up the way we are today or at least have impacted our lives, thoughts and knowledge. Everything we know is from someone else’s provided knowledge or based on some acquired idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-106428294905159796?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106428294905159796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106428294905159796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_09_21_archive.html#106428294905159796' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-106393732333070574</id><published>2003-09-18T22:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-09-18T22:08:43.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is no security and certainty in this world. We are precarious about our relationships, jobs, foods, cars everything. So what are we trying to attain? How can we attain when we are insecure about most of the aspects of our lives? Intellectually we are trying to achieve or accomplish something and in actuality we are precarious about it or at least we know that it is unstable. However, we still struggle to progress forward. Some of us become auspicious in our lives and some don’t. Then again what defines to be “auspicious?” Should we really compare a fortunate man with someone who is not? What does it mean to be contemplated as fortunate, to have money, to have a good job, to live in an opulent neighborhood or just to breathe in this beautiful world? When misery clouts you, just remember that there is someone who is in lowly situation than you are, even though in most cases this doesn’t change anything. And that brings up another fact, most of us in most cases aren’t blissful about our situations. Regardless of what we accomplish or what we have acquired, we still desire more. &lt;br /&gt;-will continue     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-106393732333070574?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106393732333070574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106393732333070574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_09_14_archive.html#106393732333070574' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-106065564476392010</id><published>2003-08-11T22:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-08-11T22:34:04.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Please pardon my weariness God. Never let me fall behind, fall behind of my path.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-106065564476392010?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106065564476392010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/106065564476392010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_08_10_archive.html#106065564476392010' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-95008481</id><published>2003-05-28T18:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-28T18:18:52.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Still I hear a child weep&lt;br /&gt;His moaning is excruciating for me&lt;br /&gt;But I would rather drink it with hemlock&lt;br /&gt;Than to be swindled by your deceiving smile.&lt;br /&gt;I have been blessed and purified&lt;br /&gt;By the child's tears.&lt;br /&gt;Each salty drop&lt;br /&gt;Gives me strength&lt;br /&gt;To rise up against&lt;br /&gt;Your beauty's quick sand traps.&lt;br /&gt;My only defeat is that&lt;br /&gt;I haven't found a true soul&lt;br /&gt;His weeping has changed &lt;br /&gt;My monologue to dialogue.&lt;br /&gt;The audience applauds&lt;br /&gt;As I strip down&lt;br /&gt;Each of my pretentious elements.&lt;br /&gt;The question is:&lt;br /&gt;To whom should I bestow upon my detestation?&lt;br /&gt;Is it you or me... or the me inside me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-95008481?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/95008481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/95008481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#95008481' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-94896754</id><published>2003-05-26T10:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-26T10:05:23.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A prehistoric wish &lt;br /&gt;Crawls up on the &lt;br /&gt;Feeble pillars of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;A wish that is not&lt;br /&gt;Designated by me&lt;br /&gt;Rather imposed on me.&lt;br /&gt;A wish that is imposed on me&lt;br /&gt;By a secluded primeval tree&lt;br /&gt;Which has composed&lt;br /&gt;A tranquil bond&lt;br /&gt;With the ripples&lt;br /&gt;In my abstract thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;As the shimmering radiance intervenes&lt;br /&gt;Through the deteriorated leaves&lt;br /&gt;The parasites that were&lt;br /&gt;Crippling my reasoning capability&lt;br /&gt;Are engulfed by the saliva&lt;br /&gt;Of my struggle for survival&lt;br /&gt;And as for me,&lt;br /&gt;I face the worst fear&lt;br /&gt;Of my life&lt;br /&gt; The fear of exile&lt;br /&gt;From my brotherhood.&lt;br /&gt;The fear that I've been&lt;br /&gt;Nurturing with poise.&lt;br /&gt;The last few verses &lt;br /&gt;Of my scuffle are&lt;br /&gt;Synonymous to &lt;br /&gt;Covering my body &lt;br /&gt;With a ragged quilt&lt;br /&gt;And dreaming to feel the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-94896754?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/94896754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/94896754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2003_05_25_archive.html#94896754' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-85927547</id><published>2002-12-12T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-12T22:56:16.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today soon will be tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;yet i feel like i haven't reached even today&lt;br /&gt;neither here nor there&lt;br /&gt;but my destination awaits me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-85927547?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/85927547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/85927547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_12_08_archive.html#85927547' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-85091064</id><published>2002-11-25T23:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-25T23:16:48.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as i breath in the smell of &lt;br /&gt;irrelevant incidents of the night&lt;br /&gt;i speak a language&lt;br /&gt;that noone knows&lt;br /&gt;noone comprehends&lt;br /&gt;i speak a language&lt;br /&gt;that, not even the night can engulf&lt;br /&gt;but somehow i can feel that the&lt;br /&gt;sodium lights understood&lt;br /&gt;my morse code&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-85091064?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/85091064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/85091064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_24_archive.html#85091064' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84864455</id><published>2002-11-21T06:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-21T06:25:52.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Often it rains inside us&lt;br /&gt;Often we are humming a song&lt;br /&gt;To prove our existence to ourselves&lt;br /&gt;Often we reminiscence the old days&lt;br /&gt;To remember&lt;br /&gt;And to be remembered&lt;br /&gt;“I came…. I lived……I lay breathless”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84864455?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84864455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84864455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84864455' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84452294</id><published>2002-11-12T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-12T22:30:57.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Philosophy of the day: if you want to learn something completely then look at it from different perspectives. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84452294?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84452294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84452294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84452294' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84451775</id><published>2002-11-12T22:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-12T22:19:58.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today, while coming back from work, inside the Path train i realized that a child's laugh is priceless!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84451775?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84451775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84451775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84451775' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84417335</id><published>2002-11-12T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-12T09:13:38.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am quite sure you guys get those junk emails from matchmaker.com with subject lines like "Meet Singles in your area" or "We found a perfect match for you" etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a friend, who goes by "foolmaker." &lt;br /&gt;[NO OFFENSE TO YOU FOOLMAKER]"&lt;br /&gt;but if i change the subject lines then the emails become more appealing to me :)&lt;br /&gt;"Meet fools in your area"&lt;br /&gt;"We found a perfect fool for you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84417335?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84417335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84417335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84417335' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84400029</id><published>2002-11-11T23:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T23:22:10.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was just thinking......... my blog's name is "Beginning of a new Era," so where or when is the end?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84400029?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84400029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84400029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84400029' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84399069</id><published>2002-11-11T22:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T22:59:43.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hey can someone provide me with some new keywords to search for a job???&lt;br /&gt;i am all out..&lt;br /&gt;maybe i should make a "Webster-Job Search Dictionary"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84399069?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84399069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84399069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84399069' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84398968</id><published>2002-11-11T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T23:40:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so where was I all these days????&lt;br /&gt;right here..... on the 3rd floor of an 150 years old apartment building, sitting on that same chair, typing away gibberish and looking out right through the window for a glance of the fading Empire State Building.... &lt;br /&gt;hmmm why is it fading........... is it the clouds or my vision&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84398968?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84398968' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84398828</id><published>2002-11-11T22:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T22:54:39.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hey look... finally i posted something!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84398828?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84398828' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-84398803</id><published>2002-11-11T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-11T22:54:08.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I will try to be regular from now :) &lt;br /&gt;(but not a promise though!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-84398803?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/84398803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_11_10_archive.html#84398803' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-77994344</id><published>2002-06-20T16:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-20T16:32:39.893-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>after seeing you&lt;br /&gt;....long long time&lt;br /&gt;a chill current&lt;br /&gt;ran through my vertebrae&lt;br /&gt;not because i was scared&lt;br /&gt;not because my nerves were paralyzed&lt;br /&gt;not because skin was burnt&lt;br /&gt;but because i looked&lt;br /&gt;deep inside my spirit&lt;br /&gt;as it was fading away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-77994344?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77994344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77994344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#77994344' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-77890998</id><published>2002-06-18T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-18T11:09:32.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am inviting you&lt;br /&gt;i am inviting you all&lt;br /&gt;visit me on your way back&lt;br /&gt;my address is the dust from the secluded ally&lt;br /&gt;i am inviting you&lt;br /&gt;i am inviting you all&lt;br /&gt;come as the sunshine within the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;come as a bold arrow&lt;br /&gt;penetrating my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-77890998?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77890998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77890998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#77890998' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-77887491</id><published>2002-06-18T09:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-18T09:27:44.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>seems like a "job" has become rara avis for me. those of you who are in situation like I am, know how stressful it is looking for a job. i need a vacation from "in quest for a job"&lt;br /&gt;God Almighty helppppppppppppppp me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-77887491?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77887491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77887491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#77887491' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-77870759</id><published>2002-06-17T22:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-17T22:14:33.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>comprehend this:-------------&gt; &lt;br /&gt;not every patient moment in your life is going to be a gift of rose&lt;br /&gt;---rose doesn't bloom&lt;br /&gt;not every similar bloodshed will cause a shattered mind&lt;br /&gt;---lotus won't appear at the surface of the water&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-77870759?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77870759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77870759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_06_16_archive.html#77870759' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-77652024</id><published>2002-06-12T09:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-12T09:27:38.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wowwwwwww its been two months since i have written anything!! &lt;br /&gt;i don't know why i am back here again, i was so tied up with my school and life. well i am done with school now!!! hippyyyyyy. i don't plan to go back to rutgers anymore unless they want to bring me in as the president of the school.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't think i would graduate this semester, but i did and it feels sooooooo goodddddddddddddd. i couldn't have done it without the help of the four people, well 3 people and one of them, i don't know if that special someone can be considered as "people." but i thank each one of you from my little heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now a days i use the computer for only three reasons, #uno is work, #des is find a job,  # tres is check email. &lt;br /&gt;hopefully i will be a regular customer here from now on :)&lt;br /&gt;chao&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-77652024?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77652024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/77652024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_06_09_archive.html#77652024' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-75254291</id><published>2002-04-10T14:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-10T14:41:21.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Many teardrops have become the lyrics&lt;br /&gt;life's alphabets have become lost memories&lt;br /&gt;only in expectance of your return&lt;br /&gt;is my desolate soul. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-75254291?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/75254291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/75254291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_04_07_archive.html#75254291' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-11262485</id><published>2002-03-29T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-29T18:53:54.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you are so beautiful as if you never existed, and now you are extinct as i am. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-11262485?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/11262485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/11262485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_03_24_archive.html#11262485' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-10565100</id><published>2002-03-09T15:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-09T15:37:23.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the days that i have erased from my past, are calling back to turn around. the memories are painted on night's canvass now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-10565100?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/10565100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/10565100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_03_03_archive.html#10565100' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-10150373</id><published>2002-02-26T13:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-26T13:16:29.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>close your eyes, spread your arms to me and take the first step. I will be there for you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-10150373?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/10150373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/10150373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_24_archive.html#10150373' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9967546</id><published>2002-02-21T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-21T12:36:29.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!&lt;br /&gt;make sure you ask the heavenly people to play happy birthday song for you! and yea throme a piece of cake from there and get an icecream cake that's what i want to eat.&lt;br /&gt;happy birthday again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9967546?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9967546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9967546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_17_archive.html#9967546' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9961574</id><published>2002-02-21T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-21T09:21:35.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so i didn't get layed off from my job, but i didn't get the raise that i was supposed to. i am not complaining though, i am happy that i have this job and i am not looking for one. well i am looking, but that's for after graduation. hope i get the job that is lined up so far. but i am just so freaking dull now. well my brain is. with all the six classes, midterms, projects, homeworks, works, family affairs...i am on a verge to have a nervous breakdown soon since i am not getting enough sleep at all... i don't even have the time to write anything, well i don't actually feel like writing anymore with all the thing that are happening lately... i hope it ends soon and well...i hope..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9961574?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9961574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9961574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_17_archive.html#9961574' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9667836</id><published>2002-02-12T22:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-12T22:41:12.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so i had an awesome weekend and it was relaxing as well. i so didn't want it to end. i don't know what lies in front of me. probably some bad news as usual. &lt;br /&gt;but i had a good birthday. after a loooooooooooooong time, someone celebrated my birthday! i actually ate my birthday cake. i can't remember when is the last time i ate my birthday cake, and it was simply great. i didn't expect anything since nothing happens and i don't want anything anyway. but this birthday was exceptionally great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9667836?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9667836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9667836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_10_archive.html#9667836' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9476808</id><published>2002-02-07T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-07T09:22:58.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i have a bad feeling that i will get laid off. i can't take another lay off at this point in my life. God please help me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9476808?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9476808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9476808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_03_archive.html#9476808' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9476682</id><published>2002-02-07T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-07T09:18:14.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>don't be a question in my life. be an absolute truth rather and be a part of me. because i am tired of carrying you the path is full of thorns and your cross is becoming too heavy for me. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9476682?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9476682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9476682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_03_archive.html#9476682' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9365225</id><published>2002-02-04T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-04T11:50:49.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>life has been so hectic...everything is just falling apart. so many people with so many requests, so much expectations... study, job, family...people... so many problems. i don't feel like doing anything AT ALL. not even writing blogs. so pathetic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9365225?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9365225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9365225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_02_03_archive.html#9365225' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9234087</id><published>2002-01-31T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-31T10:43:12.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One day I will revisit&lt;br /&gt;on one blooming daisy dawn&lt;br /&gt;I will stand alone in expectance&lt;br /&gt;Of your aroma through the window&lt;br /&gt;You remain in anticipation&lt;br /&gt;For that day&lt;br /&gt;Grief from absentmindedness&lt;br /&gt;Or little passible sorrows&lt;br /&gt;Or resembling dawn’s serene mist&lt;br /&gt;Don’t take yourself away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will come&lt;br /&gt;To convey you &lt;br /&gt;My story of laughter and tears.&lt;br /&gt;One golden evening&lt;br /&gt;Resting under a pine tree&lt;br /&gt;Or one moonlit night&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on moon’s lap&lt;br /&gt;You just wait&lt;br /&gt;For that day to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I shall return&lt;br /&gt;With a handful of rain drops&lt;br /&gt;In your barren land&lt;br /&gt;To obliterate your fatigues&lt;br /&gt;From sorrow&lt;br /&gt;From pain&lt;br /&gt;You just wait&lt;br /&gt;For that day to come. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9234087?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9234087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9234087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_27_archive.html#9234087' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9124566</id><published>2002-01-28T11:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-28T11:13:56.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When I walk along the beach, or cross from shore to shore I try to ignore it. I seize it as I would a dead man's skull and wish to smash it on the ground. Yet it spins like a living head all around my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9124566?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9124566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9124566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_27_archive.html#9124566' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9121831</id><published>2002-01-28T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-28T09:26:27.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Inside my heart a sensation is born. I can't escape it. All thought, an eternity of prayer seems empty...just empty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9121831?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9121831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9121831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_27_archive.html#9121831' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9090367</id><published>2002-01-27T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-27T09:13:17.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>life just became even more difficult. why do bad things continue to happen to me????&lt;br /&gt;can't i get a break? don't i deserve one?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9090367?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9090367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9090367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_27_archive.html#9090367' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9050350</id><published>2002-01-25T18:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-25T18:16:06.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have to redefine myself. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9050350?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9050350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9050350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#9050350' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9012155</id><published>2002-01-24T15:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-24T15:24:23.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When millions of psyches where asleep in the darkness, in this city, I kindled some reminiscences at that instant. Sometimes I decorated them in the vase of my dreams. It was sparkling by red, blue and pink colors. Now, the black ink has imposed its blotch. It has lost its fresh aroma. It is lying motionless, like a lifeless dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9012155?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9012155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9012155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#9012155' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9011203</id><published>2002-01-24T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-24T14:48:34.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>QUIET PHILOSOPHY OF LOVE &lt;br /&gt;CANT APPEASE THE HEART ANY MORE. &lt;br /&gt;SPRIT AND THE FLESH, NOWDAYS &lt;br /&gt;SPROUT UP WITH DEEP--NAUGHTY EMOTIONS. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9011203?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9011203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9011203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#9011203' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-9006718</id><published>2002-01-24T12:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-24T12:14:37.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>everyday i translate burning sun's shadow, noon's tan complexion. but still i am restless, thirsty for more. i never have enough. i never have anything. &lt;br /&gt;every evening i characterize night's nature and when the cool breeze from the ocean mingles with my thoughts, i create a withered circle of fate.&lt;br /&gt;my mountainous incompetence are defeated against the nemesis, so called, "feelings" i don't look back for any calm/peaceful moment after the intercourse with my evil side. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-9006718?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9006718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/9006718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#9006718' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8976625</id><published>2002-01-23T15:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-23T15:24:52.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"The Country of Rising Sun" otherwise known as Japan. but in Japan, "Japan" is not known/called as "Japan" rather its known as Nippon or Nihon. "Nipp/Nih" means "The Sun" "on" means "root."&lt;br /&gt;that's why it is the called "The country of rising sun." &lt;br /&gt;but why we call the country "Japan?"&lt;br /&gt;In China, it was known as "ji-jpang" and then the European started "Japon/Japan" etc. so now we refer to the country as "Japan."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8976625?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8976625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8976625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8976625' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8954126</id><published>2002-01-22T22:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-22T22:18:05.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Occasionally it is quite difficult to comprehend a subject matter. Sometimes the brain pretends to understand the material, but when it comes to writing back a summary of the understand….not an easy task. So do we really understand a material or not. I myself face this enigma. Quite often I hear the susurration of flowing sentences…from one ear to another ear. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the scenario is like this: I understand a material, but I can’t make someone else understand it. Ain’t it ironic. I am a good teacher or should I say “explainer.”  Hell I am the “Guru.” I will take the novice, step by step; answering all the questions (whether I know the answer or not…because I am a MAN), and yes I have abundant patience to walk through the novice. But even the Guru’s knowledge feels somnolent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8954126?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8954126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8954126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8954126' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8953086</id><published>2002-01-22T21:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-22T21:47:45.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lesson for the day: my failures are my fault. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8953086?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8953086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8953086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8953086' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8906631</id><published>2002-01-21T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-21T14:52:38.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here, time has stopped for eternity. Words are getting longer and longer every moment. Sight has become blurry. In every step, obstacle has turned into an ancient spooky castle. In the grove, I see ripe fruits of pain. Dreams are on a riot, shattered minds are broken by strikes of glass. I won’t get scared when I see a constellation on the eastern sky, not even the crippled memories will be scared, neither the white wall nor the copious dead people. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8906631?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8906631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8906631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8906631' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8905384</id><published>2002-01-21T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-21T14:08:08.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You ask me repeatedly, how much I love you. I don’t know what could be a definitive answer to that question. If I say, its perimeter is as big as Atlantic Ocean, still it won’t be adequate. If I say equal to Everest’s height, it will be much less. If I say, wide as a galaxy, still it will be small enough not to be counted. Actually, how much I love….question is huge. I can’t find a definite answer, sweat deposits on my forehead. The truth is, love is an “Entity” which couldn’t be punched in a calculator and divide/add/subtract or multiplied by. Literally, love is a member of “feelings” family. Its depth and height can be measured by that family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8905384?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8905384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8905384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8905384' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8900182</id><published>2002-01-21T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-21T10:44:56.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>an advice: don't tell jokes to any teenage girls. they will make your life miserable. once you tell them the joke, they will constantly ask you to tell the same joke every time you see them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;in this world, there are some lucky people whose jokes are "eaten by public." this is a great qualification, but these people look very gloomy later in their life. they look life 50 when they are really 40. the reason is, other people will laugh at everything he/she says. "i didn't eat anything the whole day because i didn't have any money." &lt;br /&gt;"hahahahhahah" that's the respond from the audience. and eventually that person becomes frustrated in life. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8900182?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8900182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8900182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8900182' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8898462</id><published>2002-01-21T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-21T09:30:59.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh, today is the last day of my winter vacation. tomorrow school begins again. i hope this will be my last semester. i have a 8:10am class, so i need to wake up around 5:30am to get ready for it. i really don't want to wake up that early during cold days. looking at current economic situation, sometimes i feel like i have wasted 4 years in college, should've gone to devry or chubb and get a certificate from them. why do i have to feel such load on me.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8898462?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8898462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8898462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8898462' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8885704</id><published>2002-01-20T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-20T22:06:29.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lesson of the day: i must be who i am. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8885704?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8885704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8885704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8885704' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8870795</id><published>2002-01-20T11:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-20T11:35:30.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes people could be so obtuse. even when they see what you are doing, they will still ask you "what are you doing?" so next time when someone asks you such questions, you could give 3 different answers.&lt;br /&gt;here are couple of scenarios:&lt;br /&gt;1. a guy goes to a jewelery store:&lt;br /&gt;-do you sell jeweleries?&lt;br /&gt;a: no, you can get those from K-Mart next door.&lt;br /&gt;b: no, we put them in our vault.&lt;br /&gt;c: no, in this store, we make the jewelery and sell it to the factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. a guy taking a nap.&lt;br /&gt;- are you taking a nap?&lt;br /&gt;a: no, i am lying because i am dead. where is the flower?&lt;br /&gt;b: no no i am just lying.&lt;br /&gt;c: no, i am just dreaming, a dumbass is asking me if i am taking a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. a guy staring at the sky.&lt;br /&gt;- are you staring at the sky?&lt;br /&gt;a: no, i am just looking for you. where have you been?&lt;br /&gt;b: no, i am just searching for my dog, his name is pluto.&lt;br /&gt;c: no, i am just looking for Neil Armstrong's lost shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. a guy goes to a fax/copier/phone store.&lt;br /&gt;-can  i make a phone call?&lt;br /&gt;a: if you can't then i will teach you.&lt;br /&gt;b: are you nuts? no one makes a phone call from a fax machine.&lt;br /&gt;c:  why would you call someone using my phone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. a guy reading a newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;-are you reading the newspaper?&lt;br /&gt;a: no, i am memorizing it.&lt;br /&gt;b: no, i am just hiding my face in shame behind it after reading the news of mankind.&lt;br /&gt;c: no, i will play football, so i am tying the strings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. a guy hanging himself.&lt;br /&gt;-are you hanging yourself?&lt;br /&gt;a: no, the rope is hanging me.&lt;br /&gt;b: oh c'mon where have you been. this is the latest jewelery fashion.&lt;br /&gt;c: i don't know yet. but if you read tomorrow's newspaper then you will know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8870795?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8870795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8870795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8870795' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8869134</id><published>2002-01-20T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-20T09:57:42.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>INTERVIEW PART II:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blogger: that was quite a long break.&lt;br /&gt;Guru: i have been waiting here for you for 36 hours. you are the one who was enjoying the lap dancing!&lt;br /&gt;-oh yeah:) that was me!. so anyway, let's get back. why do you use me as your "notebook?"&lt;br /&gt;-because no more pages left in those three/five pages college notebook:) i use you to write because i want to spend some with me on my own, with my thoughts, my not spoken words. i need some me-time as well.&lt;br /&gt;-but i don't think you are completely free with me.&lt;br /&gt;-well i don't write everything on you. some precious proses are written in a place where no one could read them and no i am not telling you and don't feel jealous because MAYBE what i write on you is a reflection of my precious prose.&lt;br /&gt;-that makes me feel much better! one personal question, why do you pretend?&lt;br /&gt;-ok you are not supposed to peep in my mind, you have to ask question from "outside" of my mind. i discovered a very simple truth a while back, which is, it takes a little bit of love/affection to make someone happy, and yes even if i have to pretend to make someone happy i would do it. but i am not that stupid to put myself in a position which will be harmful for me to make someone happy. &lt;br /&gt;-do you like to make everyone happy?&lt;br /&gt;-hell no! "i am nice, but not that nice." i will try to help out someone IF AND ONLY IF i am capable and available to do it and as long as it doesn't hurt me. &lt;br /&gt;-so what do you expect from life?&lt;br /&gt;-i can't expect anything out of something that i don't have right? i don't expect anything from life but i have lots of expectation from me.&lt;br /&gt;-don't you think people exaggerate or lie when they 'i don't have a life"&lt;br /&gt;-as far as "me" goes, i think i do exaggerate or maybe i don't. i mean i don't complain about my life but i am not too happy with the type of life i lead either, it could've been the other way but its not and hopefully by achieving my expecation from myself, i will be able to lead the type of life that i want to. &lt;br /&gt;-ok we are running out of time, what do you have to say to this world?&lt;br /&gt;-"this world desires for me, don't fasten me with your shackle, loosen your arms and let me be a free pigeon."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8869134?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8869134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8869134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_20_archive.html#8869134' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8786799</id><published>2002-01-17T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-17T13:23:26.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lesson for the day:&lt;br /&gt;my hobbies are my responsibilities. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8786799?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8786799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8786799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8786799' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8782742</id><published>2002-01-17T10:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-17T10:57:02.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An interview with GuruTheMan himself by blogger.&lt;br /&gt;(Since i am a human, so i asseverate that i may be not be completely honest. i don't where and how i will end up in terms of answering the questions. however i will not enjoin blooger to ask any type of offensive question.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blogger:- good morning.&lt;br /&gt;Guru:- morning.&lt;br /&gt;blogger:- how is everything?&lt;br /&gt;Guru: Since I don't have "everything," so i don't know how "everything" is. Sorry don’t have an answer to that.&lt;br /&gt;-so i have noticed lately you have been mocking yourself, why is that?&lt;br /&gt;-i always mock myself. but i just don't mock myself, i also pat on my back after achieving  a task. why should i let other people mock me when i can do it to myself and do it better than others.&lt;br /&gt;-but shouldn't you also consider seeing yourself through others' eyes?&lt;br /&gt;- first of all, you are in no position what i should or shouldn't do. just kidding :) yes i do look at me through others' eyes, but there are only few people in this planet whose eyes i consider.&lt;br /&gt;-do you think you are a limpid person?&lt;br /&gt;-i am if you know me. i am not if you don't. as far as my jokes, motto, philosophy or whatever i say go, there are only three people who would understand completely.&lt;br /&gt;-so other people who don't understand your jokes, do you think they might get hurt or feel offended?&lt;br /&gt;-i am not an aggressive person. i will joke with people i know and who know me, so they don't get offended at least i hope not! &lt;br /&gt;-how would rate yourself as a person. &lt;br /&gt;-if I am drunk, then I win noble prize in every possible category, otherwise I am a lower class bitch. Speaking of drink, how about one round? Let’s take a break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8782742?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8782742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8782742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8782742' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8768260</id><published>2002-01-16T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-16T22:13:28.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>isn't the mind a better magician than hoodini? it makes you see whatever it pleases. it makes you think whatever it wants. do we have the ability to control the mind...is there a mind behind the mind which lets us control the "mind" or there is just one single individual mind which controls all our emotions/brain etc...&lt;br /&gt;hmmm i am getting a headache....to much thinking not good for your dull brain Guru.... don't choose this path to make your both sides of the brain work!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****************more on this later*******************&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8768260?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8768260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8768260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8768260' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8752326</id><published>2002-01-16T13:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-16T13:01:42.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lesson of the day: &lt;br /&gt;life is a song. you compose the tune, you write the lyrics, you decide the tempo and the beat. but by the time you are done with composing and becoming the conductor, its too late for you hear listen to it. but other people will sing your song and recompose a new version of it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8752326?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8752326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8752326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8752326' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8748086</id><published>2002-01-16T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-16T10:35:13.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>how come i don't see dreams anymore? i seriously haven't seen a nice dream or even just a dream in a long long time. i guess one half of my brain doesn't work when i am sleeping, wasn't this the theory of dream. who am i kidding even when i am awake, both sides of my brain don't work anyway!&lt;br /&gt;maybe that's an observation.... i should start working on it then... what could be a good idea to do some brainstorming? &lt;br /&gt;study? hellz no, school doesn't start till next week and i ain't going near to any text book.&lt;br /&gt;chess? i don't even have it...i can't even remember the last time i played it&lt;br /&gt;puzzle? yea right..whatever left up there will be extinct soon after try to solve the puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;the only thing i am good at is thinking....some unusual and weird thoughts... &lt;br /&gt;yea that's what i am going to pursue.... &lt;br /&gt;my dreams are lost &lt;br /&gt;thought is my host..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8748086?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8748086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8748086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8748086' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8715846</id><published>2002-01-15T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-15T11:38:11.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dawn’s company&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never do I get tired of staring at dusk now&lt;br /&gt;Because I know for sure that&lt;br /&gt;In this darkness&lt;br /&gt;Whether no one is awake or not&lt;br /&gt;I know for sure that&lt;br /&gt;One breathing life will be&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for me&lt;br /&gt;And any moment &lt;br /&gt;That person will lit up the light&lt;br /&gt;And welcome me with warm arms&lt;br /&gt;“I am still awake for you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you sleeping?”&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;-Nah.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;Contemplating.&lt;br /&gt;-Sleep.&lt;br /&gt;-its so cold today.&lt;br /&gt;-should I turn on the light?&lt;br /&gt;-nah.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;where is your light blue shirt?&lt;br /&gt;Which one?&lt;br /&gt;The one that you wore on our first date.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;when will the summer come. Getting older.&lt;br /&gt;-now days the clouds aren’t steady anymore.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;today, Kyle was supposed to come. Did he?&lt;br /&gt;-Nah. (silence)&lt;br /&gt;are you feeling sick?&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I found a letter that you wrote to me. It was your first letter to me.&lt;br /&gt;Where is it?&lt;br /&gt;-its here, do you want to see it?&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;-let me turn on the light.&lt;br /&gt;Not necessary. I will look at it later.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;how is your headache?&lt;br /&gt;Its much better.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;now days, you don’t write much; like you used to.&lt;br /&gt;-yeah I will start again.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;you look very sick. You should get some more sleep.&lt;br /&gt;What were you pondering?&lt;br /&gt;-a full moon night. Not even one shade of darkness.&lt;br /&gt;(silence)&lt;br /&gt;what time is it?&lt;br /&gt;-if you want, you could write better.&lt;br /&gt;-its time for morning prayer.&lt;br /&gt;-let’s go out and walk over the grass covered with mist. I haven’t seen a perfect dawn in a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8715846?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8715846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8715846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8715846' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8712701</id><published>2002-01-15T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-15T09:28:51.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so this morning i received 1256 junk emails!!!! &lt;br /&gt;and all of them, no i didn't look at ALL of them...just the first page, were from the same domain with a subject, "reduce your mortgage"&lt;br /&gt;i still can't believe someone actually sat in front of a computer and sent the emails 1256 times.. or i don't know there might be somekind of software that does the work..sheesh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8712701?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8712701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8712701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8712701' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8686035</id><published>2002-01-14T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-15T11:41:29.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Who am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been published. Sunk into my own personality. My legend is in a dumb’s orifice. My good look is seen only through a blind’s eye. I live on the other globe, contained by the heart of a dead father. I love flowers, birds, rivers, humankind and this world. My journey is on earth’s orbit, whose echo I eavesdrop everyday…. unaccompanied. &lt;br /&gt;My weakness: I don’t recognize the true color of dusk and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8686035?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8686035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8686035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8686035' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8684092</id><published>2002-01-14T13:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-14T13:08:03.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Is it possible for a man to be born with two penises? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's rare, even in the star-studded annals of teratology. The only gent I could find to have been blessed with two members - and two full sized ones, it should be added - was one Juan Battista de los Santos who lived in the USA in the mid 19th century. A very happy man, according to his doctors, he was able to achieve simultaneous orgasms with two separate partners."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----Courtesy of bizzaremag.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how many penises you got osama??????????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8684092?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8684092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8684092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8684092' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8679190</id><published>2002-01-14T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-14T09:56:39.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fears grow when you feed them, otherwise they're just mare's nests and moonshine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8679190?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8679190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8679190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8679190' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8654248</id><published>2002-01-13T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-13T13:12:57.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>now a days most people believe in feminism (i don't how true that is!). but whether its true or not, there is a difference between women and A MAN, let's have a looksy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if a woman is asked about direction, she will give or at least try to give the right direction. if she doesn't know the direction, she will admit and say " i don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the other hand, if A MAN is asked about direction, he will say go straight down the block, make a right and a quick left and then another left and a right after that and you will see the place (whether he knows the place or not!). A MAN never admits and say "i don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8654248?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8654248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8654248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8654248' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8650240</id><published>2002-01-13T09:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-13T09:25:57.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i will go away...away from you...far away from you&lt;br /&gt;but my existence will remain in between the pages of your diary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8650240?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8650240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8650240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8650240' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8650084</id><published>2002-01-13T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-13T09:13:47.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>good morning "morning,"&lt;br /&gt;i don't know if anyone ever said good morning to you... but you deserve a "good' before you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8650084?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8650084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8650084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_13_archive.html#8650084' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8617060</id><published>2002-01-11T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-11T22:30:23.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>On 11/26/01 I wrote a blog about my cold:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cold cold cold &lt;br /&gt;why are you so bold &lt;br /&gt;you make me sick &lt;br /&gt;how will i attract chic &lt;br /&gt;my whole body aches &lt;br /&gt;color of tomato and my nose matches &lt;br /&gt;but i will be not be fragile &lt;br /&gt;rather accept the agony with smile :)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... on 01/11/02 cold responded to that blog: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have caught you again&lt;br /&gt;Don't presume this time it will be in vain&lt;br /&gt;But rather deadlier than last time&lt;br /&gt;In your ears, there will be a "cold" chime&lt;br /&gt;With or without me, you can't attract any chic&lt;br /&gt;That's 'cuz your brain doesn't click!&lt;br /&gt;Oh now your poor body is in pain&lt;br /&gt;Some body you got, no joy here in stayin'&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, this time you better be fragile&lt;br /&gt;Because I am going to have the last smile! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8617060?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8617060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8617060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8617060' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8572544</id><published>2002-01-10T13:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-10T13:49:35.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>can you imagine how these lawyers will turn out to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lawyer: did you notice anybody putting anything in your bad while you were unconscious?&lt;br /&gt;Victim: how could I possibly do so while I was unconscious!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prosecutor: were you present there while your photograph was taken? &lt;br /&gt;Victim: what the…!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Prosecutor: are you sure this corpse is not you or your twin brother?&lt;br /&gt;Victim: what the…!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prosecutor: tell me; the blind letters you used to get, whose name and address appeared on the envelope?&lt;br /&gt;Victim: what the…!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prosecutor: when your husband died on your 30th birthday; how old were you then?&lt;br /&gt;Victim: what the…!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8572544?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8572544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8572544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8572544' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8571816</id><published>2002-01-10T13:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-10T15:02:02.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i don't know if blogger is male or female...i don't know blog's gender (i am writing this because of the last sentence of my previous blog)... maybe it was a latina babe or maybe it was a latina stud...oh holy cow!!! do you realize that blog is like God, who doesn't have a gender either!!&lt;br /&gt;such a strong comparison!&lt;br /&gt;oy hoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8571816?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8571816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8571816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8571816' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8566148</id><published>2002-01-10T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-10T09:38:42.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a duet with THE blog itself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: with or without i am all alone.&lt;br /&gt;blog: that's because you are a general moron.&lt;br /&gt;me: you just give, never ask any return in back.&lt;br /&gt;blog: that's because you don't have any gratitude, which you lack.&lt;br /&gt;me: i've always used you as a notebook, on which i write.&lt;br /&gt;blog: some prose you write! wish you were tad bit bright!&lt;br /&gt;me: don't worry someday i will write something good.&lt;br /&gt;blog: oh, i will treasure that in my stomach as a delicious food.&lt;br /&gt;me: you will see, one day i will rise and shine.&lt;br /&gt;blog: good day sir, i see this latina babe, oh la la..she is fiiiiineee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8566148?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8566148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8566148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8566148' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8565385</id><published>2002-01-10T09:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-10T09:02:49.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>congratulations to Michael Jackson for being the artist of the century.&lt;br /&gt;Congratulaitons to Gurutheman for being the bloggist of the century!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8565385?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8565385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8565385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8565385' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8554390</id><published>2002-01-09T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T22:03:51.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>“They are sleeping the everlasting sleep&lt;br /&gt;do not summon them”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a song I heard last year…but these two lines for some reason are bolted tightly in my mind… what is coming in my unpredictable future???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8554390?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8554390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8554390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8554390' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8540872</id><published>2002-01-09T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T11:06:07.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;html&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt; Dream Watcher &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blood drips from the heart&lt;br /&gt;As if it is crowned, made of thorns&lt;br /&gt;There is some other perilous wonder&lt;br /&gt;That frolics in my very blood&lt;br /&gt;Every drop is guarding the entrance&lt;br /&gt;No sleep could enter&lt;br /&gt;No dreams could trespass.&lt;br /&gt;Sorrow’s epidemic has given birth&lt;br /&gt;To a new gloomy stream&lt;br /&gt;I turn back reluctantly&lt;br /&gt;To the stream&lt;br /&gt;To become a statue of salt&lt;br /&gt;I have cleansed my restless soul &lt;br /&gt;in spring water&lt;br /&gt;but look at my soul now&lt;br /&gt;Filled with glory of death&lt;br /&gt;Dying in the grass like&lt;br /&gt;Withered morning daisies&lt;br /&gt;Living close to a graveyard&lt;br /&gt;I am almost a grave&lt;br /&gt;In the morgue, &lt;br /&gt;my heart at ease&lt;br /&gt;In the morgue, &lt;br /&gt;in that suffocating stillness &lt;br /&gt;Like a flattened rat with blood-smeared lips.&lt;br /&gt;Living close to the martyrs&lt;br /&gt; I am almost a martyr&lt;br /&gt;"Never again will I wake&lt;br /&gt;Never again will I know&lt;br /&gt;The unremitting, unrelenting grievous&lt;br /&gt;Pain of waking."&lt;br /&gt;An intimate sky it would seem-some pervasive life force&lt;br /&gt;Controls my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Darkness once again thickens throughout the sky&lt;br /&gt;This darkness, like light's mysterious sister&lt;br /&gt;She who has loved me always,&lt;br /&gt;Whose face I have yet to see,&lt;br /&gt;Like that woman&lt;br /&gt;Is this darkness, deepening, and closing in upon the sky.&lt;br /&gt;Dream, I will also be immortal in the shrine of your feet&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, what garland you are preparing for me.&lt;br /&gt;accept my dowry: the promise of a bleeding heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/html&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8540872?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8540872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8540872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8540872' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8539113</id><published>2002-01-09T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T09:48:51.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so britney spears has become number two in "worst dressed woman of the year" category.... i don't see how she has done it, all she does is protrude her bulging, not to mention fake tities!!! &lt;br /&gt;you know blog, i just looked at britney spears from a different perspective after writing the above sentence... she is B S (bull shit)...you know britney spears...B S...get it hahahahahhahahha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh you think that's funny...how would you describe GurutheMan...G M?? which means general manager/general motors or general moron????&lt;br /&gt;hmmmm the last characterization seems more applicable and it suits more!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now laugh...hahahahahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8539113?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8539113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8539113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8539113' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8530039</id><published>2002-01-08T23:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T09:48:36.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i would like to take few days off from life...when will i be able to??? &lt;br /&gt;the CEO never looks and approves my "leave of absence"....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8530039?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8530039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8530039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8530039' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8529884</id><published>2002-01-08T23:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T09:48:16.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the most unfair thing about life is the way it ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to me that is the most fair thing about life. its fair because without an end the beginning of life will have no meaning. without end, we wouldn't try to be better and accomplish or goals, without an end...trust me life will be quite boring. we need to make room for the forthcoming lives, so its fair to have an end...without an end, how will we stop lasting and start living in memories, how will we fulfill the circle????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8529884?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8529884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8529884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8529884' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8528289</id><published>2002-01-08T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T09:47:39.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don’t know what to write…absolutely out of topic. Empty sack of stories…nothing there…nada.&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok are you done with elaborating, I get the point  zeezzzzzz..&lt;br /&gt;I have become very lazy lately…I don’t even feel like sending email to anybody, not to mention couple of the emails I really should send out, well first of all I need to be connected with the net, but the stupid dial up is gifting me with its “unable to connect” message…it has be 15 minutes now all ready…&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so back to me being lazzzzyyyyy&lt;br /&gt;I am just being lazy that’s all….i am sure everyone feels like this once in a full moon [oh thank god, it finally connected..thank youuuuuuuuuuu]&lt;br /&gt;Ok so I need a decent job in IT field by the end of this semester&lt;br /&gt;Today I got two emails with the subject “your resume”….oh they made me so excited and then I read the emails…..hmmmmmm nothing exciting there…just two mass emails from two headhunters….&lt;br /&gt;Anyone out there who is willing to offer me &lt;html&gt;&lt;body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:gurutheman@hotmail.com"&gt;gurutheman@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/body&gt;&lt;/html&gt;&lt;br /&gt; a job…I am even willing to go to Afghanistan for the right job and kick some laden’s butt…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8528289?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8528289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8528289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8528289' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8514070</id><published>2002-01-08T12:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T09:47:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>if you were a river then i would be the moon in the sky, shadows of my moonlit would coalesce with your transparent water.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8514070?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8514070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8514070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8514070' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8513097</id><published>2002-01-08T12:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-08T12:01:35.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel haunted. There are no armed guards to my side, there are no handcuffs holding me. still I see myself in the dark cell, all alone. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8513097?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8513097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8513097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8513097' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8513069</id><published>2002-01-08T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-08T12:00:17.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i haven't seen the sun so bright in a while. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8513069?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8513069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8513069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8513069' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8488329</id><published>2002-01-07T13:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-07T13:32:51.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fate has taken me to a place where tears don't vaporize anymore, they remain as witnesses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8488329?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8488329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8488329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8488329' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8484565</id><published>2002-01-07T10:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-07T11:19:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i bring the question to the ancient tree&lt;br /&gt;"tell me tree, how should take my steps in this cruel family of life?&lt;br /&gt;you have seen so many family of life."&lt;br /&gt;tree answers, "compassion is life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coming near to an evergreen wild river, i utter my question, "tell me river how much have you seen about people's daily life, you have seen many crumbling societies."&lt;br /&gt;with a mild smile, the replies, "suffering is the other name of daily life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i move on to a secluded mountain, "you are the witness of many forgone centuries, tell me, to survive in this harsh world, how should i take my trembling steps?"&lt;br /&gt;the mountain remains numb, it just shows me its secluded life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lastly i take a baby in my lap, "how much have you seen of this life, where have you taken lesson about life?"&lt;br /&gt;with a cute glittering smile, the baby replies,"let us play a game, just you and me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8484565?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8484565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8484565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8484565' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8482545</id><published>2002-01-07T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-07T09:26:05.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when there is a storm in the sea the shore breaks apart, easy to notice its destruction...when there is storm in the mind, the heart breaks apart, no way to notice its destruction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8482545?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8482545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8482545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8482545' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8470983</id><published>2002-01-06T22:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T22:04:30.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>even your seductive smile couldn't distract me from holding the rain drops on my palms. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8470983?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8470983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8470983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8470983' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8463288</id><published>2002-01-06T16:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T16:37:07.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i can hear your staggering footsteps coming toward me creating a distinctive melody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8463288?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8463288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8463288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8463288' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8460420</id><published>2002-01-06T14:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T14:26:48.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>time has spoken. it has summoned me....i gotta go to the deep horizon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8460420?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8460420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8460420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8460420' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8458552</id><published>2002-01-06T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T12:54:22.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>really simple philosophy about existence of God:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Nothing can move itself. &lt;br /&gt;2) If every object in motion had a mover, then the first object in motion needed a mover. &lt;br /&gt;3) This first mover is the Unmoved Mover, called God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------St. Thomas Aquinas (1224-1274)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can it be this simple??????????????????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8458552?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8458552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8458552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8458552' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8458304</id><published>2002-01-06T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T12:41:00.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"One desire-less formless nameless&lt;br /&gt;Unborn, existence-knowledge-bliss absolute&lt;br /&gt;That Supreme is manifested in the Universe form&lt;br /&gt;Pervading all, every deed He performs"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above verse from Shri RamCharitManas transcends all barriers imposed by society and various religions about the concept of God. The root cause or the source of all creation is verily One. That Absolute Self or God is not only One but also pervades in all that there is. By understanding and living this ideal, we can feel a total sense of belonging to the entire universe. The idea of love expanding into compassion, brotherhood, harmony and peace springs naturally. Isn't being a human and humanity all about this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8458304?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8458304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8458304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8458304' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8455393</id><published>2002-01-06T09:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-06T09:27:23.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>if i had my life to live over, i'd try to make more mistakes next time. i would relax, i would limber up, i would be crazier than i've been on this trip. i know very few things i'd take seriously any more. i'd certainly be less hygenic... i would take more chances, i would take more trips, i would scale more mountains, i would swim more rivers, and i would watch more sunsets. i would eat more icecream and fewer beans. i would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones. oh, i've had my moments, and if i had to do it all over again, i'd have many more of them, in fact i'd try not to have anything else, just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of my day. if i had it to do all over again, i'd travle lighter, much lighter than i have. i would start barefoot earlier in the spring, and i'd stay that way later in the fall. and i would ride more merry-go-rounds, and catch more gold rings, and greet more people and pick more flowers and dance more often. if i had it to do all over again - but you see, i don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Jorge Luis Borges &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8455393?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8455393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8455393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2002_01_06_archive.html#8455393' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8431598</id><published>2002-01-05T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-05T10:16:44.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>every unsuccessful step gives me more dignity.&lt;br /&gt; i grow a tad bit in height as a human. &lt;br /&gt;determination scatters from my tip of hair to the tip of toe. &lt;br /&gt;i become distinct from everyone else and walk down through an unfamiliar road. &lt;br /&gt;i buy a cokie for the street dog, offer drinks to the taxi driver. the white stick of blind person become an obstacle on my way.&lt;br /&gt; my palms hold adequate compassion, if someone rejects me, i feel like this world is my close friend. &lt;br /&gt;i wear fresh washed clothes and touch my just shaved cheeks in a concealed manner.&lt;br /&gt;now i am a fully grown man&lt;br /&gt;my body is no longer squalid.&lt;br /&gt;pride's glowing circle&lt;br /&gt;circles on top my head.&lt;br /&gt;suffering brings smile on my lips&lt;br /&gt;i take my next step in such a way as i don't want to hurt the earth&lt;br /&gt;i have no reason to hurt anyone&lt;br /&gt;just constant monotonous moving forward....one step...two steps..three.....steps..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8431598?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8431598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8431598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8431598' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8424094</id><published>2002-01-05T00:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-05T00:11:17.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;html&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;IMG SRC="http://lynx.dac.neu.edu/t/tjafor/ZAI10.JPG" WIDTH=750 HEIGHT=350&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what i go through every single day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/body&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/html&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8424094?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8424094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8424094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8424094' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8421518</id><published>2002-01-04T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-04T22:17:14.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i think in addition to wishful thought, we also like to imagine/have a wishful past as well. The past that never actually occurred, the past that we are not proud of, the past that we want to forget, the past that we don’t want to carry in our neurons. And it comes from a certain guilty feeling, a guilty feeling about the past….&lt;br /&gt;Its never good to know the future…let it a happy one or a bad one. We should be happy with the present but most of us are unable to do that…two foot in two different boats and worse part is the boats are heading in different opposite directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I writing this???  &lt;br /&gt;I have no intention to know the future and I didn’t have a horrible past…I miss my past, I wish I could go back…. My past, my old me……. (am I self centered? I am always writing about “my self,” “me” and what not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8421518?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8421518' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8421351</id><published>2002-01-04T22:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-04T22:10:03.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you are not properly dressed until you have a smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8421351?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8421351' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8421242</id><published>2002-01-04T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-04T22:05:13.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i still believe in you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8421242?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8421242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8421242' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8393548</id><published>2002-01-03T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-03T23:05:42.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i apologize for being so harsh...i don't want to imply my faith was conditional...i don't want to show my faith to expect something in return...i want to show my faith for faith itself and i have faith in you...&lt;br /&gt;but you still didn't answer me...you violated your own rule your own motto....&lt;br /&gt;i am really sad..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8393548?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8393548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8393548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8393548' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8393172</id><published>2002-01-03T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-03T22:51:47.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well showed....well done and well played.&lt;br /&gt;i gave up all the possibilities for you. i trusted you, i revealed my faith toward you, i even opened up. and this is the return i get!!&lt;br /&gt;you really cracked me up.... you are supposed to be the greatest...i don't know why...i don't even know why you said what you said...&lt;br /&gt;you proved again understanding/knowledge/religion is so illusive, trustworthy people are so damn selfish and this freaking whole fucking world&lt;br /&gt;if you were in front of me, i would look straight at your eyes and ask you, "when did you learn to shatter hopes?" &lt;br /&gt;thank you for being such a jerk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8393172?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8393172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8393172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8393172' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8374182</id><published>2002-01-03T10:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-03T10:17:49.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i don't recall the whole song now...but there was a line &lt;br /&gt;"close your eyes and try to see."&lt;br /&gt;.......such a strong line..so meaningful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8374182?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8374182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8374182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8374182' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8373552</id><published>2002-01-03T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-03T09:33:32.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When a disaster occurs, we, human seem to flee for our own lives, why do we do that? &lt;br /&gt;I think nature loves its each own individual creation and it doesn’t want its creation to be extinct all of a sudden. So that’s why it put some kind of coding in our DNA system that makes us run for our lives rather than saving each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I am fleeing from my own self…..i wasn’t like this…myself and me..we are meant to be in a robust vinculum…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8373552?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8373552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8373552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8373552' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8362088</id><published>2002-01-02T22:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-02T22:20:45.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i haven't been so depressed in years. i don't even know what is the center of this depression..maybe its the novel i just finished reading&lt;br /&gt;maybe its just me....&lt;br /&gt;cloud said, "will cry, will go away"....what a sweet title...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8362088?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8362088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8362088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8362088' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8350415</id><published>2002-01-02T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-02T14:52:35.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nature will not neglect love's blessed tear drops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8350415?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8350415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8350415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8350415' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8343395</id><published>2002-01-02T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-02T09:35:36.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon.  I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up &lt;br /&gt;into the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow. I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name; and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being."----Tagore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;what wall am i building? to hide myself from others or to hide others from myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8343395?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8343395' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8343345</id><published>2002-01-02T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-02T09:33:02.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world,&lt;br /&gt;" I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the loveof man."---Tagore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8343345?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8343345' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3111192.post-8343146</id><published>2002-01-02T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-02T09:24:13.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>one night a man was driving back to his home. while he was stuck in traffic jam, a begger came and asked for some money. the man asked him, "do you drink?"&lt;br /&gt;"no sir."&lt;br /&gt;"do you smoke?"&lt;br /&gt;"no sir."&lt;br /&gt;"do you gamble?"&lt;br /&gt;"no sir."&lt;br /&gt;"then hop in quickly in my car."&lt;br /&gt;"no sir, whatever you like to give, give it here please."&lt;br /&gt;"i want to take you home and proof to my wife that what will happen to someone who doesn't drink, smoke or gamble."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3111192-8343146?l=palpable.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3111192/posts/default/8343146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palpable.blogspot.com/2001_12_30_archive.html#8343146' title=''/><author><name>Guru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17952177652163375399</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></entry></feed>
