<?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-3757147360246767437</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:53:55.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little bro's corner</title><subtitle type='html'>In my little head trying to find whats with the big world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</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>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3154770572725132521</id><published>2008-11-03T01:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T01:36:57.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mental combustion</title><content type='html'>Its the other me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3154770572725132521?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3154770572725132521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3154770572725132521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3154770572725132521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3154770572725132521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/11/mental-combustion.html' title='Mental combustion'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3310095312099262236</id><published>2008-10-21T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T22:18:01.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know where this is going</title><content type='html'>I'm just going to type from whatever comes into my head.  There is a lot of things that have been buzzing into my head and I'm not sure what I'm holding within.  My eyes are close for most of this, but I open them when I'm not sure when I spelled or typed something wrong.  I find it sometimes that when I think and not see, things come out in ways that I'm not sure for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I haven't fill your position.  Not to say that its a job, but to say that I hope I can make your life as enjoyable as mine.  That life isn't experienced alone but with others.  I would like to find someone who I can share my life with.  I want to find someone who can understand me or at allow them to know who I am.  I feel that I'm a puzzle at times and need help in solving who I am.  I want someone who I can comfort and ask them how they are doing.  to pray and find God in more than my own insight.  I want to be able to have someone in my arms so that I can feel God's love in the physical realm.  I want to be able to experience something outside of my own mental compacity.  I want to be able to love beyond my own capability.  I want to grow and become things more than I can be.  For God and for you.  I don't know who you are but I want to find you.  I seek after you in hope and joy that our love will be something.  I may take my time since its hard to find where God is leading me.  I am blind at times when my pride take over.  I ask God to soften my heart so that I'm able to follow him and find you.  There isn't a single women that I'm destined to be.  But there is a single women who I will promise to spend the rest of my life with.  I don't want to be something that will be fickle and waste away, but love that can be an ounce of love that Christ has for me.  I want to b ea man that can defend and push you to be something greater than you could be.  I want to be stretch, challenged, and driven crazy.  Crazy to be alive, to love, and to find God.  I want to be a Jesus freak with someone.  I want to be a Christ lover with you.  I pray that I'm patience.  I pray that I'm honorable and know my manners.  I hope that I can make you love and find peace from God that you can learn to find.  I want to say I love you in the deepest and holy when when I get the courage to marry you.  I ask that we find each other soon.  But at the same time I know I need to wait and look for you.  I want to hold hands my love and be able to hold you when the time gets hard.  I want it to be something where I don't have to go through life alone.  I want you to find God in ways beyond myself.  I ask you can teach me to find God as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where this is going.  I still haven't really reread this post.  I don't want to.  I don't need to.  I just needed something to get off my chest.  I want peace of mind and allow God to work through me.  So if I look through this again.  I know where I need to work or see what I've changed from myself.  God let me seek you so you can teach me to love others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3310095312099262236?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3310095312099262236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3310095312099262236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3310095312099262236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3310095312099262236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-dont-know-where-this-is-going.html' title='I don&apos;t know where this is going'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-5824935793151802990</id><published>2008-10-21T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T21:58:17.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its been awhile</title><content type='html'>There seems to be a lot that has been going on in my life.  My addiction to World of Warcraft is up and running.  The internal struggle of how I face is constant, but I'm finding solace in God giving me strength and just letting me say to myself, "take a break from it".  I would like to and hope that I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing thats been bugging me is my how status.  My status as an individual and my status  in my career.  I've been a student for 17 years, at least.  I really want to be done with school.  I enjoy the freedom, but I rather be doing something else.  When I start working and posting more often, will likely occur.  But at teh same time I'm not sure what to think.  I really need to focus on my academics, but sadly I'm writing here instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back the my other "status".  I must say one thing.  I really hate how young christian get married (not saying that a christian who recently found god getting married, but college age christians getting married).  You can blame my jealous, you can blame that fact that I'm frustrated, or you could see the dilemma that myself and others are in.  Its not wrong to be married at my age nor is it bad.  But at the same time I don't see how some people can get married so soon and fast.  I understand my cousin who married her husband in 6 months, but their situation was that they are in their 30s.  I've seen people who date for two years at my age and I wonder how that is posible.  I've changed so much in the past two years alone.  Maybe I don't want to burden someoen with my problems.  The only person I know who can handle them is Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been 4 years since I had a relationship.  I've been searching, but have none in sight.  Sadly, I need patience.  Contrary to what I believe, I don't have any patience.  Over those 4 years has created in me, a hype to be searching and seeking harder.  Harder so I won't be the only single person in my family.  Harder so that I can be there to hold someone's hand and do it in a way that they know that I love them.  But none will occur.  None will appear.  Not now, at least.  I don't say this in spite of the desperate way I sound, but I say it in the way that I'm giving up.  I'm giving up on myself.  So that I can trust in what God is doing in my life.  Trusting in him as he places people in my life.  Having faith that can move mountains and bring love, peace, joy, and righteouness to those around me.  To know that I stand on God's word, but also lean on him for guidance and peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I wish that God could just hold me and hug me.  Maybe I just need to not act strong and give into my weakness and let God reign in my life more.  Let him shine through that I try to act on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;2 Timothy 4:17-18 (New International Version)&lt;/h3&gt; &lt;div class="publisher-info-inset"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/versions/?action=getVersionInfo&amp;amp;vid=31"&gt;New International Version&lt;/a&gt; (NIV)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span id="en-NIV-29872" class="sup"&gt;17&lt;/span&gt;But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth. &lt;span id="en-NIV-29873" class="sup"&gt;18&lt;/span&gt;The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-5824935793151802990?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/5824935793151802990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=5824935793151802990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5824935793151802990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5824935793151802990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-been-awhile.html' title='Its been awhile'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-4645165063347223022</id><published>2008-06-28T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T02:34:31.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired but happy</title><content type='html'>Learning &lt;a href="http://weblog.xanga.com/darkside1985"&gt;More&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-4645165063347223022?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/4645165063347223022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=4645165063347223022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4645165063347223022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4645165063347223022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/tired-but-happy.html' title='Tired but happy'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2743694280129760534</id><published>2008-06-27T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T00:37:45.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The heart strings</title><content type='html'>Lesson &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/Darkside1985"&gt;learned &lt;/a&gt;and dealing with it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2743694280129760534?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2743694280129760534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2743694280129760534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2743694280129760534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2743694280129760534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/heart-strings.html' title='The heart strings'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1767068899378096880</id><published>2008-06-26T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T08:12:24.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Floating too high</title><content type='html'>Sucks when a you do something &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/Darkside1985"&gt;dumb &lt;/a&gt;at that altitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1767068899378096880?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1767068899378096880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1767068899378096880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1767068899378096880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1767068899378096880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/floating-too-high.html' title='Floating too high'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-651175614551727006</id><published>2008-06-14T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T23:42:43.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Head is swimming with randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://weblog.xanga.com/darkside1985"&gt;Other side&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-651175614551727006?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/651175614551727006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=651175614551727006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/651175614551727006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/651175614551727006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/head-is-swimming-with-randomness.html' title='Head is swimming with randomness'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1390665812644639041</id><published>2008-06-14T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T02:04:49.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace Beyond Understanding</title><content type='html'>Its on the &lt;a href="http://weblog.xanga.com/darkside1985"&gt;other side&lt;/a&gt;.  Yea, I know I'm lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1390665812644639041?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1390665812644639041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1390665812644639041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1390665812644639041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1390665812644639041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/peace-beyond-understanding.html' title='Peace Beyond Understanding'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1629701289447468420</id><published>2008-06-08T03:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T03:59:32.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growth</title><content type='html'>I was talking to a friend of mine and we've been getting closer over the years.  When I was at least a sophmore I have known him.  Love his voice when he sings and even though he hates it, he is a man that loves a lot of things.  Nature is the thing he loves and I see him as a steward to the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen a lot of growth in him and myself.  I'm really glad I can encourage him and witness how God is being active in his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like him, I have a hard time loving myself and trying to be too selfless.  To which I can't love myself.  Because of this there is a lot of pain and suffering that I endured for the sake of others.  Even if I didn't have to.  But luckily I've grown away from that.  I enjoy giving but only as much as God asks of me.  Also I'm really happy with what he is doing in my life.  I know it won't always be peachy keen, but I'm excited to see what else is in store for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I starting to see how I can love others and myself at the same time.  I'm finding beauty and meeting people that I won't have normally.  I just wonder if I found a beauty at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting, Waiting, Wishing&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1629701289447468420?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1629701289447468420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1629701289447468420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1629701289447468420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1629701289447468420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/growth.html' title='Growth'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-5082664464432552187</id><published>2008-06-07T02:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T02:34:58.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith and girls (cough I mean ladies)</title><content type='html'>So I've noticed a switch in my life.  Not letting things that go my way get to me.  I usually freak out about the situation I'm in and the possibilities of things going wrong.  My worst enemy is myself and at times gets the best of me.  I've been blessed to meet and see people that I wouldn't meet normally.  I've also mets girls who seem interested in me.  I wouldn't normally see these things.  I'm gaining confidence and feeling more attractive than I used to feel.  I don't feel like a beast, but I don't feel like a prince.  I just feel good about myself and content with what I given.  I've also been discerning over decision over what I should or could be doing.  Realizing that I don't have to have everything now gives clarity in my actions.  I've always been "wanting" a relationship and never really doing about anything.  Then again I just realized something.  I have a lot of friends who are girls.  I wonder how are relationship is to them.  Is it platonic?  Am I misleading?  Am I obvious that I like her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is that I used to like this one girl.  Even borderline obsession.  But I never did anything and I was wondering what I should do.  By the time I made a move it was too late.  But I'm glad that I didn't make a move because the person that is in her life seems good for her.  They seem compatible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of things I wish I could have and realize that I need to be patient.  Do I have time to commit?  I want her to feel pursued.  I want to be pursued.  I want to be in an environment where I can be loving and uplifting.  And visa versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm in a good spot.  I want and wish for things, but at the same time I'm not in a rush.  I'm loved and am loved by the community I am in.  But then again I wouldn't mind sharing life with someone else right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being wishy washy and young&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-5082664464432552187?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/5082664464432552187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=5082664464432552187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5082664464432552187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5082664464432552187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/faith-and-girls-cough-i-mean-ladies.html' title='Faith and girls (cough I mean ladies)'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-4223803417663075535</id><published>2008-06-06T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T01:47:55.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry I haven't treated you well.</title><content type='html'>I just haven't felt like updating here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-4223803417663075535?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/4223803417663075535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=4223803417663075535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4223803417663075535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4223803417663075535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/06/sorry-i-havent-treated-you-well.html' title='Sorry I haven&apos;t treated you well.'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-5250649227137238169</id><published>2008-03-22T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T02:42:09.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Win</title><content type='html'>These are the words that rang at church today.   Not the guilt and shame that has gotten to me every Good Friday, but knowing that there is light in the mist of my sins.  To know that my sins were taken because He wanted to.  I didn't force Him to, but he loved me more that I needed Him to take them from me.  But the joy of knowing that He took them and rescued me.  We win..... we win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-5250649227137238169?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/5250649227137238169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=5250649227137238169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5250649227137238169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5250649227137238169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-win.html' title='We Win'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-6487264639482128881</id><published>2008-03-19T18:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T18:43:29.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not forgotten nor left behind</title><content type='html'>Dear Little bro,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for not using or typing on you.  I feel bad that I haven't been spilling my guts and emotion to you.  But at times I just had to go with an old friend.  But I update you now and just typing anything feels better right now.  I'm going to Canada today and going to eat ALL YOU CAN EAT sushi.  Gotta love Richmond and its FOBby foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feel overall calmness even though I have a final at 8AM tomorrow.  Yes, I'm going to Canada, but I really need some comfort food.  Makes me feel good inside.  But lately I haven't really been praying which isn't helping me as much.  Which makes me try to do everything on my own which is bad.  I'm capable of doing it by myself, but for how long and how well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I think I'm doing well. I hope I am.  But I get stressed out even when I don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thats all signing off&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-6487264639482128881?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/6487264639482128881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=6487264639482128881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6487264639482128881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6487264639482128881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-forgotten-nor-left-behind.html' title='Not forgotten nor left behind'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1391778265421643654</id><published>2008-03-13T02:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T02:13:33.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Need to sleep</title><content type='html'>So I put my post on the other side.  Sorry loyalties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1391778265421643654?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1391778265421643654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1391778265421643654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1391778265421643654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1391778265421643654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/03/need-to-sleep.html' title='Need to sleep'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-7092743846205050582</id><published>2008-03-02T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T00:52:25.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>Too lazy to post 2 again.  Just read the other side.  Its older so its more of a friend I'm used to using.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-7092743846205050582?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/7092743846205050582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=7092743846205050582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7092743846205050582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7092743846205050582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/03/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2838515816994216145</id><published>2008-02-29T00:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T00:05:41.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy</title><content type='html'>Been too lazy writing on two blogs.  Link is to the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2838515816994216145?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2838515816994216145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2838515816994216145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2838515816994216145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2838515816994216145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/02/lazy.html' title='Lazy'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3864432142722756477</id><published>2008-02-11T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T01:40:25.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Side thought</title><content type='html'>I likes girls, I always have.  My first crush was during Preschool.  Why do I say this?  Because I like this girl and I don't know what to do.  The problem is that a friend of mine likes her.  I don't want to back down, but I'm not going to ruin my friendship because of it.   So.... I think I just need to pray and think about this and talk to him.  That is all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heterosexual&lt;br /&gt;Little Brother&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3864432142722756477?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3864432142722756477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3864432142722756477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3864432142722756477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3864432142722756477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/02/side-thought.html' title='Side thought'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-4711320226217861798</id><published>2008-01-17T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T21:26:59.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastinating</title><content type='html'>There is a lot on my mind.  I already posted on my other blog, but for some reason I just don't want to do my homework.  I also want to sleep, but I'm delaying that by not doing my homework.  I'm very tired of school and its only like 1 1/2 weeks of school.  That or I'm very lonely and partially mentally exhausted.  Not really had much time to chew on my break since I was getting to know my family better.  There are times where I just don't want to do anything.  Lay in bed and think or just sleep.  I've been active enough to not feel lazy.  I don't get the chance to be lazy often.  Then again playing games isn't a way for me to relax, but more of a way to run away from thinking.  Thank God I haven't been playing anything addictive in the last two days.  Uninstall is my new friend lately.  But sadly I can make friends easily, but I wonder if I have any best friends who really know me.  Then again I'm my own enigma.  So what can I say?  I'm not helping myself, either.  My masochist like self wants to do something just to feel something.  But that never solves anything.  Don't worry its not very harmful.  Its like punching the floor or something or hitting my fist together.  I don't break the skin, I just like the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one thing I have no doubt in my mind.  I'm normal and wanting something.  Happiness, love, or something esle I don't know.  But getting that oh so lovely attention is always nice.  Maybe thats why I don't want attention to myself verbally.  I may feel to guilt to say it unless its through blogging.  So much censorship in my head and yet this and other journals open up floodgates of thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bleh  I think I'm good for now.  I probably won't post until Monday or so.  I think I got my blogging bug again.  But not is a rush to bear everything yet.  It takes time, I say Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever so vulnerable blogger&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-4711320226217861798?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/4711320226217861798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=4711320226217861798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4711320226217861798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4711320226217861798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2008/01/procrastinating.html' title='Procrastinating'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3793493826709140397</id><published>2007-11-11T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T00:40:08.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Been going through my routine</title><content type='html'>I feel guilty that I haven't posted much.  I've been busy and tired and lazy.  Waking up for class at 6:45AM isn't my cup of tea when I go to bed around 11ish to 12am.  So that means I average 5 to 6 hours of sleep.  On top of that I've been working out on MWF of the week.  Doing cardio, sprinting for a bit (wind sprints for 2 laps), and 50 pushups and 200 crunches.  It seems that I won't hit my 100 push-up goal, but I've added swimming to my routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiritually I've been doing pretty good.  Having a good time with my small group and enjoying the times with my roommates and friends.  Also on top of that been quite active with high school youth group with my roommate's church.  Been busy and enjoying myself.  Its been quite fulfilling and yes I still play video games, but it isn't my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have gone to a concert, went to a post rally for JEMS Warm Beach, went to my church retreat, and college retreat.  Going on a high school retreat this coming weekend.  Pretty busy, but I feel good.  I just wish my face would reflect that well.  I hate sugar.  Why does it taste good, but does horrible horrible things to me?  Sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting self image issues&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3793493826709140397?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3793493826709140397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3793493826709140397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3793493826709140397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3793493826709140397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/11/been-going-through-my-routine.html' title='Been going through my routine'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-429674819963205630</id><published>2007-10-01T20:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T20:53:12.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The worst of my geekiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=7,0,0,0" name="FLVPlayer2" id="FLVPlayer2" height="320" width="427"&gt;All I know is that this game was fun.&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;param name="movie" value="http://app.wishoo.com/events/mtv_rockband/flash/FLVPlayer_Progressive.swf"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;param name="quality" value="high"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;param name="scale" value="noscale"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;param name="FlashVars" value="&amp;amp;MM_ComponentVersion=1&amp;amp;skinName=http://app.wishoo.com/events/mtv_rockband/flash/Clear_Skin_3&amp;amp;streamName=http://dl.rockband.com/mtv_rockband/seattle__wa/09_30_2007/5466002D-4908-49D9-A933-CB5163F6B2A7.flv&amp;amp;autoPlay=true&amp;amp;autoRewind=false"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;embed src="http://app.wishoo.com/events/mtv_rockband/flash/FLVPlayer_Progressive.swf" flashvars="&amp;amp;MM_ComponentVersion=1&amp;amp;skinName=http://app.wishoo.com/events/mtv_rockband/flash/Clear_Skin_3&amp;amp;streamName=http://dl.rockband.com/mtv_rockband/seattle__wa/09_30_2007/5466002D-4908-49D9-A933-CB5163F6B2A7.flv&amp;amp;autoPlay=true&amp;amp;autoRewind=false" quality="high" scale="noscale" name="FLVPlayer2" salign="LT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash" height="320" width="427"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-429674819963205630?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/429674819963205630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=429674819963205630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/429674819963205630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/429674819963205630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/10/worst-of-my-geekiness.html' title='The worst of my geekiness'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-6734406051637012708</id><published>2007-09-30T01:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T01:32:27.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleh</title><content type='html'>I don't want to post again and my left hand hurts.  Read the last part of the post on "Other Me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-6734406051637012708?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/6734406051637012708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=6734406051637012708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6734406051637012708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6734406051637012708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/bleh.html' title='Bleh'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2741648056106674783</id><published>2007-09-16T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T01:31:07.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaching with a warm hand.</title><content type='html'>So I went to &lt;a href="http://www.cornwallchurch.com/221440.ihtml"&gt;Salt on the Streets&lt;/a&gt;.  I'm glad I don't have to second guess myself anymore when I shake hands with people who are looked at as dirty or an eye sore.  I feel like I'm helping feeding the flock and helping my Lord in His work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need sleep&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2741648056106674783?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2741648056106674783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2741648056106674783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2741648056106674783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2741648056106674783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/reaching-with-warm-hand.html' title='Reaching with a warm hand.'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-6711470467130429227</id><published>2007-09-14T01:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T01:57:16.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind bottling</title><content type='html'>My mind is trapped and I can't sleep.  Curse this melon of mine.  Find my thoughts in the &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/Darkside1985"&gt;other side&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-6711470467130429227?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/6711470467130429227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=6711470467130429227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6711470467130429227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6711470467130429227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/mind-bottling.html' title='Mind bottling'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2932913998762931385</id><published>2007-09-13T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T00:06:02.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>These are questions that occurred when we talked after watching a Nooma video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is the worst thing that you could see other than seeing someone go to hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: God isn't glorified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought:  This is challenging for me to say because it is sad to see people go to hell.  BUT its also sad to not praise God in the sense of who he is and how he is in control.  I always have to remind myself that God is in control and that I should trust in him.  Also that I do not have the authority to decide who goes where.  I am only a slave to God that tries to glorify Him with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Do you believe that we have a choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: No, but God loves us so much that he allows us to choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought:  We are slaves to God because we were bought at a price from Satan.  So we do not have the ability to choose unless we have been given the privilege to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:  Why were we created? and what are we called to live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:   To worship and praise God.  We are also to Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought:  God wants us to praise Him for who he is.  The Creator of us.  Because He created us He loves us.  So we are called to Love ourselves.  Cause if we love ourselves we are to love other people as if they are us.  So if you can't love yourself, you can't love God.  You can try and fool yourself, but if you can't Love God?  Then who can you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I not sure what to think of these things.  They are in your face kinds of questions and are hard to swallow and take in.  If you agree or disagree then you are entitled to that, but if you don't ask these questions then you aren't helping yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding where he stands and lives for&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2932913998762931385?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2932913998762931385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2932913998762931385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2932913998762931385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2932913998762931385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-9124499086071401368</id><published>2007-09-12T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T00:42:35.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wounds</title><content type='html'>I've had a lot of these.  These aren't your normal wounds either.  They are the internal ones.  They are the ones that hurt so bad that it takes years and even an epiphany for them to heal.  But this isn't something new or anything.  Its been something that I had to deal head first into this year.  I've been cut deep.  By family, friends, and for the most myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I only consider this lately from watching a &lt;a href="http://www.nooma.com/Info/About.aspx?gclid=CPH0nq6xvY4CFSUfhgodbRYWyw"&gt;Nooma &lt;/a&gt;video.  It was about forgiveness.  Forgiveness isn't really for others.  Its for us to say, "I am letting go of this and that I let God take control of it. "  But true forgiveness is wishing them well.  Sadly there have been people I don't know if I can do that for now.  But if I spend more time with God it'll become easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wounds that I have endured is being used, allowing myself to be used, not speaking for myself, feeling that every mishap or accident was deserved, or just taking punishment from other while doing nothing and saying that I deserve it.  But I don't deserve anything.  Blessing or misfortune.  What I do deserve is to accept and use whatever God sends me.  Its hope like this that kept me from doing anything stupid when I lost two friends.  When I was used by a friend.  When family would do certain things I didn't care for or had no say in.  All these things are things that have happened in my life.  I still love most of my friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not going to forget what was done.  Because I have to learn from it.  I have to move on.  I have to follow God.  To see it for something He made it to be........... beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting something beautiful to fall on him.&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-9124499086071401368?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/9124499086071401368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=9124499086071401368' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/9124499086071401368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/9124499086071401368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/wounds.html' title='Wounds'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-5957066909846829076</id><published>2007-09-07T17:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T17:47:36.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Me</title><content type='html'>I don't know what else to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its over there ----------------------------------------------------&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-5957066909846829076?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/5957066909846829076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=5957066909846829076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5957066909846829076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5957066909846829076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/other-me.html' title='The Other Me'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3879008487253552996</id><published>2007-09-04T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T22:54:14.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lack of reflection</title><content type='html'>I finished reading Blue Like Jazz and I liked it.  But I've been thinking and reflecting on what I should do with my life and what I've learned.  I've been told that the Bible is a reflection of what we should be in God and reveals the good and bad within us.  Because of this idea I'm having a hard time seeing myself.  I have a hard time really seeing God in the Word.  I don't doubt my faith, but its not comforting to not feel like I am able to dig deeper with God.  Because of this I'm kind of stuck and I'm clueless.  So if anything I hope I can be able to find myself and God.  To feel and sense what is going on within and outside.  School won't start for awhile so I'm stuck waiting for 12 days of nothing until school starts :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna do my push-ups&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3879008487253552996?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3879008487253552996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3879008487253552996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3879008487253552996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3879008487253552996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/09/lack-of-reflection.html' title='Lack of reflection'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-8081664189558947465</id><published>2007-08-31T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:53.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired, but fine</title><content type='html'>I'm so glad I don't have to think about myself.  Just got to enjoy a friend's birthday and have a Mac &amp; Jack and a Cap n Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW_Y7KnOI/AAAAAAAAADc/CjOB3qOzVVU/s1600-h/DSCN2521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW_Y7KnOI/AAAAAAAAADc/CjOB3qOzVVU/s320/DSCN2521.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104785087158459618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Play some pool and enjoy each other's company.  I haven't had much time to just hang out and have fun.  My summer is starting to wind down and my independence is starting to settle back to what I'm used to.  Wanting to work in reaching out to what society has forgotten.  Giving to those that need and loving those that need love.  I want to do a lot and I'm afraid of failing.  But I know that failure isn't a problem.  Its learning from failure and moving forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend was talking to be about something I posted about me not looking for a girl friend.  He told me that he had to reread it cause he wasn't sure what I was talking about.  But its actually that I'm not looking for a girlfriend.  I'm looking for a wife so that complicates things more.  I don't care about dating cause what I do is courting her.  I don't want to be in a relationship where I'm gonna use her to make me "understand" what a relationship is suppose to be.  I rather learn about her and who she is that I'm awe struck with her.  I get to find and meet a person and she wants to know who I am as well.  That is what I'm looking for.  I know what I want, but the question I need to ask myself is that am I good enough for her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that I'm gonna do some push ups and go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired and sober&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW_I7KnNI/AAAAAAAAADU/c7Ew9q87hoQ/s1600-h/DSCN2513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW_I7KnNI/AAAAAAAAADU/c7Ew9q87hoQ/s320/DSCN2513.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104785082863492306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-o7KnLI/AAAAAAAAADE/Ea595t_gmsQ/s1600-h/DSCN2491.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-o7KnLI/AAAAAAAAADE/Ea595t_gmsQ/s320/DSCN2491.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104785074273557682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-47KnMI/AAAAAAAAADM/atdKfDRmRKk/s1600-h/DSCN2511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-47KnMI/AAAAAAAAADM/atdKfDRmRKk/s320/DSCN2511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104785078568524994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-Y7KnKI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DJTMZIEKOdw/s1600-h/DSCN2486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW-Y7KnKI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DJTMZIEKOdw/s320/DSCN2486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104785069978590370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - My brother makes me drink now ~_~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-8081664189558947465?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/8081664189558947465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=8081664189558947465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/8081664189558947465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/8081664189558947465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/tired-but-fine.html' title='Tired, but fine'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RtfW_Y7KnOI/AAAAAAAAADc/CjOB3qOzVVU/s72-c/DSCN2521.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3084120381368240021</id><published>2007-08-30T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T02:13:27.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>I'm frustrated that I can't listen to my own mom.  I get tired when she doesn't listen to me.  I don't want to feel this way.  I don't know how to address it, but I feel like she isn't a good listener.  Well neither is my dad.  All I know is that I need more patience with them.  I don't really know what else to do.  I have told them to listen, but I feel they don't hear it or something.  I think what bugs me the most is that they look to me to answer everything for them.  Because I give them an answer.  But the reason I give them an answer is that I'm looking for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example: I don't know anything about cars.  I don't really care much for cars as long as I'm safe and that it gets me to where I need to go.  But my mom thinks I know everything.  She keeps asking me question I have no clue to and it bugs me.  I tell her I don't know and she asks me another question later.  I don't want to be an adult that has to ask people the answer.  I want to seek these answers myself.  I don't think asking people is bad.  But having them as the only solution to your questions is asking too much.  I'm NOT God.  I don't love my parents like God.  I don't have enough patience.  I'm human.  I'm young adult.  I'm a man who is trying to find himself and searching for answers that I don't know.  I don't need to be asked 20 questions about things I don't know.  I spend time to look and find things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it just that I get tired of spending energy and time looking into things and having my parents ask me a question about something and assume that I know it cause its a passion.  It isn't.  My passions aren't what my brothers and sister are.  I share some passions with them, but it isn't the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately I feel that I'm relied on too much.  That I have to be greater than I am.  I'm tired and weak.  I don't need this.  I love helping others, but not when I'm expected or forced to do it.  Let me volunteer than expect me.  I have a totally different attitude about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my parents so much and I can't stop thinking about it since yesterday.  I feel I've lost communication with my mom.  I hate that I can't ask her things spiritually anymore.  I can't ask her to pray for me.  I can't tell her my spiritual problems.  All we talk about is gossip and family matter.  I don't mind family matters, but not when thats the only conversation.  I just feel that we are on a different plain in faith.  I don't want to overwhelm her nor do I care to talk about it with my dad.  I just get this whole religious intolerance with him.  All the grudges he hasn't against people that have wronged him, he puts on me.  I can only love him and ask him not to drag me into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a religious void with my family.  I find no hope when I'm with family because there isn't much for me to say.  I know I need to open up, but how do I do it without all this bias of conservatism, republican ideology, and past acts of people who are "Christian" wronging them?  I'm called to love others and thats all it matters.  To love homosexuals, liberals, anime club kids, the homeless, the ones that don't care for religion, and for those who people don't look at.  But how am I suppose to love my own family when it isn't something on their radar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel speechless with them.  I'm left with few words and it hurts.  I want them to understand, but I can't.  I feel like I'm being a bastard to my own family.  Not willing to be as open as I can be and also with holding feelings and opinion because I don't know what to do.  Being the youngest suck cause I have to build  voice.  Yet I still don't have one.  Its more of a whisper.  I wish God could whisper into their hearts that he loves them.  And that they will be open and not hold judgement against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those that read this.  I wish I could say this to you, but I can't.  I'm still a child that hasn't fully grown up yet.  This is the little brother.  This is the box I have been living.  This is a piece of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being emotional and frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently Listening to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hillsong United - Till I See You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;The greatest love that anyone could ever know&lt;br /&gt;That overcame the cross and grave to find my soul&lt;br /&gt;And till I see You face to face and grace amazing takes me home&lt;br /&gt;I'll trust in You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all I am I'll live to see Your kingdom come&lt;br /&gt;And in my heart I pray You'd let Your will be done&lt;br /&gt;And till I see You face to face and grace amazing takes me home&lt;br /&gt;I'll trust in You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will live to love You&lt;br /&gt;I will live to bring You praise&lt;br /&gt;I will live a child in awe of You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a voice that called the universe to be&lt;br /&gt;You are the whisper in my heart that speaks to me&lt;br /&gt;And till I see You face to face and grace amazing takes me home&lt;br /&gt;I'll trust in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You alone are God of all&lt;br /&gt;You alone are worthy Lord&lt;br /&gt;And with all I am my soul will bless Your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wpy4mUmMuFE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wpy4mUmMuFE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3084120381368240021?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3084120381368240021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3084120381368240021' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3084120381368240021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3084120381368240021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-7406747810499960548</id><published>2007-08-23T01:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:54.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All for Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;(Verse 1)&lt;br /&gt;All for love a Father gave&lt;br /&gt;For only love could make a way&lt;br /&gt;All for love heavens cried&lt;br /&gt;For love was crucified&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;(Chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;Oh how many times have I broken Your heart&lt;br /&gt;But still You forgive&lt;br /&gt;If only I ask&lt;br /&gt;And how many times have You heard me pray&lt;br /&gt;Draw near to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I need, is You&lt;br /&gt;My beginning, my forever&lt;br /&gt;Everything I need, is You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Verse 3)&lt;br /&gt;Let me sing all for love&lt;br /&gt;I will join the angel song&lt;br /&gt;Ever holy is the Lord&lt;br /&gt;King of Glory&lt;br /&gt;King of all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;(Chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bridge)&lt;br /&gt;All for a love a Saviour prayed&lt;br /&gt;Abba Father have Your way&lt;br /&gt;Though they know not what they do&lt;br /&gt;Let the Cross draw man to You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="intelliTXT"&gt;Everything I need, is You&lt;br /&gt;My beginning, my forever&lt;br /&gt;Everything I need, is You&lt;br /&gt;(Repeat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xCy_j8Ty7jk"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xCy_j8Ty7jk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I post this because there are songs that touch my heart a lot.  The songs are simple but touch a very deep cord in my life.  On my &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/Darkside1985"&gt;other blog&lt;/a&gt;, yes two, I wrote something else.  But have been felt to write more.  This song is beautiful since it helps me really remind me why I am the way I am.  Love is what moves me to do the things I have done.  I wanted to be a businessman for my father for love and duty.  I come to Thailand even though I didn't want to (in the past) for love.  Yes, a lot of it was misguided love, but love non the less.  But lately love have been pushing me to greater things.  To love other before myself.  To not care about what I want to do, but what I can do for God.  Being at camp with my boys (even though they are young men) had  taught me so much.  Love brought me life.  Love brought me mercy and grace.  Love gave me life when I felt my world was gone.  Love gave me hope when I lost two friends.  Love gave me a reason to love my family.  Love helps me see what there is around me.  If I can't love myself above all since God has loved me.  Then how can I love people more?  I hope the love I have for God is able to spread out to others.  If not, I'm then its not "All for Love".  Its selfish and greedy love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*NOTE*&lt;br /&gt;I went to Mt. Rainer before camp and had fun.  Here are pics from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyI7KnGI/AAAAAAAAACc/-JZ4oOvFSfM/s1600-h/P10008510.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyI7KnGI/AAAAAAAAACc/-JZ4oOvFSfM/s320/P10008510.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101822775199964258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyY7KnII/AAAAAAAAACs/wJxETX1CeCU/s1600-h/832781250306_0_BG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyY7KnII/AAAAAAAAACs/wJxETX1CeCU/s320/832781250306_0_BG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101822779494931586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyI7KnHI/AAAAAAAAACk/yBgL5TjF-bw/s1600-h/306891250306_0_ALB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyI7KnHI/AAAAAAAAACk/yBgL5TjF-bw/s320/306891250306_0_ALB.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101822775199964274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1Qy47KnJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nJE_L6YBtLg/s1600-h/DSC00139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1Qy47KnJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/nJE_L6YBtLg/s320/DSC00139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101822788084866194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-7406747810499960548?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/7406747810499960548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=7406747810499960548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7406747810499960548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7406747810499960548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/all-for-love.html' title='All for Love'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rs1QyI7KnGI/AAAAAAAAACc/-JZ4oOvFSfM/s72-c/P10008510.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-5938571900355591111</id><published>2007-08-19T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:55.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding an old love of mine</title><content type='html'>In high school I used to help out with VBS (Vacation Bible School) .  But because of family situation I had to give it up and was unable to help for many years.  To make up for the lack of VBS I wanted to serve for Mt. Hermon.  Mt. Hermon helped me define who I was in faith and was a foundation in my life.  Because of this, I was able to be a stronger person in myself and find myself in high school.  Because of this, I wanted to serve and give back the organization that gave so much to me.  So I started to help with Inter-High for Mt. Hermon.  I loved the experience and the time there, but I also got lost in myself as well.  I was doing it to hide something within me.  It was that I was unable to confront the things in my life and so broke down.  I have become different and new because I was tired of being something I wasn't.  I was able to grow and become something greater and better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a 100% better though, there are things that need to be taken care of.  But being offered to help with Warm Beach this year for the same organization for Mt. Hermon was awesome.  I was able to serve with teenagers who are growing up to be men.  The question is, are they men of God?  How can they achieve that?  What can I do to help them?  For me to achieve an answer I had to be something more than I know myself to be.  I had to be open and vunerable for them.  If I wasn't then I couldn't reach out to them.  I had to show the pains of my life so that they knew I understood them.  Hearing Pastor John Kim talk about this touched me.  He said, "We experience pain and suffering so that we are able to help those who are going through the same thing.  If we don't, then how can we reach out to those when we don't understand their situation?" Because of this I have become more comfortable with my past.  A lack of a father figure in high school, death of friends my senior year, and anger management issues in middle school.  Many of these things are things that not many people can relate to.&lt;br /&gt;I can relate more to a kid who is from a broken family that wanted and needed attention or affirmations.  I have that now, but I know how it feels to not have it in the past.  Losing friends from suicide and cancer takes its toll on a teenager who shouldn't have to experience such a thing at a young age.  I have learned to cope and move on.  Being a angry kid because of the way I looked and not knowing an outlet to find that I could focus in a constructive way.  My middle school teacher invested time and life lessons to me helped me control and not lash out at others.  If it wasn't for these pains and suffering I could never understand what goes on when there is so much pain in suffering in someone else's life.  Even though I have been given much and many of my sufferings are little.  I have been blessed immensly that I have no other choice, but to give it to others.  If I don't then I would be doing more damage to myself than helping.  I can't contain what I have been given.  It can't be horded to one person.  Its to be given to those that need blessings.  To those that don't have what I have.  For those that aren't able to see what I've seen.  To help those not make the same mistakes I have made in life.  To invest into those that need just one person to love and even just reach out a hand to help them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been blessed by sacrificing my body and time for these young men.  Even though I did nothing great.  God was able to create something beautiful.  I can only serve and hope that my heart lead them to God.  I can't do anything but warn them and advise them how to live their lives.  Not to live in a vicious cycle of emptiness that the world offers.  But of something that brings joy and love to people.  That makes them feel whole in life and can live for another day.  To find hope when darkness surrounds them.  If I can give a little of this to these men, then thats all I ask.  I want to invest in these men what people have invested in me: Love.  Above all else, love helps move and make people better.  Without love, there isn't much we can do until we break down.  Love will always remain there and waiting.  Because God loves us so much.  Without God and love, there is no life to live.  Without love, God wouldn't let us be us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving Love to those that need Love&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5uI7KnBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/8_rKUOCoHfg/s1600-h/P1000873.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5uI7KnBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/8_rKUOCoHfg/s320/P1000873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100671517806205970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5uo7KnCI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Lau-aE2VDLM/s1600-h/P1000922.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5uo7KnCI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Lau-aE2VDLM/s320/P1000922.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100671526396140578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5u47KnDI/AAAAAAAAACE/QdRRtGGRhqE/s1600-h/P1000925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5u47KnDI/AAAAAAAAACE/QdRRtGGRhqE/s320/P1000925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100671530691107890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5vI7KnEI/AAAAAAAAACM/TEWDRK6gsik/s1600-h/P1010170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5vI7KnEI/AAAAAAAAACM/TEWDRK6gsik/s320/P1010170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100671534986075202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5vY7KnFI/AAAAAAAAACU/Dcm2NPuYmaw/s1600-h/P1010171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5vY7KnFI/AAAAAAAAACU/Dcm2NPuYmaw/s320/P1010171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100671539281042514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-5938571900355591111?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/5938571900355591111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=5938571900355591111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5938571900355591111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/5938571900355591111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/finding-old-love-of-mine.html' title='Finding an old love of mine'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/Rsk5uI7KnBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/8_rKUOCoHfg/s72-c/P1000873.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-6547645784009456435</id><published>2007-08-08T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:56.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let loose!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMM30QjVI/AAAAAAAAABc/YR9dY2M0FWE/s1600-h/P1000811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMM30QjVI/AAAAAAAAABc/YR9dY2M0FWE/s320/P1000811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096258606115884370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMNX0QjWI/AAAAAAAAABk/CdgMkrZKfak/s1600-h/P1000812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMNX0QjWI/AAAAAAAAABk/CdgMkrZKfak/s320/P1000812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096258614705818978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMM30QjUI/AAAAAAAAABU/xi7q62BHWoE/s1600-h/P1000781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMM30QjUI/AAAAAAAAABU/xi7q62BHWoE/s320/P1000781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096258606115884354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMNn0QjXI/AAAAAAAAABs/MfQ4EPgWaAA/s1600-h/P1000814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMNn0QjXI/AAAAAAAAABs/MfQ4EPgWaAA/s320/P1000814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096258619000786290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to a concert and had a great time at it.  Got to sing my heart out and just let so much inside be sung.  The words leaving my lips and knowing that I meant every word was great.  And the songs that didn't move me were just as great cause I got to be still and just listen.  I love the moments I get to spend time with God.  Even in a pit of people singing and screaming.  Its great to be in once and awhile.  Now I'll recover from it and go to the Family Fun Center today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care and good bye&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-6547645784009456435?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/6547645784009456435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=6547645784009456435' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6547645784009456435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/6547645784009456435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/let-loose.html' title='Let loose!'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrmMM30QjVI/AAAAAAAAABc/YR9dY2M0FWE/s72-c/P1000811.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2878340385436084691</id><published>2007-08-07T00:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T00:54:28.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Longing and relationship</title><content type='html'>Temptation is a beast that knows me too well.  Especially in certain aspects in my life.  For being a person who is affectionate in personal means also begs to receive the same means of affection.  But sadly there aren't many people willing or understanding of reciprocating such things.  But I wonder and question where did this idea come from for me?  Why do I feel this way?  But sadly I don't know the question to this answer.  I know that seeing my oldest brother and my new sister is amazing.  A bit of jealousy and longing for their relationship creeps from me.  A sense of loneliness is there and its hard at times to ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that this feeling of longing someone to love and have it being returned started at 13 yrs of age.  I don't know if it was how I was living or just the hormonal beast inside of me longing for physical love.  But its weird cause I have the love of my parents and family.  But I don't have this woman or princess in my life.  Being a teenager and a sappy romantic has been annoying.  Visioning a walk on the beach in the moonlight and just holding hands have always been in my mind.  Telling people how to say love in different languages just to say to their loved one.  "I just wanted to say, "I love you", in more than one language".  Seemed so easy for me to tell others.  Envisioning a warm embrace or someone to talk to has bugged me for at least 9yrs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in my faith, I find the love of God to be something I cherish and hold onto.  If it wasn't for that love I wouldn't have survived high school.  Those years were full of bitterness and hiding.  When people asked me how I was, my reply was, "tired".  But that "tired" at time was of life, of family, of friends, of loneliness, and sometimes myself.  Asking prayers for God to kill one self hasn't been the best prayer I said.  Not willing to commit suicide, but praying for death isn't the best thing.  I always wished that I could of died, but seeing two friends die changed that.  It was sad and hardening.  It was full of shock and anguish.  I didn't want to cause so many people such pain in suffering because of my death.  I want people to appreciate life more and cherish the moments they have.  Not fill people with question and doubt about who and what they are and if they were a loving friend or family to me.  That scared me and changed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to the point.  Love or loving someone.  What do I do?  I had someone I love and still love.  But I can't go back to it.  Not that I don't want to, but I can't do it.  I'm not a coward, but I don't want to suffer and strain myself to feel such ways.  Also I've had crushes on people who are close to me at times and basically had to cut off or distance the relationship.  Not because I don't like them or not want to be with them.  But to really force myself to give up on hope of them liking me.  It was a way for me not to be hurt and hurt myself.  I don't want to lead myself to such conclusions when I know that nothing can happen.  I'm just not that person the average girls likes or want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the "nice guy".  The guy you know that will be understanding and patient and looks for the best for you.  The one that you feel safe being around cause they aren't threatening or aggressive enough to do anything dumb.  Girls don't care for that kind of thing at a young age.  It just doesn't matter to them.  They want the rebel, the jock, or the stud.  Something that catches their eye.  Yet I'm just the plain guy who waits and hopes for something in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there is some exaggeration in it or a way for people to pity, but that is what I see it.  I am not desperate to change myself to fit someone cause I long for someone that badly.  But I am the guy that waits and twiddles his thumb waiting and hoping that a girl will find him and hope they could be loved by him.  But I'm young.  I'm 22yrs old.  I haven't lived a life full of things and wants.  I'm just plain and simple.  A teddy bear that is loved by children and ignored for long periods of time later in life.  Willing and able to love when the moments come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I'm just being impatient and sadly trying to play a sad sad song on a voilin.  But I've been overflowing with this feeling that I need an outlet of some kind to get this out of me.  Yes I want a girlfriend, but no I don't need it now.  All I know that once I have a girlfriend.  My problems are the same and that having her in my life won't make them go away.  But it will help me to go forth with someone I know that I can go for help or encouragement in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longing for love&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2878340385436084691?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2878340385436084691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2878340385436084691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2878340385436084691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2878340385436084691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/longing-and-relationship.html' title='Longing and relationship'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1866270879059642312</id><published>2007-08-05T02:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T02:01:34.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So sad</title><content type='html'>So I was testing this add-on I have on mozilla to download videos from youtube and stuff.  But it wouldn't work so I went to video.google.com  I saw one of the top rated videos and saw this one: &lt;a target="_new" href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=807885014283530747"&gt;http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=807885014283530747&lt;/a&gt;  It really isn't anything special and you'll understand the illusion about half way of the video.  Later I went to the website and browsed the forums.  &lt;a target="_new" href="http://whywontgodhealamputees.com/"&gt;http://whywontgodhealamputees.com/&lt;/a&gt;  It was sad to see how the church at times does get caught up with itself and everything.  But at the same time people forget that the church is made up of people that aren't perfect.  Neither should they feel or act as if they are or better than the non-Christian.  In the end its just sad to see people forgetting to love others and understanding that sometimes both sides are holding higher standards that we are capable of.  Oh well, I'm rooted in what I believe and if you talk to me, you;ll understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly done&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1866270879059642312?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1866270879059642312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1866270879059642312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1866270879059642312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1866270879059642312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/so-sad.html' title='So sad'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1623561295318345422</id><published>2007-08-02T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:56.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLCN30QjQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/3LX_I0swZS0/s1600-h/P1000682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLCN30QjQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/3LX_I0swZS0/s320/P1000682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094347672086678786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week was long and fun.  I enjoyed a lot of it and the was pretty tired from all the things I did with the kiddies.  They are so great to be with and it was weird to have a kid run and jump like a monkey. Of course I would catch him, but I had to brace myself at the same time.  But I couldn't blame him for doing such things cause he was having a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to a retreat the that weekend and was busy with that as well.  I hadn't felt so happy doing youth ministry in awhile.  Remember why I loved doing this was a good reminder.  Spending time with kids and trying to help them as they tried to think through life and starting to make their own decision.  It was good to help them build confidence in such things.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLD9X0QjSI/AAAAAAAAABE/rxLkPYR3K_8/s1600-h/P1000691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLD9X0QjSI/AAAAAAAAABE/rxLkPYR3K_8/s320/P1000691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094349587642092834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been weird cause I'm stuck in limbo.  The old part of me just wants to relax and take things easy.  But at the same time the other half of me want to get a job and find work.  But the conflicting part is that my family wants to spend time with me.  Its weird.  I thought I explained thing well to them at the same time, but obviously I haven't gave them enough time to get used to the change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLFIX0QjTI/AAAAAAAAABM/w1iNYW5d_L4/s1600-h/P1000648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLFIX0QjTI/AAAAAAAAABM/w1iNYW5d_L4/s320/P1000648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094350876132281650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm still going to find a job, but I just don't want to feel stuck like I have been in the past. I just have to figure something out.  Redefining myself is frustrating cause I have to change how I deal with people.  I'm tired of putting myself too much on the line and getting burned.  Sadly I've been jaded, tired, and worn down from what I used to do.  I sadly lost a piece of myself and grown up to defend and not take the punishment I assumed I deserve.   On that note I end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1623561295318345422?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1623561295318345422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1623561295318345422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1623561295318345422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1623561295318345422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/08/last-week.html' title='Last week'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RrLCN30QjQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/3LX_I0swZS0/s72-c/P1000682.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-4692498097132299802</id><published>2007-07-24T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T03:36:17.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GRRRRRRRRR &gt;:(</title><content type='html'>So I had a talk with a friend and my emotions got the best of me.  And sadly to say this isn't the first time its happened with this friend.  Sigh (deep breath).  I hate the fact I got caught up with the wedding and the friends dating that I just want on to.  Not necessarily that I need it now, but more or less I feel "entitled" to it or I am jealous that I don't have it :\  Because of this I'm fighting with my mind about suspicions and wondering what the hell is wrong with me.  Oh how I wish I could be a kid and show affection by being mean.  Those days were simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some form of Limbo&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-4692498097132299802?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/4692498097132299802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=4692498097132299802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4692498097132299802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/4692498097132299802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/grrrrrrrrr.html' title='GRRRRRRRRR &gt;:('/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-8671797992165265840</id><published>2007-07-19T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T14:49:06.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm "home", I think</title><content type='html'>So I'm back in the states and now I have the task to get a job.  Yeah, I'm lame I know.  It shouldn't be that hard since its a part time job, but as long as I try my best.  Then I can't get mad.  If anything I should start working out when I get back.  Maybe do some push-ups and sit up at my house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-8671797992165265840?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/8671797992165265840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=8671797992165265840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/8671797992165265840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/8671797992165265840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-home-i-think.html' title='I&apos;m &quot;home&quot;, I think'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-3012876285679235437</id><published>2007-07-15T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T09:21:13.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Was in Sinapore and now SingaTired</title><content type='html'>So I was in Singapore and I saw my sister and her friend.  It was fun and entertaining to see a clean and orderly place.  Also it was odd having everyone know or speak english.  That really threw me off cause I'm just waiting for people to say something in Chinese or something else.  But no, they just speak english.  Also I'm not a fan of Merlion spit, but then again they aren't real so it wasn't that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I hate being orderly and conscience of certain things.  For example: Thinking that your place is boarding and that its closing soon and running all the way there to find out.  Wrong flight, you have enough time and freaking out over nothing ~_~  Dear Lord, what is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might post of pictures, but I'm tired and doing another 2 day, 1 night trip AGAIN X|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing off&lt;br /&gt;LB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-3012876285679235437?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/3012876285679235437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=3012876285679235437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3012876285679235437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/3012876285679235437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/was-in-sinapore-and-now-singatired.html' title='Was in Sinapore and now SingaTired'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-2832641813930925773</id><published>2007-07-13T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T04:36:23.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean bill of health</title><content type='html'>So I went to the hospital and had a full check up.  Blood test, urine test, x-ray, and cholesteral reading.  So the results were awesome, cause I'm good and healthy.  Even with my weight and eating regimine I seem to be average.  So I don't mind if I start excercising cause then I'll be super cool and awesome.  FLEX!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-2832641813930925773?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/2832641813930925773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=2832641813930925773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2832641813930925773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/2832641813930925773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/clean-bill-of-health.html' title='Clean bill of health'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-7185685034470307574</id><published>2007-07-10T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:57.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>The biggest anomaly is family.  I've finally have made amends with some and problems that didn't seem as bad as before have arose.  When will I ever find peace of mind with family?  But then again I think I've made great strides with family over the past few years with them.  I'm more vocal, more social, more loving and excepting of who they are.  I'm not blaming other, if not blaming myself for the problems that occurred between me and my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpPJesKH03I/AAAAAAAAAAs/UNzMKCYW_TM/s1600-h/LL415.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpPJesKH03I/AAAAAAAAAAs/UNzMKCYW_TM/s320/LL415.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085629933318296434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But it gets frustrating to deal with family at times cause there is never a time or place where we can just be happy with each other and enjoy the company we have.  What happened to the good old time of our childhood?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-7185685034470307574?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/7185685034470307574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=7185685034470307574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7185685034470307574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/7185685034470307574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpPJesKH03I/AAAAAAAAAAs/UNzMKCYW_TM/s72-c/LL415.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-1988175206398373244</id><published>2007-07-10T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T15:42:57.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not as bad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6PsKH0zI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hqCrKM0dkeM/s1600-h/DSC02439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6PsKH0zI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hqCrKM0dkeM/s320/DSC02439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085472445457486642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my recovery rate is much faster than last year.  But then again I don't like having this feeling though.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6QcKH01I/AAAAAAAAAAc/vSQ9uXsO7uA/s1600-h/DSC03186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6QcKH01I/AAAAAAAAAAc/vSQ9uXsO7uA/s320/DSC03186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085472458342388562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its also sad to see everyone leaving and everyone going back to their lives before the wedding.  But here are some good pictures that I have.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6QMKH00I/AAAAAAAAAAU/nAdU2DDaZzQ/s1600-h/DSC02470.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6QMKH00I/AAAAAAAAAAU/nAdU2DDaZzQ/s320/DSC02470.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085472454047421250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-1988175206398373244?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/1988175206398373244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=1988175206398373244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1988175206398373244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/1988175206398373244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/not-as-bad.html' title='Not as bad'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-nldI3IWl8U/RpM6PsKH0zI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hqCrKM0dkeM/s72-c/DSC02439.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-835409315329059370</id><published>2007-07-09T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T06:44:13.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DAMN YOU BODY!</title><content type='html'>Yea so since my brother's wedding is over and all.  My body has decided to collapse from within.  My throat hurts the most and pretty much can't do anything about it unless I use Listerine and dry heave for a bit.  But honestly I wouldn't have it any other way.  Cause I was able to share the moment with my brother and enjoy the time I spent with him and my new sister.  I just hope that I can recover quickly and at least send the couple off to their honeymoon.  Pictures to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - 8:43PM I want to throw up :\  Gotta buck up and sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-835409315329059370?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/835409315329059370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=835409315329059370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/835409315329059370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/835409315329059370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/damn-you-body.html' title='DAMN YOU BODY!'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3757147360246767437.post-550310688280319990</id><published>2007-07-08T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T13:22:46.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For those who read this</title><content type='html'>Stalkers out there (especially family members)  I have changed over to this to see how it goes.  If all else fails, then I shall return.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3757147360246767437-550310688280319990?l=bjkc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/feeds/550310688280319990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3757147360246767437&amp;postID=550310688280319990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/550310688280319990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3757147360246767437/posts/default/550310688280319990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bjkc.blogspot.com/2007/07/for-those-who-read-this.html' title='For those who read this'/><author><name>Little brother syndrome</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15809771568179524830</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
