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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2009-11-21:/</id><title>good try??</title><link rel="self" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-21T17:26:46+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2008-02-04:/2008/02/04/so_i_ve_learnt~3676448/</id><title>So I've learnt</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2008/02/04/so_i_ve_learnt~3676448/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2008-02-04T07:47:53+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T07:47:53+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Tired, worn out,&lt;br&gt;
tired of listening&lt;br&gt;
and so i've learnt to sleep.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Coffee, coffee,&lt;br&gt;
drink to drunk,&lt;br&gt;
so i've learnt to live.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Wait till the sound is&lt;br&gt;
not an emotion anymore&lt;br&gt;
so i've learnt to cry.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I don't laugh coz i'm happy,&lt;br&gt;
I'm happy because i laugh&lt;br&gt;
and so i've learnt to smile.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2008/02/04/so_i_ve_learnt~3676448/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2007-08-27:/2007/08/27/i_feel_like_crying~2880225/</id><title>I FEEL LIKE CRYING</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/08/27/i_feel_like_crying~2880225/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2007-08-27T20:36:10+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T20:36:10+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;I’m feeling funny….&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Not really funny… different maybe. Different from the ‘me’ that I know.&lt;br&gt;
I feel like crying. Ands it’s the second time in 2 days. “Why…?” You may ask… I’ll tell you when I know. Right now, everything I am doing and thinking about is nice, yet I feel like crying. Now there is a pain I’m sure I don’t know off… It can’t be “THE CRY OF JOY”. Cause its painful. But I can’t think of anything that I’m sad about. I’m directing a play; I just finished Auditioning for it. So it can’t be out of a lack of activity. I’ve been meeting my friends quite often now. So, it’s not because I’m missing them. I’m happy and content in every which way, but I feel like crying. A painful crying. Last evening after meeting my friends and before I met them again a little while later…. I felt like crying. I wanted to be alone. Really alone. Blasted city has no place where I can be alone for a while…&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;And now that troubles me… Since when did I start to want to be alone…. I hate it. Like I said, I’m different from the ‘me’ that I know. I’ve been switching off very often nowadays. Not that I normally don’t, but this time it’s mostly conscious. I’ve always had this habit of very unconsciously switching off. And suddenly I resort to it, at every opportune moment. It’s like being addicted to switching off. This is not me.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I want to change&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I have to change &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Because…&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I have already changed.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;And I feel like crying.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/08/27/i_feel_like_crying~2880225/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2007-07-17:/2007/07/17/politically_correct_nursery_rhymes~2653990/</id><title>Politically correct nursery rhymes</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/07/17/politically_correct_nursery_rhymes~2653990/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2007-07-17T21:15:42+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T21:15:42+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Sometimes Boredom does stuff to you...&lt;br&gt;
Like makes  you write inane stuff. On one such occasion i like what i wrote though... A few altered nursery rhymes... I must be crazy to slaughter these innocent little things but i loved it.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Humpty Dumpty&lt;br&gt;
Sat on a wall,&lt;br&gt;
Humpty Dumpty&lt;br&gt;
Had a great fall;&lt;br&gt;
All the lawyers&lt;br&gt;
And all the cloaked men,&lt;br&gt;
Sued the damned&lt;br&gt;
Builders again&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,&lt;br&gt;
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.&lt;br&gt;
The news channels and sponsors soon heard the rumour&lt;br&gt;
Now it must be an Adidas, Reebok or a Puma.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Three blind mice, three blind mice,&lt;br&gt;
See all their fun, See all their fun&lt;br&gt;
The world is worried about their strife,&lt;br&gt;
The UN put sanctions on the farmers wife;&lt;br&gt;
They’re classified ‘endangered’ and now have a life,&lt;br&gt;
Those three blind mice.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Twinkle, twinkle, little star,&lt;br&gt;
How l wonder what you are!&lt;br&gt;
Up above the world so high,&lt;br&gt;
Like a diamond in the sky;&lt;br&gt;
But Twinkle, twinkle, little star,&lt;br&gt;
Supernova’s hitting all and you’re not far.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Piggy on the railway, picking up stones&lt;br&gt;
Along came an engine and broke piggy's bones.&lt;br&gt;
"Hey," said the driver, "WTF is wrong with you, dude?"&lt;br&gt;
"Tough luck," said the piggy, "You’re getting sued"&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/07/17/politically_correct_nursery_rhymes~2653990/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2007-07-05:/2007/07/05/isandra~2575915/</id><title>Isandra</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/07/05/isandra~2575915/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2007-07-05T05:06:56+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T05:06:56+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Isandra, Isandra,&lt;br&gt;
Why did you lie?&lt;br&gt;
I'd like my pound of flesh.&lt;br&gt;
But I can't ask,&lt;br&gt;
i'm not the cur,&lt;br&gt;
that wants my revenge fresh.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Isandra, Isandra,&lt;br&gt;
I'd like it slow,&lt;br&gt;
marinate the meat to the bone.&lt;br&gt;
Words are like magic,&lt;br&gt;
though they take time,&lt;br&gt;
Inevitability can surely be shown.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Oh Isandra, Isandra,&lt;br&gt;
the story has come,&lt;br&gt;
to an end so nice.&lt;br&gt;
Isandra, Isandra,&lt;br&gt;
forgiven... go home.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2007/07/05/isandra~2575915/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-09-05:/2006/09/05/my_malabar_coast_of_the_night~1100266/</id><title>My Malabar coast of the night.</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/09/05/my_malabar_coast_of_the_night~1100266/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-09-05T21:04:41+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T21:04:41+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blog.de/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=799706"&gt;&lt;img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/706/799706_df6ce90a2a_m.jpg" alt="HPIM1597 copy" title="HPIM1597 copy" vspace="5" hspace="5"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The night has fallen,&lt;br&gt;
my love, I am calling,&lt;br&gt;
"I can still see the light".&lt;br&gt;
Across the lake,&lt;br&gt;
you I shall take,&lt;br&gt;
to my malabar coast of the night.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Don't look back,&lt;br&gt;
at the world we left behind,&lt;br&gt;
there is no wrong or no right.&lt;br&gt;
Start again, I ask thee,&lt;br&gt;
to come by and to see,&lt;br&gt;
my malabar coast of the night.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I've dreamed, youve dreamed,&lt;br&gt;
both of us have seen,&lt;br&gt;
and yet we've had to fight.&lt;br&gt;
To tell ourselves whether,&lt;br&gt;
we've seen us together,&lt;br&gt;
in my malabar coast of the night.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The times they have gone,&lt;br&gt;
I stand here alone,&lt;br&gt;
not worried about my plight.&lt;br&gt;
Don't worry or feel sorry,&lt;br&gt;
for the times that went awry,&lt;br&gt;
coz I know my dream is right...&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;My malabar coast of the night.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/09/05/my_malabar_coast_of_the_night~1100266/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-06-09:/2006/06/09/a_guy_called_billy_and_a_girl_called_ros~865619/</id><title>A guy called Billy and a girl called Rose</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/06/09/a_guy_called_billy_and_a_girl_called_ros~865619/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-06-09T14:09:31+02:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T14:09:31+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;"Sometimes, everybody hurts". Well so what? billy did too. A life that was crazy, got a little bigger blot of ink to stain visibly forever. Of course here the story revolves round only him and his flame. The fire that burned inside, sparked a bit, and finally went off. No signs of any more light left, but the faint smell of a burnt wick and melted wax.&lt;br&gt;
           It was good going between the two of them. They loved, they lived and had a ball of a time. Of course like any other loving homo-sapien pair, they had their little brawls and the making up. They found the craziest places to commit to the strong burning temptation of love they shared. It was mad, also disapproved by a lot of fellow homo-sapiens who ended up most of the time sharing the same table as them. Now their troubles seemed to have left them, since billy and rose ain't together anymore. What happened???&lt;br&gt;
           God knows. But one thing for sure, billy doesn't. One fine day, Rose meets a man of her life... her past life!!! And Rose has this little urge to jump. ANd guess what.... She does jump. A long way past a line where she originally never planned to go.  But hey, its human, isn't it??? She feels a little guilty, and the next thing you know billy has been quarantined from her life. Thats alright though. Billy manages to assume he's at some fault, and tries to get in touch, without any success of course. One fine evening, Billy at his pals place, gets to be witness to Rose talking with his pal over the amazing internet. What does rose have to say?? She says she will get in touch with Billy soon, and soon enough so as to help him keep himself in his senses. She confesses the whole episode to billy's friend, whi until that day, had no place in rose's heart. Not the least bit. And suddenly Rose finds a companion to cry to... BIlly's friend. WHy? Once again god knows... but one thing for sure, Billy doesn't. Billy hopes and waits for that day to come, When Rose would atleast look up at him and talk to him. But once more Rose eludes. No place for billy to look really at this point in time, but our poor man is in love. Why can't he bloody well wait. Sure she has something important running her way, so as to keep her off for so long. But rose did send him a little message though... that one day she would talk. So billy sits everyday, thinking of her and waiting for her to call. and she still hasn't...&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;If someone can write more on this please do. It can take many turns from here. Explore the various possibilities.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/06/09/a_guy_called_billy_and_a_girl_called_ros~865619/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-06-08:/2006/06/08/am_back~863845/</id><title>am back</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/06/08/am_back~863845/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-06-08T20:19:05+02:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T20:19:05+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;hello world,&lt;br&gt;
           this is going to be a little tough writing... haven't blogged in a long time. well was down with a lot of strain in my personal life. but hey!!... life goes on.&lt;br&gt;
           To start with the first paragraph is terrible, no caps, bad punctuation, and so on... and now i don't know what to write about. Maybe i'm still a little disturbed,&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Bye&lt;br&gt;
Shrieky
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/06/08/am_back~863845/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-04-06:/2006/04/06/and_the_snowflake_died~708660/</id><title>And the snowflake died</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/06/and_the_snowflake_died~708660/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-04-06T22:40:05+02:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T22:40:05+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Quietly settling down, sat on my palm... a snowflake. A different one. One i'll never see again. The most beautiful creation of nature. I longed for more. but warmth makes a snowflake melt. Now only in my mind forever, when it was theremy life spiraled out of my surroundings into this little joy and satisfaction. I sat and i stared. I looked away and it was gone.&lt;br&gt;
And the snowflake died.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/06/and_the_snowflake_died~708660/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-04-06:/2006/04/06/flash~708642/</id><title>Flash</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/06/flash~708642/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-04-06T22:33:11+02:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T22:33:11+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;As I stand on this path,&lt;br&gt;
that severs my life.&lt;br&gt;
a life of happiness,&lt;br&gt;
from a life of truth,&lt;br&gt;
I look back&lt;br&gt;
a reminiscence of all&lt;br&gt;
I have been through.&lt;br&gt;
They say a person's life&lt;br&gt;
flashes in front of their eyes&lt;br&gt;
as their life comes to an end.&lt;br&gt;
Many such ends I have gone throug&lt;br&gt;
Yet this one, I want not.&lt;br&gt;
Another life is yet to come&lt;br&gt;
or maybe, many more.&lt;br&gt;
But i'd forever die,&lt;br&gt;
Coz the flashes I know...&lt;br&gt;
... Will never stop
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/06/flash~708642/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-04-04:/2006/04/04/albert_trew_or_albert_loys~702743/</id><title>Albert Trew or Albert Loys</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/04/albert_trew_or_albert_loys~702743/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-04-04T20:56:51+02:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T20:56:51+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;A poem i wrote a while back. Please let me know what interpretation you draw out of it. Mine nobody can fathom, and nobody will ever know. So as a request please don't ask me. But it could mean so many things to so many ppl. I would love to know in how many ways my words can be looked at. Because i've somehow always been through situations where, i say something and ppl hear something else.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Life is such a crazy roller coaster ride. And i want to get down saying "Whew!!! what a ride!!!"&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Albert Trew or Albert Loys&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;A story once said, and left unsaid,&lt;br&gt;
A feeling thinks of ploys.&lt;br&gt;
We were told of the words&lt;br&gt;
Of the baby blue,&lt;br&gt;
The Thakurs and their joys.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Albert Trew or Albert Loys,&lt;br&gt;
It’s left for you to decide.&lt;br&gt;
Who’s the father? What’s the ploy?&lt;br&gt;
In words should you confide?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The mother of the sinful child,&lt;br&gt;
Had wept in tears and cried.&lt;br&gt;
These tears I was told&lt;br&gt;
Is the maiden cause,&lt;br&gt;
For the love of the widowed bride.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Albert Trew or Albert Loys,&lt;br&gt;
It’s left for you to decide.&lt;br&gt;
See its eyes and read its heart,&lt;br&gt;
A child is free of pride.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I’m the father, of that child,&lt;br&gt;
I believe its heart is true.&lt;br&gt;
The cry of the child,&lt;br&gt;
Cannot be false,&lt;br&gt;
It’s the cradle that I drew.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Albert Trew or Albert Loys,&lt;br&gt;
It’s left for you to decide.&lt;br&gt;
I know my heart and my child,&lt;br&gt;
My child has almost died.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Srikanth.J&lt;br&gt;
11-11-2005&lt;br&gt;
02:07 hours&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/04/04/albert_trew_or_albert_loys~702743/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-03-26:/2006/03/26/you_say_goodbye_and_i_say_hello~675004/</id><title>You say goodbye, and i say hello!!!</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/03/26/you_say_goodbye_and_i_say_hello~675004/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-03-26T08:07:07+02:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T08:07:07+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello. and so the story goes. 5 yrs of magic, mush, mania and Monnet. I didn't learn the art, but i learnt to admire it. And last night they said goodbye to me.&lt;br&gt;
They bid me farewell(a rather tearful one). Its not east to say goodbye to 5 Yrs of your grad university. Its changed me... a whole lot. Friends, field trips, parties, the numerous drinking binges, the dancing and sometimes just shaking drunk bodies.... I'll miss it all.&lt;br&gt;
I walk in at 4:30 PM to see the state of the annual day at my college and see the hype, sound, light and music overwhelming me. An hour later... One lovely woman walks up to the microphone and gives a speech that can make Ozymandias cry. Then the small gesture of calling us all on stage and letting balloons go. The music gets louder, the beats resounding as 50+ students acquire a small area of 15 by 20 feet to shake a leg, scream and emote rather wildly. A most beautiful 'wild'. A whole lotta tears, followed by hugging and a few of us, including myself, being thrown 10 Ft into the air in all rush of adrenalin. All this madness was acceptable. Emotionally overwhelming. The music that a few months back shook the nation with its attraction to the young and restless, was now a theme for us. We felt with it("Paatshaala" from the movie Rang De Basanthi). In a few moments, we have all of us back in the audience. Some still under the hangover of the last one hour. And some of us deciding to work on some real hangover. Out we go, the closest bar we can find welcoms us with open arms( each holding a bottle in its grasp) we mix our drinks into a few cola bottles and go back to the college with our elixir in our hands. Right to the back of the amphitheatre, where the celebrations are running.&lt;br&gt;
In a flash, the news of our holdings have reached a few ears and the back of the amphitheatre seems to get a little filled up. We drink and dance wildly into the night. All peace being broken by a few lawkeepers who walk into our little space and ask us to shut shop. Now we get back to nostalgia(sounds rather odd) and the shutters go clicking away as everyone wants to carry back a piece of 5 Yrs in a memory card smaller than 5 Sq cms. It actually works. A picture tells the story of a lifetime. A few hours into the night, we all decide to jam up at one persons place for the night. Clearly we haven't had enough, and there is this visible craving for more. In small groups of 2s and 3s we land up at one designated spot to spend the rest of our night in merryment. It goes as planned and we have once again a few drunk souls shaking legs, singing wildly and exhibiting the homo sapien nature. In all this, somehow every beautiful moment in my life, I connect to one person. My thoughts go wild thinking of her, and wishing she was there with me. Now almost 2 AM, i sit there listening to a few Slow dance numbers as i watch love in bloom. The opposite sexes atrract and move to the dance floor. I sit back on the diwan, thinking of her. Missing her.&lt;br&gt;
The night goes in to day as we enjoy in drunken revelry laughing, crying, comforting each other. Its around 5 AM when i decide to settle my head onto a pillow for the night. I wake up this morning at 8:30 AM to go back home. A big day in my life, zipped past me leaving me with that 5 Sq cm card with memories etched on it. Soon to be erased from the card and put permanently on my computer.&lt;br&gt;
It reminds me not to say goodbye!!!&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;You say goodbye, and I say hello!!!
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/03/26/you_say_goodbye_and_i_say_hello~675004/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk,2006-03-24:/2006/03/24/here_goes~672035/</id><title>Here Goes</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/03/24/here_goes~672035/"/><author><name>stiffles_83</name></author><published>2006-03-24T18:52:53+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T18:52:53+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Well here I am... thought i'd give it a try.&lt;br&gt;
I really wouldn't have much to blog about, but anyway thought i should try. There seems to be this dull excitement within. Its more like...&lt;br&gt;
"OK!! Now what???"&lt;br&gt;
Lets see as time flies.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;-The world is round-
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://alittlemorespace.blog.co.uk/2006/03/24/here_goes~672035/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry></feed>
