<?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-26691454</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:59:38.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a journal of an anonymous saudi</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-116679611058555128</id><published>2006-12-22T05:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T06:01:50.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A surprise.</title><content type='html'>I tell them I can't come home this christmas since it's my first year. I lied. I bought a ticket back to a home I chose. &lt;em&gt;His&lt;/em&gt; home. My haven. My own asylum. My beloved shelter.&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprising him ! He was told I'm heading back to Saudi. He was disappointed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-116679611058555128?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/116679611058555128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/116679611058555128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/12/surprise.html' title='A surprise.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-116553647001482794</id><published>2006-12-07T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T16:07:50.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay..</title><content type='html'>I can't wait till christmas break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me.." you ordered. "Tell you what?". "That you'll stay with me forever&lt;br /&gt;"Habib albi"I say sarcasticly in a lebanese accent "I'll &lt;em&gt;stickwitchya&lt;/em&gt;. I'll stay till you beg for me, till night mends into morning, till you yawn in boredom,,". "Oh god! I kid, I kid! &lt;em&gt;Roo7i, uf!&lt;/em&gt;".I laugh."Did you study?" you asked. "No". "When are you planning to?". "Till you hang up, therefore I can't seem to have enough of &lt;em&gt;swalefik&lt;/em&gt;". "Me too, but promise me that you won't come blaming me when you see that C. Heh, look who's talking! I have a test tomorrow morning."" He laughs "I'm countdowning days till holiday!".&lt;br /&gt;" Can't wait!!!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that we differ from other lovers. We're not just 'a girl meets boy'. We're not just lust. We're not any love that happens everyday. We're not just another saudi boy-and-girl in love. We're us. We're me and you. We ir-repeatable. Stealing moments just to know about one another. Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days. Stealing 'family' time, 'friends' time, 'study' time, 'my' time, 'your' time, 'work' time. Just to. To. &lt;em&gt;We &lt;strong&gt;need&lt;/strong&gt; to? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I sinning? Towards thy mighty god? Towards life? Towards my family? Towards myself?&lt;br /&gt;I feel so happy. After what happened in life; Do I deserve what's happening &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;now&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;? It's like heaven to touch, sense,  feel, and live. I deserve this? Will it be taken away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Say that you stay a little&lt;br /&gt;Don't say bye bye tonight&lt;br /&gt;Say you'll be mine&lt;br /&gt;just a little of bit of love Is worth a moment of your time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;knocking on your door just a little&lt;br /&gt;so cold outside tonight&lt;br /&gt;let's get the fire burning&lt;br /&gt;I know, I keep it burining right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you stay, won't you stay - stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;save room for my love&lt;br /&gt;save room for a moment to be with me&lt;br /&gt;save room for my love save a little&lt;br /&gt;save a little for me&lt;br /&gt;won't you save a little&lt;br /&gt;save a little for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;John Legend - Save Room&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-116553647001482794?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/116553647001482794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/116553647001482794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/12/stay.html' title='Stay..'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115996940937372342</id><published>2006-10-04T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T06:43:29.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing You.</title><content type='html'>I miss summer, when we almost seen each other everyday. Last night I went out to see a movie &amp; it just wasn't the same. Walking alone back home; Staring at the floor &amp;amp; sheltered under my black umbrella. I see the place you loved getting sundae's from, and smile. &lt;em&gt;I miss you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for holiday, when I'll hopefully see you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115996940937372342?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115996940937372342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115996940937372342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/10/missing-you.html' title='Missing You.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115798048122443148</id><published>2006-09-11T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T06:14:41.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And I smiled</title><content type='html'>I stare into your eyes. Not realising what I'm doing. Time froze. I moved my hand and held yours. I smiled :-) laying my head on your chest. We didn't talk much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115798048122443148?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115798048122443148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115798048122443148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/09/and-i-smiled.html' title='And I smiled'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115785649901410974</id><published>2006-09-09T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T19:48:20.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is love supposed to be a shame?</title><content type='html'>Smiling while staring at my beeping phone, pressing it's buttons nonstop. "Who is that you're sending messages to ?" she asked "Erm, my friend.. Sarah! she's currently in Paris! Having a blast.." I continued talking about him as in 'her'."Aha. okay" she interupted while I still talking about 'Sarah'. I got nervous; and with a vacant stare into the tv screen. Not realising what I was watching. My phone's hidden, promising myself to never contact him when she's ever around.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering him, I smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115785649901410974?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115785649901410974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115785649901410974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/09/is-love-supposed-to-be-shame.html' title='Is love supposed to be a shame?'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115502943204873407</id><published>2006-08-08T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T02:30:32.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetest sin..</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;If it's wrong to love you then my heart won't ever make me right.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115502943204873407?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115502943204873407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115502943204873407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/08/sweetest-sin.html' title='Sweetest sin..'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115388058219823151</id><published>2006-07-25T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T19:23:02.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Words And Talking Were Excused.</title><content type='html'>We agreed on when &amp; where.&lt;br /&gt;On a somewhat quite day, in an old-fashioned café.&lt;br /&gt;I wore a casual knee-length dress; he was in a polo shirt &amp; jeans.&lt;br /&gt;Talking was exempt &amp;amp; eye contact on the other hand took over.&lt;br /&gt;We looked into each other for so long; it was tangible.&lt;br /&gt;I felt a little rush of blood into my cheeks &amp; looked down onto my half empty cup.&lt;br /&gt;Hair fell &amp;amp; covered my face.&lt;br /&gt;He lifted my chin up &amp;amp; stroked my hair behind my left ear, looked into my eyes again and smiled as he kept his had on my left cheek.&lt;br /&gt;His lips have always looked relaxed as he smiled or talked.&lt;br /&gt;A jaw that was strong, fierce, and masculine.&lt;br /&gt;Eyes that always seemed to have and tell more, I could wallow into them forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115388058219823151?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115388058219823151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115388058219823151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/07/when-words-and-talking-were-excused.html' title='When Words And Talking Were Excused.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115262357387993205</id><published>2006-07-11T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T06:12:53.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in l.o.v.e</title><content type='html'>I was alone. Nurses exchanging shifts, sitting there on the grey chair next to my bed. It was around 12 noon, I was half-asleep &amp; feeling idle. Someone came inside. I didn’t bother opening my eyes &amp;amp; checking who it was. I smelled a man's perfume. &lt;em&gt;It’s probably the doctor again.&lt;/em&gt; I feel a warm masculine hand sweeping my hair away, brushing his hand through my cheek. He kissed my forehead. I felt warmth all over my body &amp;amp; opened my eyes! &lt;strong&gt;It was him!!! He came!&lt;/strong&gt; He whispered gently ‘ I love you.’. Struggling while sitting straight I hugged him so tight! Wishing the moment was to be infinite! ‘I LOVE YOU TOO!’ I said back. He came! I love him! I felt his affection, presence, touch.. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I felt him&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. I couldn’t ask for more. ‘I love you. Never let me go!’ I said into his ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I couldn’t ask for more!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He brought a gift. A beautifully wrapped gift. ‘Aw. You shouldn’t have!’ I’ve never been so over-whelmed in my life! It was a feeling I’ve never felt before! I was shy, red, happy, energized, excited..&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I WAS IN LOVE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;At Last.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115262357387993205?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115262357387993205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115262357387993205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-in-love.html' title='I&apos;m in l.o.v.e'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115203007795071768</id><published>2006-07-04T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T21:54:23.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I told him</title><content type='html'>First of all, I'd like to apologize for the many spelling/grammatical mistakes I've made in my previous post, I thought it was un-understandable. It was due to the lack of energy &amp; concentration in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My staying at a Hospital in Lyon, located outside Paris, is absolutely depressing. Mama was trying to cheer me up in different ways; my favorite chocolates, movies, and many of such things to amuse me. My father who I haven't seen in a while took a flight &amp; came to visit me.&lt;em&gt; I missed him so much! Why does he have to do that? Isn’t he my father anymore?&lt;/em&gt; He knew I wanted to go to Spain. He told me that my flight to Barcelona was supposed to be &lt;em&gt;'as a surprise'&lt;/em&gt; tomorrow &amp;amp; he postponed it until I get out of the hospital, he told me he booked for three so I could bring along any of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WHY? I wanted to break everything around me! Remove all those stupid tubes &amp; needles stuck into my skin &amp;amp; take the flight tomorrow &amp; meet, feel, love, adore, sense, touch, hold, and see him there! He’s supposed to be in Spain in four days! I hate this accident! I hate hospitals! I hate cars! I don't want to get better! I would do anything to go there! I would risk my life to be with him!&lt;br /&gt;I didn't care; I just need to be with him. My love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have informed him last night; he stopped talking for couple of seconds. I was completely apathetic while telling him, I didn't know how! 'How did it happened?' he asked quietly&lt;br /&gt;' I don't know. I barely remember, I woke-up this way.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;he doesn't reply&lt;/em&gt; 'Habibi, are you still there?' I said trying to make sure 'Yeah, I'm just..' &lt;em&gt;he's not speaking once more&lt;/em&gt; 'Too afraid to loose you'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel goose bumps all over, what should I say?&lt;br /&gt;I love him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;‘ohh don't say such things! Allah y5aleena le b3a'9' I pray, asking god not to separate us. &lt;em&gt;Ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;'Amen. Is there &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt; I could do to make you feel better?' he replies 'aw, thank you! But the phone call was the greatest thing that happened since I got here'&lt;br /&gt;'I know this really good doctor I could give his number to Jacques or anyone that could take of it' he says breathing faster 'That's really sweet of you! But I think those doctors over here at Lyon are really good!' &lt;em&gt;silence is back&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Leet kil ilnas mithlik; you're god's gift to me' He said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love every inch of him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115203007795071768?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115203007795071768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115203007795071768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-told-him.html' title='I told him'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115198805156092062</id><published>2006-07-03T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T21:40:51.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruised</title><content type='html'>I have arrived France. Mom and Jacques, &lt;em&gt;one of our very trusted employees and my personal favorite&lt;/em&gt;, arrived a day earlier than me.&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at 8;00 am, what a beautiful morning it was! But sadly, it didn't quite last that way. Jacques came along with the driver to pick me up, it went perfectly normal. Passport check-up, bags, and everything was going as usual. I got into the car, I asked him to turn on the radio. It was quite, I heard foreign music along the long drive home.&lt;br /&gt;It was sudden, frightening, and as a blink of an eye. I don't quite remeber how &amp; where it happened, but it did. I woke up in a white, blue, green, and grey dull room. I heard beeps coming from the medical machine i wasn't familiar with.&lt;br /&gt;Smelling the fimiliar 'hospital-smell' I've always loathed. Mom was sitting there looking tired &amp; worried. &lt;em&gt;I was in an accident.&lt;/em&gt; Cotton &amp;amp; plaster were in diffrent part of my body including my face.&lt;br /&gt;Currently, My left hand is hurting like hell. I'm stuggling typing using only my right hand &amp; placing my laptop on the food-table above my lap.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't told him yet. Replying his messages like nothing has happened. How will i tell him? Should I keep it to myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115198805156092062?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115198805156092062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115198805156092062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/07/bruised.html' title='Bruised'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115154054022445753</id><published>2006-06-28T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T17:22:20.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a whole new world: collage.</title><content type='html'>I've started applying for collages, and i took his tips &amp; suggestions; and we came-up with a resolution. He'll visiting me as much as he can &amp; he'll join me in his masters! &lt;em&gt;OH! me &amp;amp; him! roommates?? classmates?? &lt;/em&gt;Last night he sent me a text message asking me who i'm staying with in my suite. Alone. 7;45 am i got out of the shower &amp; hear a knock on the door, it was a guy in a uniform with a alot of pink &amp;amp; white flowers! gosh! they are &lt;strong&gt;beautiful&lt;/strong&gt;! they guy asks for my name&lt;br /&gt;'yep, it's me!'&lt;br /&gt;'here are flowers for you miss, just sign here'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;who the hell would send me flowers? Najla? Dad?&lt;/em&gt;I open the card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I MISS YOU!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;--his signature--&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, he's perfect! I call him !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I miss you too baby!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in south Italy, my favourite place on earth! my haven! I'm begging him to come! he told me he'll try! I pray! what a &lt;strong&gt;perfect &lt;/strong&gt;haven would it be if he were here?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115154054022445753?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115154054022445753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115154054022445753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/06/whole-new-world-collage.html' title='a whole new world: collage.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115128381542797524</id><published>2006-06-25T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T18:03:35.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i can't sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's 3;54 AM. I can't sleep. It's quite. All i hear is my keyboard's clicks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I adore you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;baby, you're perfect for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Love me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hold me infinitely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kiss me under those blind stars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Adore me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Say those words that make me melt. Over and over again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hold me high &amp; steal my pain away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Miss me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Marry me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wanna hold you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Am i obssesed with you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115128381542797524?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115128381542797524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115128381542797524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-cant-sleep.html' title='i can&apos;t sleep'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-115128270319364463</id><published>2006-06-25T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T17:45:03.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's just too good to be true.</title><content type='html'>I have known him for more than 3 years. &lt;em&gt;three fascinating years. &lt;/em&gt;When i first knew him i thought him as spoiled little brat who thought he could get every girl he wants, and everything.. well, he was a spoiled brat.But less than i thought. I've started falling for him for the last two years. I'm dying to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; does he love me? Yesterday while i was waiting for he pilot to get into the jet in Heathrow, i send him an sms 'I feel like you've been hating me for the last couple of days, do u?' he send back 'WHAT? what brought that into ur mind? have you seen anything unpleasant from me?'&lt;br /&gt;'no, it was just a sense i got for last couple of days, i felt like telling u now'&lt;br /&gt;'why would i hate u?! what are those crazy thoughts u've been having recently!? If u feel anything, plz tell me at the time i dont want u wondering such crazy things! please don't say that again!!'&lt;br /&gt;' i'm sorry. i promise next time i'll tell u at the time, but i hasistated. i feel better now, thanks :x'&lt;br /&gt;'it's okay, enjoy ur ride &lt;em&gt;ya gamar . &lt;/em&gt;i missed u :('&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've started calling him ya gamar too ! i'm soo thrilled!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he's in St.Tropez right now. ah, i wish i was lying in that beaching tanning with you! o holding you so tight as we ride the banana boat!&lt;br /&gt;babe, i can't wait to see you after your tan, i bet u look HOT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-115128270319364463?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115128270319364463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/115128270319364463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/06/hes-just-too-good-to-be-true.html' title='He&apos;s just too good to be true.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114945509280622837</id><published>2006-06-04T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T14:04:52.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How much is too-much?</title><content type='html'>I think i'm thinking about him way too-much. whenever i hear my phone beeping&lt;em&gt; 'it's him' &lt;/em&gt;i think with a huge grin on my face. whenever i'm happy doing anything i know my happiness won't be perfection until it was with you around. i can't study. i can't concentrate. i think about you too-much. i have to stop. i feel like a pointless loser. but i can't help it. i can't help falling for you. it's scaring me! i'm freaking out! what if you don't love/think aboout me back? what if i'm the one in here?&lt;br /&gt;honey, in life's hectic crowd all i see is you.&lt;br /&gt;you called me last weekend asking me to continue studying my physics. i told him that i couldn't! i just couldn't concertrate! for not longer than 10 minutes. 'there must be something going through your mind these days &amp; you will tell me what' he said&lt;br /&gt;'there isn't anything' i replied&lt;br /&gt;'oh yes, and you will tell me' he said, sacasticly&lt;br /&gt;'no there isn't, believe me!'&lt;br /&gt;'7abibti, i'll call you back later, okay? i'm with il3yal(the guys)'&lt;br /&gt;'yeah sure' i said, feeling all very excited &amp;amp; happy! &lt;em&gt;desperate? aren't i?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;' and you WILL tell me what going through that mind of yours'&lt;br /&gt;'yeah yeah, though there isn't anything'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He calls me in an hour or so, he tells me he's getting sleepy &amp; he hasn't brought his driver along with him today. i feel scared. i tell him he should call someone to take him home. a driver or a friend. i was too scared that something will happen to him in such late time &amp;amp; him being so sleepy. he told me he'll figure it out. he calls me in his way. i was soo scared. he hangs up &amp; call me in around 30 mins &amp;amp; tells me he got home! what a relieve i felt! we talked for 40 minutes, for 40 amazing minutes. he tells me he'll go change. he calls me. ' Okay, you gonna tell me or what?'&lt;br /&gt;'tell you what?!'&lt;br /&gt;'what's keeping you away from concentrating on your studying &amp; going through your mind !'&lt;br /&gt;'oh god! here we go again'&lt;br /&gt;'seriously, if there is anything that is bothering you, feel free to tell me!'&lt;br /&gt;'life'&lt;br /&gt;'life?'&lt;br /&gt;'yeah, that's what's going through my mind, diffrent things! exams, travelling, friends, family, you know such things'&lt;br /&gt;'ohhh..'&lt;br /&gt;'yeah'&lt;br /&gt;'it's not, i'm sure there's something else! i know you!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i giggle&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'oh come on !'&lt;br /&gt;'uhmm..' &lt;em&gt;&amp;amp; i continue with ahh-ing &amp; ohh-ing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'what is it?'&lt;br /&gt;'well, you know.. erm, things like you &amp;amp; me..'&lt;br /&gt;'ohh..'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;moment of silence, it was awkward&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'well, things like how did u you in your exam..' &lt;em&gt;trying to cover-up my obssesion in thinking about it, i was way too-shy to confess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;'oh yeah'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it was obvious at the time he was, too, shy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he changed the subject. we talked for&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; 5 amazing hours&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; on the phone, that went by like 5 seconds. i slept on the voice of his. it was an amazing magical night. i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday &amp; today he wasn't texting &amp;amp; calling me much, i was the one who was texting/calling him. he ignored one of my messages. i sense something. i want to cry. me &amp; my best friend were talking about relationships &amp;amp; cheating. i felt like crying. i don't want him to cheat on me. i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114945509280622837?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114945509280622837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114945509280622837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/06/how-much-is-too-much.html' title='How much is too-much?'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114850547723457092</id><published>2006-05-24T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T14:17:57.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i love, hate, adore, loathe him.</title><content type='html'>i love him, yet i hate him. therefore i wanna be with him forever. i can't stand him. i can't stand those hours without him. i hate his. i hate us just talking &amp; talking &amp;amp; talking and talking. i wanna some action. some kisses. hugs. cuddling.i hate this stupid stuation. is what we're having 'love'?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114850547723457092?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114850547723457092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114850547723457092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-love-hate-adore-loathe-him.html' title='i love, hate, adore, loathe him.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114804919586959119</id><published>2006-05-19T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T02:46:41.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jealousy</title><content type='html'>Jealousy is the fire burning between us, is the ice that is shivering us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were talking the other day about people we know is each others' schools. I told him I knew Misha'al(who is known all over schools with his looks, hot rides, and how he is such a chick-magnet) but not personally I just see him alot. "ohh" he said, &amp; it was obvious that he was quite jelous and thought I liked him. "I hate him, I never can stand him." I replied. "Really ?! why do u hate him so much?" he said " Has he even done something to you? Has he hurt you?" he was starting to act all cautious &amp;amp; macho-ous to me. "NO ! he has never done anything to me! I just can't stand the guy! he's distguses me! I know his girlfriend too, i can't stand her either !" i replied quick. He laughes &amp; feel more comfortable, yet still jealous. "Well, we have the same great taste, eh?" i said jokingly.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend he texted me saying "Hey :x keefik? ". We coninued texting each other till my friends said "god! doesn't your phone stop beeping ?". He asked where i was, i told him i was with my girlfriends &amp;amp; we're stopping by at Baskin Robins to get some icecream, as when we entered i texted him again before he replied to my previous message saying "OMG! guess who's at baskinrobins too!!". "WHO :/ ?" he texted back. "Misha'al :s, ew !". "lol yitmela7?!"(which means 'is he flirting', i think) he wrote.&lt;br /&gt;He is also a little-tiny-winy jealous of my guyfriend. Who i have known for almost 13/12 years !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no him with the whole jealousy issues. I can't stand it when he talks about his ex-girlfriends ! I can't stand it when he uses Salma Hayek or Charlize Theron on his msn display pictures. I can't stand this girl who is like 3 years older than him who is just-a-friend. blah. I'm always obsessing that he'd find another girl who is like with huge boobs &amp; amazing gold tan &amp;amp; would never say no to coming along with him on a date whenever, wherever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114804919586959119?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114804919586959119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114804919586959119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/jealousy.html' title='Jealousy'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114753520449810159</id><published>2006-05-13T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T08:46:44.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shivers !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;oh those beautiful goosebumps shivers i get whenever you call me names such as '&lt;em&gt;habibty&lt;/em&gt;' &amp; '&lt;em&gt;gamar&lt;/em&gt;'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i want to call you name such as these. but i'm too shy to do so; &lt;em&gt;ya habibi.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i'm writing you a msg. should i write what i feel? &lt;em&gt;ya gamar?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114753520449810159?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114753520449810159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114753520449810159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/shivers.html' title='shivers !'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114710562231466628</id><published>2006-05-08T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T09:27:02.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>' love rejection ' phobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;going through her old mailbox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;swept the dust &amp; opened it; a pain is renewed. remembering &lt;em&gt;'Him &amp; Her' &lt;/em&gt;&amp;amp; how amazing it was.hating her current self.hating the boundries &amp; walls that are stopping them from each other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;wonders &amp;amp; thoughts rumbled through her mind. &lt;em&gt;does he still feels it? do his friends still joke around by telling him 'when you're in company with your beloved one-&lt;strong&gt;her&lt;/strong&gt;-, you completely forget about your befriended ones ?' ? what's going through his mind?what are his feelings?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;endless &amp; eternal questions roamed through her mind. a mind wallowed in pain. wonders if her space in his heart is vacant? replaced with someone else's?or as the same as it was ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;writing him a letter.telling what she really feels.pain.love.missing him.&lt;strong&gt;Confessing&lt;/strong&gt;.erasing the things she wote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;dazed. confused. how he'll react?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114710562231466628?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114710562231466628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114710562231466628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/love-rejection-phobia.html' title='&apos; love rejection &apos; phobia'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114693509726772637</id><published>2006-05-06T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T10:04:57.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To risk. For love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He has told me today how me missed me, but oh i have missed him more. He told me how he's been longing to see me. &lt;em&gt;Should i risk seeing him in saudi?&lt;/em&gt; my so-called "reputation" image? risk the people? risk the &lt;em&gt;haya'a&lt;/em&gt;? for &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;oh if i could i would walk barefoot to your room, hold you, and &lt;em&gt;never let you go&lt;/em&gt;. Till when will we stay this way? lovers seperated. I told him i'm travelling to do some fittings for my dresses in couple of weeks &amp; asked if he could meet me there. He told he can't. Does he really can't? or he doesn't want to? i'm fucking dazed &amp;amp; confused. Oh wouldn't it be amazing? just me, him, and le romantic Europe? I told him i might leave for collage, he begged me not to. Would it really make a diffrence if not there around? we don't see each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I want cupid. To guide me in my relationship with him. Or a little guide book to do and don'ts . A manual to deal with him; to make him happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I saw a picture of him lately. I thought he looked ugly, is that a sign that i don't love him? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Am i in love? Am i desperate? Who is the judge of love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114693509726772637?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114693509726772637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114693509726772637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/to-risk-for-love.html' title='To risk. For love?'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114692284448567774</id><published>2006-05-06T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T06:40:44.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it does. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;will we last?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;will we live happily ever after?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or am i in a big fairy tale lie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114692284448567774?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114692284448567774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114692284448567774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/love-hurts.html' title='Love Hurts'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114660815236002058</id><published>2006-05-02T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T05:52:55.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i love being in love !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;life has been &lt;em&gt;a sunshine &lt;/em&gt;lately, while it's a scary tornado outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114660815236002058?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114660815236002058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114660815236002058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-love-being-in-love.html' title='i love being in love !'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114631285469636876</id><published>2006-04-29T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T05:19:21.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bursting emotions.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;I adore you.&lt;br /&gt;I want to spend the rest of my life with you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before i knew you; I used to cut, burn, and torture myself. I want to die so bad. I loathed life. It was meaningless, but it all stopped when you appeared . I have always thought of you as an angel sent from god to save me from killing myself. You completely flipped my world &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;upsidedown&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I love my life; you're my life. Yesterday we talked for how long we've known each other. wow, i never knew it was that much; though i counted each second of it. Oh yes, you're my guilty pleasure. I couldn't understand "love-metaphors" until i knew you. I understood what "you give me butterflies" meant. My heart stopped beating yesterday when u called. My lungs stopped functioning. But i enjoyed each moment of it. Oh i love you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn't study for the chemistry test. I couldn't get those symbols, words, and letters into my mind. cause there weren't any space for them. You filled my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I screwed up in that test. I don't care. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm a fool for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114631285469636876?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114631285469636876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114631285469636876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/04/bursting-emotions.html' title='bursting emotions.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114616259969641480</id><published>2006-04-27T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T11:29:59.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've always hated marriage &amp; intended not to be someday.But i love that hatred when if it'll involve &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;. I miss you so much it hurts. I write a new sms message "&lt;em&gt;I miss you so much it hurts&lt;/em&gt;", write that phone number of yours &lt;em&gt;that won't forget,&lt;/em&gt; send, then cancel the sending. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i can't move on. not without you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tears are secretly fall in my room, on my keyboard while i'm writing this. do you know that? can i tell you that i love you so much that it makes me cry?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114616259969641480?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114616259969641480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114616259969641480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/04/love-sick.html' title='love sick'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114579703672041473</id><published>2006-04-23T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T05:57:16.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He was there</title><content type='html'>I remeber when he first asked for my name. What was his reaction?&lt;br /&gt;"it's as same as my mom's". Some of you may call him &lt;em&gt;'mama's boy'&lt;/em&gt;. I don't care. I love him whoever he was.&lt;br /&gt;Almost a year after i knew him, I found out that his mom knew mine. I was very shocked .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's almost a year since I've spoken or seen him, I've seen the darker side of life while he's gone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom was telling me that she got invited to a wedding of &lt;em&gt;Sarah&lt;/em&gt;. It was his sister getting married. I was excited about going. I can see him after this long time!I would see him probably when he's out at the&lt;em&gt;  Zaffah &lt;/em&gt;with his siblings in the &lt;em&gt;thobe bisht&lt;/em&gt;, and &lt;em&gt;shimagh looking all elegant &amp; sexy&lt;/em&gt; to congragulate her, However, I was out of my mind for few seconds thinking &lt;em&gt;should I wear the Armani dress? Or the other black one? what should i do with my hair? &lt;/em&gt;but my mom talking interrupted my thoughts &amp; rumbles. ''Oh, sorry mama..What were you saying about the wedding? When is it?".&lt;br /&gt;My mom has declined the invitation to Sarah's wedding. I felt like exploding in tears at the moment. But I held them &amp;amp; promised not expose myself to mama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114579703672041473?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114579703672041473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114579703672041473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/04/he-was-there.html' title='He was there'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26691454.post-114565794109695957</id><published>2006-04-21T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T05:36:14.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Post.</title><content type='html'>My first post. I will be writing every now &amp; then about my life. I would be writing things that could be fiction or things that I'm telling from my everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lying on a long chair alone at sunset time on the beach. Friends chatting. Lovers being in love. All enjoying the beauty of this part of day that we should all cherish.&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I've made a sin against mother nature for not enjoying this tremendous moment properly. A warm tear felt down my cheek; No staying at the Ritz resort can fulfill the space in my heart he had left. No solitaire diamond ring can fill the space I've left for his hands to touch me. No fancy tea parties can return the smile he has drawn on my face once.&lt;br /&gt;I knew that the only person that sould be sharing this chair with me was him. Does he think that too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, darling? the very first time we saw each other?&lt;br /&gt;We both begged our parents to go there. But no one really knew the reason we're going.&lt;br /&gt;Everynight, we would sneak out after mid-night. After our parents slept.&lt;br /&gt;Get out of our bungalos' to meet at 'the banana tree' next to the bicyle parking; then we would go barefoot to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;Talking all night &amp; wishing it was infinite.&lt;br /&gt;Till we would feel night was melding into morning. The sunrise was reflecting the sea. It was orange. It was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;We would both see each other next morning while having breakfast, seperatly. With our parents. Smiling &amp;amp; glimsing at each other like we were strangers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26691454-114565794109695957?l=saudi-anon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114565794109695957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26691454/posts/default/114565794109695957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saudi-anon.blogspot.com/2006/04/1st-post.html' title='1st Post.'/><author><name>anonymoussaudi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14812316975537934006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
