<?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-1141625327131390677</id><updated>2011-11-19T04:27:17.189-08:00</updated><category term='marathon'/><category term='running'/><category term='half'/><category term='2011'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='eden'/><category term='squirrel moving settling new year goals'/><category term='two oceans'/><category term='medal'/><category term='weird'/><category term='nature'/><category term='violence history conspiracy witch hunts Roman gladiators blood lust'/><category term='journey'/><category term='human'/><category term='cape town'/><title type='text'>It's my life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-1514502494895221310</id><published>2011-05-08T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T09:25:24.284-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='two oceans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2011'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='medal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cape town'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='half'/><title type='text'>Marathon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's been once again a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ridiculously&lt;/span&gt; long period since my last post... I know I keep saying this but I really think I shall make more of an effort in future to jot down my random thoughts in passing before I let a year go by once again. Miss me? ha ha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I recently ran the Two Oceans half Marathon (21,something kilometers) and the whole experience of my first race got me thinking once again about the absurdity of humans...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What other animal would make a journey of that length (I say this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;relatively&lt;/span&gt; because I have no doubt many animals travel broader distances, but I'm speaking in terms of human physical travel) for the simple fun of it. That's it. Wildebeest and Zebra partake in Miles and miles of travel each year to reach better grazing ground, but to run a huge distance for the sake of running (and to perhaps tell other human beings how far you have run) seems silly from an outside perspective. The things humans do to keep themselves occupied...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;That's just the surface value. What was my experience of the race itself? I was haphazardly shoved &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;in between&lt;/span&gt; some eleven thousand people at 06:00 in the morning (still dark), I could not see much (being a head shorter than the rest of my fellow runners, but I still felt this sense of anticipation and excitement. My heart beat faster then than it had perhaps the entire race thereafter. We sang the National Anthem and then the cannon sounded. Ready to run! Not really... I only actually &lt;em&gt;ran&lt;/em&gt; about 5 minutes into the race. I only &lt;em&gt;crossed&lt;/em&gt; the starting line 5 minutes into the race... we left the excitement of the pumping music and the cheering crowds &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;behind&lt;/span&gt; us and a weird silence engulfed us. it was not a deathly silence, it was the silence of the hum created by eleven thousand pairs of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tekkied&lt;/span&gt;-feet pounding the road. the grunts and pants of fellow runners striving to keep up with the crowd. here and there a joke flies out from somewhere and you giggle from the randomness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's been a while... let me check my Garmin and see how far I've come... What?! 672 meters?! How can that be possible! Got to speed it up a little... I wont make my time... there are people everywhere and there is no where to pass... you are held back by the slow people around you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The breathing is getting heavier, the sky lighter, and I feel pretty good. Its been about 10 kilometers and you know that you still have some way to go so you reserve your energy for the hills. You want some water, but there are such crowds around the watering posts that you'd rather leave it. can't stop running now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Completely lost. I live here and I don't know where I am. This is good. The scenery is beautiful and the fact that I've never seen it before distracts my brain temporarily from thinking about how tired my legs are. The people around me are quiet now. No more jokes are being passed about flippatly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;4 kilometers to go. I know now where I am. I jog here often and this is very discouraging! I know how far it is to go and more importantly, I know how far it feels! Far from being finished! Won't it end already? I'm not exactly tired... I mean my legs are starting to strain, but they're not painful and I'm not breathing heavy. 4 kilometers...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is about 1 kilometer to go, I am running as fast as I can but I cannot estimate just how fast that is because I don't really care. I just want to be done now. I'm like a horse, who after a tiring workout knows that it's home-time and I'm getting there as quickly as I can with what energy I have left... I'm waiting for the screams of "Go Eden!" or "You've done it, Eden!" but either I can't hear them or they're not coming... I'm on the grass, the final stretch! I race to the end line... or what I think is the end line - only to see that it is a little further on... on my last legs, my waning energy, I pass at least two other people raising my arms in glorification for the photographer that I see, unable to smile... did he get that? I'll only know a little later I guess. But this is it! Jarringly I stop running - for the first time in two hours and thirty-one minutes and my legs feel fuzzy. I'm numb and it feels weird to walk, but the cold steel of the medal in my hand makes me feel glad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;That's after all why humans run so pointlessly isn't it? for a shiny cold piece of metal on a ribbon...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-1514502494895221310?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/1514502494895221310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=1514502494895221310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1514502494895221310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1514502494895221310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2011/05/marathon.html' title='Marathon'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-6940169248612560293</id><published>2010-02-13T04:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T04:58:09.688-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='violence history conspiracy witch hunts Roman gladiators blood lust'/><title type='text'>A history of violence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/S3aeYoyjFjI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/QQbZb7q58ck/s1600-h/burning_witch%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437707746199934514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 369px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/S3aeYoyjFjI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/QQbZb7q58ck/s400/burning_witch%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Of all the natural wonders of the world, the magic of a growing seed, the secret transformations within a pupa, the smartest advances in animal intellect, I find the human race is by far the most perplexing. Age after age seems to pass, and although we modernise our habitats and quality of living, we seem to do little to change our habits and responses to certain people and situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the early middle ages. Various people are being tortured and burned for practicing 'witchcraft', people which today would be known as mathematicians... scientists... People who could research into alternate points of views, swim upstream and could find different ways of doing the ordinary were persecuted, banished. People who thought outside of the box were considered demons, laughed at for their attempts to create light, to capture images, to fly... Today all these people have made huge contributions to how we percieve the world. A world full of technology, fast-paced and loud, even if perhaps a bit intoxicated with poisons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can look back and laugh at the foolishness of these people who burned what they feared, and mocked what they did not understand. Has it really changed? We can look to movements of 'equality' and 'freedom of speech' but in my opinion ffom observation, humans don't take likely to 'difference'. Change seems like the enemy, and in an ever changing world, it is a bad enemy to have. Many conspiracy theorists have presented alternate views on the world (a very likely occurence as all humans are entitled to their own opinions) and in a similar stance to witch-burning are accused of lunacy. Take the 9/11 conspiracy for example: Here are people (with some viable evidence for what they claim ) that are shunned for what they question. The presentation of a different view is at times threatening to another human as it challenges their state of consciousness. This, I think, causes the animal-like behaviour of aggression to dominate the challenger and to bite them down. Why else are these conspiracy theorists so brutaly handled?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a slightly different note, this leads me to violence as presented in the media. People are so easily offended and like to pretend that their sophisticated ways call for less violence in the media, and although I do not necessarily agree with it, I accept it as not only part of our violent world, but as part of an even more violent and lustful history. In the Roman empire Coliseums were arenas of death to entertain the emperor. Gladiators, ravanous wild beasts and sometimes even random spectators were tossed into a cocktail of gore for the pleasure of thousands of onlookers. Various torture methods (among which the mildest were beatings) were fit punishments to sinners, handed out readily by (obviously sadistic) executors. With our past written in blood it is hard to think of people as pure and non-violent creatures in ourselves and once again, an animal blood-lust lies within our race. Why then, do we find our violent Television programs so offensive? Why was heavy metal and violent programming to blame at Columbine's shoot-out? Is it not perhaps our simple nature? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, those are my random ponderings of humanity for today and with that, I will leave you to contemplate our existance for yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-6940169248612560293?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/6940169248612560293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=6940169248612560293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/6940169248612560293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/6940169248612560293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2010/02/history-of-violence.html' title='A history of violence'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/S3aeYoyjFjI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/QQbZb7q58ck/s72-c/burning_witch%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-5860201317038200397</id><published>2009-09-27T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T08:59:20.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dominance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Sr-LXpDcGLI/AAAAAAAAAIo/zv5-xdJMfZ8/s1600-h/dominance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386176917631932594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Sr-LXpDcGLI/AAAAAAAAAIo/zv5-xdJMfZ8/s400/dominance.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dominance. This word is reminiscent of those nature documentaries one watches lazily on a Sunday Afternoon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dogs for instance, show their dominance to one another by making sure their heads are higher than their opponents. I remember this from my childhood observations when our small, mix-breed bitch would use our Labrador bitch as a stand post on which she lent to display her dominance. Of course, the Labrador was not fond of this treatment and responded by body-slamming her down WWE style, thereby showing her whose "Boss". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What gets to me though, is that people scuff and dismiss this as prime and instinctive animal behaviour. i.e. this is not what us &lt;em&gt;civilized &lt;/em&gt;people do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Whilst going for a drive the other day, we noticed houses build all the way up the slope of a mountain. Curiously, we wondered how on earth those people got to their houses, and proceeded to drive up that way to investigate. After criss-crossing our winding path up to the houses (or rather, mansions) we eventually got to the top. Beautiful and expensive-looking as the houses were, we both had to ask, was it all worth it when it was such a belated mission to reach home?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Why were the houses right at the top more expensive and more wealthily looked after than the houses that were only slightly less escalated? One of the answers I could come to: Dominance. This I suppose, is the &lt;em&gt;civilised &lt;/em&gt;method of 'dominance'. It boosts the esteem of people to know that their 'heads' are highest above all, to know that there's no one above them, that they are in fact the highest they can get. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just a thought... Just pondering about the strangeness of mankind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-5860201317038200397?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/5860201317038200397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=5860201317038200397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5860201317038200397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5860201317038200397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2009/09/dominance.html' title='Dominance'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Sr-LXpDcGLI/AAAAAAAAAIo/zv5-xdJMfZ8/s72-c/dominance.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-744226208534261515</id><published>2009-08-20T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T12:22:26.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life this Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/So2iW2yRyAI/AAAAAAAAAIg/maKU8X1bLyc/s1600-h/A_slice_of_life_by_gilad%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372128444070086658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/So2iW2yRyAI/AAAAAAAAAIg/maKU8X1bLyc/s400/A_slice_of_life_by_gilad%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wow! It certainly has been a while since I've last posted. This is probably inexcusable on my behalf, but I will try to justify it nonetheless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Since My last post, I have started the life of a student, which is altogether a new and different experience. Apart from knowing&lt;em&gt; absolutely&lt;/em&gt; no one (since it is a new Town I moved to), there was a flurry of colour I am unused to (for one having occupied dryer regions of South Africa and attending a school with uniform) and a frenzy of others just as confused and unfamiliar as I was. It was exciting, but nerve wrecking as well, and before long, I realized what I had had in friendship back home, and longed to have it back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I soon managed to adjust however, and new friends came, new opportunities, and ultimately a new me developed. Independence took its natural course and shifted to its rightful place as instinct. Its strange to me how people are capable of adapting to their situation, and wonderful. How, lost and confused, they can soon find their wings and soar. The town I now live in is the most beautiful I have ever seen, and has a piece of everything to offer: From mountains, to ocean, to forest and sun. In spring when the flowers bloom there is the most exquisite display of colours so bright! I find the quote by Lester Burnham in the 1999 film, &lt;em&gt;American Beauty&lt;/em&gt; sums up my feelings and experiences of life quite accurately,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life...&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Many things have changed, but I feel my life surging forward like the waves of the sea, and its leading me to exciting places and possibilities that I never dreamed possible. Where I am, right now, is where I feel I aught to be, and I feel that this year has been one of constant mobility and development, springing forth towards who I can and want to become. And in all this, I wasn't completely left in solitude. Without this, I don't think I would have gotten half as far as I have. I'm overjoyed that I could share my experiences, joys and fears with another...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until my next post, (which I promise, will not be seven months later this time)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Keep breathing, stop and listen, and enjoy Life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Picture from: &lt;a href="http://gilad.deviantart.com/art/A-slice-of-life-64298703"&gt;http://gilad.deviantart.com/art/A-slice-of-life-64298703&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-744226208534261515?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/744226208534261515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=744226208534261515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/744226208534261515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/744226208534261515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-life-this-year.html' title='My Life this Year'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/So2iW2yRyAI/AAAAAAAAAIg/maKU8X1bLyc/s72-c/A_slice_of_life_by_gilad%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-3932332211011274135</id><published>2009-01-26T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T13:25:26.974-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='squirrel moving settling new year goals'/><title type='text'>A New Year; a new lifestyle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SX4nT7vyrtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ydzqjtb-_0M/s1600-h/2344898196_3c554b7b2c%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295713435243425490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 354px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SX4nT7vyrtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ydzqjtb-_0M/s400/2344898196_3c554b7b2c%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, well, well... We all well into a new year, Chinese included and I must say that it's been a very busy one so far! What with all the piles of boxes and furniture we had to labor 1000 kilometers, squeeze through the door and unpack its been exhausting really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I like to think of us as squirrels, gathering nuts like maniacs to prepare for the battle of an upcoming winter. Yet now I think we can begin to settle, start getting back our shapes, further our educations, live off a healthy diet and generally upgrade our lives. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I have many plans and goals for the new year, most of which are not so much goals as maintenance. To push myself to my limits, and try to be as overall as I can. I also want to start painting again. My soul thirsts for a blank canvas and the smoothness of a brush between my fingers, but all in good time. First, I must sculpt my body and then I think all else will fall into place as it should be. My stress relieved, my body tired and yet burning with a passionate flame, and the will of a war horse to prance fiercely into the new battle; the challenge of change...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Image found at: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.feverishthoughts.com/2008/05/21/two-squirrels-sitting-in-a-tree/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://www.feverishthoughts.com/2008/05/21/two-squirrels-sitting-in-a-tree/&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-3932332211011274135?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/3932332211011274135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=3932332211011274135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3932332211011274135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3932332211011274135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-lifestyle.html' title='A New Year; a new lifestyle'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SX4nT7vyrtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ydzqjtb-_0M/s72-c/2344898196_3c554b7b2c%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-3889001479906420520</id><published>2008-11-08T02:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T03:16:46.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May It Be</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SRV03VLxRiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Bo1aiK3x7dE/s1600-h/IMG_4335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266243833207801378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SRV03VLxRiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Bo1aiK3x7dE/s400/IMG_4335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ah! November... its funny how a year can sit still and quiet upon a rock, sunbathing and at the strangest of times, take flight like a seabird. Yes, my mind is already at the seaside as I sit day dreaming at my desk, the open textbook beyond my vision, waiting patiently for my attention. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My final Matric exams are underway, and I can only wonder through them, lost at sea until the day comes when I spot an island of comfort. It is a strange feeling though, this leaving business. One I cannot fully comprehend or yet come to any direct terms. I feel the excitement, splendor, jubilation of the first toddling steps of my future and career beginning, and yet, left on the shores of childhood so many friends and family that watch me take off with... how did Shakespeare put it? "&lt;em&gt;drowning an eye, unused to flow." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But change is an inevitable factor within the lives of individuals. Some for the worse, others for the better, but I plan on making the most of my ever changing livelihood, ans as for so far the changes have brought me all the more joy, and I plan to keep it that way. For now I must sit though, in the dusty exam room, watching the hours tick by, the low scribble of light pens dancing frantically on their pages, filling out inevitable futures that I can wonder further, deeper perhaps than my minds knowledge and find wisdom there? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;May it be an evening star shines down upon your papers, fellow matrics,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;and May it be you journey on into your futures, to light the day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Have a smashing matric rage! ;P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;~Eden~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-3889001479906420520?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/3889001479906420520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=3889001479906420520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3889001479906420520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3889001479906420520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/11/may-it-be.html' title='May It Be'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SRV03VLxRiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Bo1aiK3x7dE/s72-c/IMG_4335.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-5645271732444770225</id><published>2008-08-04T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T14:14:42.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fulfillment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SJdvq6NIQuI/AAAAAAAAAFM/y2RofIvQVHo/s1600-h/happiness.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230772275183633122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SJdvq6NIQuI/AAAAAAAAAFM/y2RofIvQVHo/s400/happiness.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today, I can honestly say that I've had a good day's work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Thinking of my last blogging, I can honestly say that all the needs on my hierarchy are met and I am content with my life. The only really pressing thing on my mind is that my gym card has expired and I am in need of a good work out!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I managed good results for last term and all went well. Now the pressure is on to just keep it up. But through my happiness and contentment, I am confident that I can tackle any challenge that surfaces, or at least most. oh, beautiful life and all its intricate complexities. How beautiful it is to experience it to its fullest and to highest fulfillment. Sweet, wonderful pleasures!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm done Hippie-ing now... ha ha! just thought I'd drop by with a post to say that my hierarchy for this time is complete. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Take care!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eden&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Picture from: flickr.com&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-5645271732444770225?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/5645271732444770225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=5645271732444770225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5645271732444770225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5645271732444770225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/08/fulfillment.html' title='fulfillment'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SJdvq6NIQuI/AAAAAAAAAFM/y2RofIvQVHo/s72-c/happiness.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-3637198462181176089</id><published>2008-06-19T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T00:41:24.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SFoLcDHJ-qI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VPgNtpuXJOg/s1600-h/800px-Maslow%2527s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213492095134333602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SFoLcDHJ-qI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VPgNtpuXJOg/s400/800px-Maslow%2527s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg%5B1%5D.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's been a while I guess... In fact almost two months have passed and I am absolutely exhausted by the fast paced life I've been forced to lead. Constant school work with no tourniquet to its ceaseless flow and then the gyming in between which I can't complain about. Sculpting my body and exhausting every inch of my being physically is a pass time I have become almost addicted to. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Now, after four weeks of exams, tomorrow is finally the final curtain and I can only imagine the feeling of relief and almost confusion of release and freedom that will overcome me. It's been a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And now, having poured over Maslow's hierarchy of basic needs, I feel that most of my primary needs are met, most anyways :P, I now feel the need in the esteem department, and to get the results I have worked hard for this term. Seeings though I won't have the full fulfillment of that until next term, I believe that it is now time to fulfill the needs that I seem to miss on this scale... excitement, rest, adventure and escape! probably falls under the purple category, but anyways, Tomorrow I shall set myself off into a new day of hope and release!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hope all out there have the same sensations and the best holiday ever! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;~all from me for now~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eden&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Maslow's hierarchy was found at: "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-3637198462181176089?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/3637198462181176089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=3637198462181176089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3637198462181176089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3637198462181176089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-been-while-i-guess.html' title=''/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SFoLcDHJ-qI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VPgNtpuXJOg/s72-c/800px-Maslow%2527s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg%5B1%5D.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-4812074214547641884</id><published>2008-04-20T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T10:02:38.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Published</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SAt1-Y-52aI/AAAAAAAAAEk/xfS3i0E1Nys/s1600-h/Terry+Fails+Cover+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191372710193256866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SAt1-Y-52aI/AAAAAAAAAEk/xfS3i0E1Nys/s400/Terry+Fails+Cover+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Second dream underway in what feels in some ways like no time at all and in some ways, like an eternity of wait. I'm not even sure its sunk in properly yet, that I am an author. It's an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;overwhelming&lt;/span&gt; feeling to know that you've now done what you dreamed of as a child, what you've always aspired to. All it takes is a bit of hard work, planning, dedication and determination. One should never give up on what you wish to do with yourself. I never intended to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings" - Salvador Dali&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Let me set the next challenge to flight!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-4812074214547641884?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/4812074214547641884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=4812074214547641884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/4812074214547641884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/4812074214547641884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/04/published.html' title='Published'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/SAt1-Y-52aI/AAAAAAAAAEk/xfS3i0E1Nys/s72-c/Terry+Fails+Cover+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-5463076412883083823</id><published>2008-03-10T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T06:22:02.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The nature of people</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R9U1zhQB72I/AAAAAAAAAEc/x0Z8XXXQsMQ/s1600-h/big-smile%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176102505947459426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R9U1zhQB72I/AAAAAAAAAEc/x0Z8XXXQsMQ/s400/big-smile%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's been a while since I've posted, and the reason for my absence has been none other than the strain of hard schoolwork in my matric year hanging over my back. Luckily, It is now exam time and I have never in my life been so happy to enter a full three weeks of exam. It may mean studying but that is nothing compared to the work load that it takes off all of our shoulders.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have come to experience over the past months some moments that I have only ever seen in movies. So much so that I could not believe the situations in which I landed myself and yet, I laugh to myself, that movies, (well, some anyways) are based on people, and their emotions and real events. So technically, the movie moments that are based on supposed yet unlikely reality, has been my life for a while now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But on the subject of people, I find them incresingly strange beings in behaviour. I know that one cannot justly compare people with animals, but we all possess the same qualities and organs that make us living breathing creatures and I like to look at our behaviour compared to that of other living mammals. How humans can fake emotion, Smile when they don't really mean it, laugh when they don't find something funny and the fact that we possess the intelligence that allow us to pick up subtle changes in body language and tone and know that its fake. Yet we still do it, despite the fact that we know others know we faking it. I've never seen a dog wag its tail when it wasn't happy to be accepted into another dogs pack. or a horse arch with pride when it wasn't happy. Humans truly are stange beings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eden &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-5463076412883083823?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/5463076412883083823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=5463076412883083823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5463076412883083823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5463076412883083823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/03/nature-of-people.html' title='The nature of people'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R9U1zhQB72I/AAAAAAAAAEc/x0Z8XXXQsMQ/s72-c/big-smile%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-7211963116241414125</id><published>2008-01-24T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T07:24:58.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To somehow find that you can come to terms with yourself and in general the way you are is an extravagant thing. How influential you come across as to others depends not on how blatantly military you are, but how subtly you can change the minds and opinions of others.  Not that having to change minds matters much, because everybody has his or her own views on how life should run and according to their circumstances, everyone have their own stories and views. History makes us. We live according to experiences in life and what we have learned so far. One can also simply benefit from watching the paths taken by those around you and following along in a parallel path but one not quite the same, may learn by others' mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-7211963116241414125?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/7211963116241414125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=7211963116241414125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7211963116241414125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7211963116241414125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2008/01/learning.html' title='Learning'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-5619378891614271230</id><published>2007-11-22T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T10:05:03.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R0XETEA3H-I/AAAAAAAAAD0/lDilq4cIVGM/s1600-h/love_hurts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135726781859831778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R0XETEA3H-I/AAAAAAAAAD0/lDilq4cIVGM/s400/love_hurts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I find that at times the emotional state of human beings can be quite so complex that we ourselves are puzzeled over how we experiance our emotions. At the end of it all, we can know almost everything there is to know about our physical selves but never come to terms with how we truly feel inside. And often, and far too often in fact, we as people are too ashamed and scared to admit to our same species and at times even to ourselves what we do feel. I find it perplexing for example why someone cannot admit to jealousy. It is after all only a human emotion and when it does strike someone, it is only a natural reaction, as is surprise and happiness is to other events. Jealousy may prove that you care or love enough to feel that strongly about a person or passion. Greed I believe is different though. It is a selfish emotion that claims possesssion and want for things that probably do not matter, and why want more with the thought that there are those for mere want of survival in the world?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yes, the species we are are tormentingly contradicting and almost altogether uncanny in our behaviour. In just a look of vibe, we are able to come to full understanding of a situation and in that same instant we can chose to make or break it. How we can dismiss the feelings of others and ignore them, pretending to not understand and claiming to not have known. How complex and painful being what we are can become, when none, not even yourself can overcome the turmoil that is yours and others' inner beings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The fact that people have developed the narrow state of mind that they can judge a person according to what their outside appearence says, the way they dress, the way they talk, and even the attitudes. No one ever bothers to consider what that person has been through or ever try to understand others. They never want the time to find the unusaul and often wonderful inner person that they may learn to love despite what they give off. But I suppose that is the nature of people and perhaps I am wrong, and my perception of life is just corrupted. You can decide for yourdelf. Afterall, you are your own person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The image above can be found at: &lt;a href="http://www.mobilepark.eu/wallpapers/240x320/Love/"&gt;http://www.mobilepark.eu/wallpapers/240x320/Love/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-5619378891614271230?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/5619378891614271230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=5619378891614271230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5619378891614271230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5619378891614271230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/11/emotions.html' title='Emotions'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/R0XETEA3H-I/AAAAAAAAAD0/lDilq4cIVGM/s72-c/love_hurts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-4933847545826993312</id><published>2007-11-13T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T09:12:57.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams don't come easy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6f6894c28b71ca15" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6f6894c28b71ca15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331537997%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D29A832087622F148D0168D2997E15052FE9D95FB.780CFD8F4EAFE72D0E6624D00295680289F9DCE8%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6f6894c28b71ca15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoEASmXUmyxz_YTGZMjt03KeBgzo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6f6894c28b71ca15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331537997%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D29A832087622F148D0168D2997E15052FE9D95FB.780CFD8F4EAFE72D0E6624D00295680289F9DCE8%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6f6894c28b71ca15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoEASmXUmyxz_YTGZMjt03KeBgzo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;It is not perhaps, the easiest thing in the world to put ones dreams into action But just the other day, I kick-started one of mine and put it to flight!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;One cannot simply expect your dream to appear to you like magic, for one must strive and long to have it, and with hard work, effort and extra time and energy and determination never to give in, no matter what comes your way, you will achieve it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dream #1: Accomplished&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Skydive (",)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-4933847545826993312?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6f6894c28b71ca15&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/4933847545826993312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=4933847545826993312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/4933847545826993312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/4933847545826993312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/11/dreams-dont-come-easy.html' title='Dreams don&apos;t come easy'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-7042984160715503882</id><published>2007-09-26T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T06:46:06.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about the money</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I find it pretty strange how mankind functions. We always want something in return for another thing. We were talking today in a group about who was the first smart one to convince another smart one to take the pretty shiny piece of gold instead of bartering some real goods. What is money? You can't eat it. You can't wear it. It won't protect you against ill. It's nothing really, and yet it governs our lives. It controls us. What does it all boil down to in the end? In the end we are doing exactly what all the other creatures are doing. Surviving. The human species just has this tendency to over-do and over-complicate everything so vastly when actually that was not God's intention. We create so many problems for ourselves and cause ourselves so much unnecessary stress and pain and we forget to live. We all going the same way one day, so why do humans always have to over complicate their existence when really in relation to the rest of the universe and infinite time, we are a split-second, a microscopic entity in contrast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And then you get people that think that they know everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-7042984160715503882?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/7042984160715503882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=7042984160715503882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7042984160715503882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7042984160715503882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/09/all-about-money.html' title='All about the money'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-5650438035634310577</id><published>2007-07-08T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T09:38:35.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Important things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RpER-wW8FuI/AAAAAAAAADE/-xlz9WTBr9Q/s1600-h/Horse_Shadows_swoz_bgp[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084865224108676834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RpER-wW8FuI/AAAAAAAAADE/-xlz9WTBr9Q/s400/Horse_Shadows_swoz_bgp%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seem limitless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out. But it's more than that isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Stephen King, Different Seasons, Hodder Publishers, 1992, "The Body", Pg. 321&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;That piece by Stephen King really touched me the first time I read it, and the more I read it, the more aware I become of how complicated the human being can be and how cruel sometimes. How unaware and unattached most people are to their emotions and feelings. It saddens me to think how shallowly most people live their lives and how they don't seem to appreciate the simple pleasures and beauty in their lives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Image: &lt;a href="http://www.adamjahiel.com/LastCowboy_gall4.html"&gt;http://www.adamjahiel.com/LastCowboy_gall4.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-5650438035634310577?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/5650438035634310577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=5650438035634310577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5650438035634310577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/5650438035634310577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/07/important-things.html' title='Important things'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RpER-wW8FuI/AAAAAAAAADE/-xlz9WTBr9Q/s72-c/Horse_Shadows_swoz_bgp%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-7704337872127049753</id><published>2007-07-01T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T08:51:02.471-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>HolidayZ</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wow! and it's July already! Over halfway!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yeah... its now school holidays and we all free at last! Not me really though... I'm working as a waitress so that I can earn a few bucks. I want to go sky diving once I've made enough you see but I still don't know who I wanna share the experience with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The holiday so far has been great really. Just hanging out with my friends, a party or two. and working of course. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I also got a round to some writing that I'm doing on a book I'm writing. Its a fantasy, and it starts off comething like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Quieshith was a woman of fair and voluptuous manner. Her slim body, curving to the rhythm of sleepless waves upon an empty shore forsook her all but fragile nature. She was a woman who could go by many names; proud, attentive, eloquent, wise, determined, but you could never place her under such feeble categories as ignorant, gullible, frail and weak. Despite her dainty appearance, that would often times bring to mind a wilting flower, dying and vulnerable, Quieshith was not for the picking."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;well thats about all for now. Enjoy the holidays all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-7704337872127049753?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/7704337872127049753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=7704337872127049753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7704337872127049753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/7704337872127049753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/07/holidayz.html' title='HolidayZ'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-1724098786731295199</id><published>2007-05-14T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T12:17:18.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Rki1FGGpRBI/AAAAAAAAACE/Z85qMlbxnIc/s1600-h/road%20less%20traveled[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064496880120579090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Rki1FGGpRBI/AAAAAAAAACE/Z85qMlbxnIc/s200/road%2520less%2520traveled%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today at break time I decided to walk to perimeter of the school, following the road around the whole school alone. It was very good I felt to walk alone for a bit, get a chance to think things through. Wonder about life. I let my feet pace themselves, let them walk fast if they wanted to, stop if they needed, without instruction, without constrictions. I was my own person, boundless, going where I wanted to for the first time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The stretch of road span out before me making me visualise it as my life... the white lines directing me, flowing endlessly before me. I tripped over some stones in the way but for the most part, the significance of the walk was the best I could ever have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-1724098786731295199?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/1724098786731295199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=1724098786731295199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1724098786731295199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1724098786731295199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/05/walk.html' title='The Walk'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/Rki1FGGpRBI/AAAAAAAAACE/Z85qMlbxnIc/s72-c/road%2520less%2520traveled%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-1285675566868761600</id><published>2007-04-24T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T11:35:01.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Prophetic Dream"</title><content type='html'>I have really weird dreams sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamed that I was with a friend of mine, that was my friend in my dream, but that I had never actually met or even seen in my waking life. He was telling me about a "Prophetic Dream" he had had in which a creature with multiple heads and limbs came to him. I saw the silhouette of the creature, an almost comical outline of what seemed to be a mass of a creature made entirely out of limbs and heads. Heads mostly of lions and men, but there was a snake or two among them.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't scared of the creature and watched as it changed as it got friendlier into a more wholesome animal. I started to wonder within my dream of how strange my friend's dream had been and wondering what it could mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should lay off the coffee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind hearing about other strange dreams people have had. If your interested in sharing post a comment. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;Eden&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-1285675566868761600?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/1285675566868761600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=1285675566868761600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1285675566868761600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1285675566868761600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/04/prophetic-dream.html' title='&quot;Prophetic Dream&quot;'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-6152300604755989238</id><published>2007-03-28T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T10:27:56.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgqlfFtDldI/AAAAAAAAABo/3PchamNYom4/s1600-h/ocean-flowers[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047028285947745746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgqlfFtDldI/AAAAAAAAABo/3PchamNYom4/s320/ocean-flowers%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"It's a long walk back to Eden, sweetheart. Don't sweat the small stuff."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A quote by one of the characters in the Book &lt;em&gt;Insomnia&lt;/em&gt; by Stephen King. It's quite a quote to live by I think, If you think about how much time we actually spend complaining and moaning about such small pointless things that you actually look past the beauty of the world and fail to see any positive. In life we all go through times where secretly we don't feel like being comforted and we just need the human sympathy that we don't always get. The truth I think is that it really isn't a long walk back to "Eden" or paradise... It's everywhere you look if you bothered, you can feel it in the breeze, see it in the bright colours of Autumn leaves, smell it in the sweet air, hear it in the pure trickling of water, taste it in the fine fruits of the earth. If you only bothered to savour the moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;This picture was found on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://beautiful-island.50webs.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://beautiful-island.50webs.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-6152300604755989238?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/6152300604755989238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=6152300604755989238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/6152300604755989238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/6152300604755989238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-long-walk-back-to-eden-sweetheart.html' title=''/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgqlfFtDldI/AAAAAAAAABo/3PchamNYom4/s72-c/ocean-flowers%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-3291742124809850780</id><published>2007-03-24T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T09:34:44.743-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><title type='text'>Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgVRFNfFHII/AAAAAAAAABg/_qKOGzOTnYQ/s1600-h/Custer%20County%20Bucking%20Horse%20high%20resolution[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045528107499723906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgVRFNfFHII/AAAAAAAAABg/_qKOGzOTnYQ/s320/Custer%2520County%2520Bucking%2520Horse%2520high%2520resolution%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My journey through life so far has been one strange ride. Life in itself is like riding a wild horse, it tests you by jerking tentatively at the reins, it sometimes gives you a kick, at any time it can rear and throw you off, an unexpected buck can unnerve you but I suppose that's the nature of it. Its like an out ride on a horse that you sometimes cannot control, and one false move and send it bolting off into a direction you hadn't intended. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But life isn't always that bad. The ride can be fun too, if you'd laugh off the little jumps in the road, forgive the little mood swings of your steed and just generally learn how to ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;In my teenage life in particular, I have often felt like I myself am the horse. Like I'm the one that's bridled, having the cold, hard bit torn back in my tender mouth every time I try to get somewhere. like I'm having spurs dug into my sides cruelly, someone constantly on my back trying to control my every move when really I'm just rearing to go. Burning with the passion of youth I paw the ground in my frustration. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;But I guess that's how life is. I should be thankful. I know of those that have it much worse than I.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Eden&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-3291742124809850780?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/3291742124809850780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=3291742124809850780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3291742124809850780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/3291742124809850780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/03/journey.html' title='Journey'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5RgVRNB-o/RgVRFNfFHII/AAAAAAAAABg/_qKOGzOTnYQ/s72-c/Custer%2520County%2520Bucking%2520Horse%2520high%2520resolution%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1141625327131390677.post-1436462580668179354</id><published>2007-03-22T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T11:12:09.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;My name as you will see from my profile is Eden Theron and I am a 16 going on 17 girl. In this blog I shall post things that inspire me or make me feel a certain way, or just plain say what I want. so I start off by saying how happy and excited I am that school's out tomorrow and I have a nice long-ish holiday in front of me! Hope everyone else out there from South Africa enjoy their break as well.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheerio&lt;br /&gt;Eden&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1141625327131390677-1436462580668179354?l=edenstale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/feeds/1436462580668179354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1141625327131390677&amp;postID=1436462580668179354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1436462580668179354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1141625327131390677/posts/default/1436462580668179354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://edenstale.blogspot.com/2007/03/thursday.html' title='Thursday'/><author><name>Eden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03122622338944418534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt0xvWheDsM/TsegDbJwhjI/AAAAAAAAAME/xU00F3DSwXM/s220/facial%2B6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
