<?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-5432093</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:56:37.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Insightful</title><subtitle type='html'>Come and listen to my babblings about nothing. Some people might find this shallow, while others very deep. I guess it depends on your state of mind (or if you're on something).</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5432093.post-115738701435279021</id><published>2006-09-04T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T09:23:34.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's nice to think that life could happen, that I could live and really feel it.It's a nice thought.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/115738701435279021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=115738701435279021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/115738701435279021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/115738701435279021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-nice-to-think-that-life-could.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-110675376688423570</id><published>2005-01-26T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T07:36:06.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What is the point of hanging a sign on the door when nobody reads it?I have a door knob sign that says "Do Not Enter, Please Knock First" that my mom made for me a few years ago. Now that I have my own room again (which is a whole different story) I would like to have my privacy back. I've considered moving out again, but right now that doesn't look like a good idea. The only place I could go is</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/110675376688423570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=110675376688423570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/110675376688423570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/110675376688423570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2005/01/what-is-point-of-hanging-sign-on-door.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-109552226858991535</id><published>2004-09-18T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T08:44:28.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If money is a curse, it's one I would like to be fortunate enough to have.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/109552226858991535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=109552226858991535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109552226858991535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109552226858991535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/09/if-money-is-curse-its-one-i-would-like.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-109544570579375546</id><published>2004-09-17T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T11:28:25.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am Echo by your side, as you gaze upon yourself. I cannot say what I wish you to know, and I may never say it aloud. And though I'm miserable, I may never venture on, for I swore to you my soul.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/109544570579375546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=109544570579375546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544570579375546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544570579375546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-am-echo-by-your-side-as-you-gaze.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-109544522401368485</id><published>2004-09-17T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T11:20:24.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In relationships, it seems that the first serious relationship takes your heart and soul, the next is just to get over the first, and when one finally feels like settling down, they settle for whoever seems reasonable.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/109544522401368485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=109544522401368485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544522401368485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544522401368485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/09/in-relationships-it-seems-that-first.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-109544502180870049</id><published>2004-09-17T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T11:17:01.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Guys often like to console themselves with the idea that the ones they love will be happier with someone else.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/109544502180870049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=109544502180870049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544502180870049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109544502180870049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/09/guys-often-like-to-console-themselves.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-109467409638034040</id><published>2004-09-08T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T13:10:09.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I almost never post about my life, but lately it's been more interesting than anything else I might be able to post about. Two months ago I lived in California with my family and I had no idea I was going to be moving to Texas. My boss's mom was having problems running two Motels and a restraunt and they needed someone to help out with odd jobs, so my boss sent me over to help her mom out. I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/109467409638034040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=109467409638034040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109467409638034040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/109467409638034040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-almost-never-post-about-my-life-but.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-108127948128543916</id><published>2004-04-06T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T08:54:28.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>From the time you are born you are fed information about the world, and not everyone processes it the same way. People block each other out because of ignorance or self-indulgence or belief that the way they see the world is the only way in which it is meant to be seen. To some degree everyone lives in their own self-created reality. To get along with a person it's just a matter of having a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/108127948128543916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/108127948128543916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/04/from-time-you-are-born-you-are-fed.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5432093.post-108023411232344660</id><published>2004-03-25T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T09:04:23.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>With all the viruses out there you would think that Norton is actually creating them to get buisness.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/108023411232344660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=108023411232344660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/108023411232344660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/108023411232344660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2004/03/with-all-viruses-out-there-you-would.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-107006212002270338</id><published>2003-11-28T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T13:12:08.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My predictions for the year 2004:Metal lunchboxes will become many 3rd graders' weapon of choice.Shopping cart racing will become a big activity among teens.Many people will start getting daimond implants on their teeth; Dr. Hong's buisness will grow.Eminem will make videos from neverland, rapping about "Peter" and the lost boys.Kindergardeners will sing a new nursery rhyme when comets hit </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/107006212002270338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/107006212002270338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/11/my-predictions-for-year-2004-metal.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5432093.post-105994008364956022</id><published>2003-08-03T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-08-03T12:48:03.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was thinking yesterday about how people keep wearing less and less clothes. Eventually we're going to be down to no clothes and there won't be any more nudist colonies, instead there will be modest colonies.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/105994008364956022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=105994008364956022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105994008364956022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105994008364956022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/08/i-was-thinking-yesterday-about-how.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-105746558681360913</id><published>2003-07-05T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-12-22T16:36:16.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Originally 2 posts:If I delay washing the dog, I'm actually adding a few days before the next time I have to wash her. By delaying it I make it so it's less expected to be done on time and it will add as long as I delay to the time of the next dog wash. For those of you who don't know me, I'm extremely lazy.2 days later:I washed the dog yesterday only to find her covered in crap this morning</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/105746558681360913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=105746558681360913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105746558681360913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105746558681360913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/07/originally-2-posts-if-i-delay-washing.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-105426495535045765</id><published>2003-05-29T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-06-07T18:57:13.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What is the reason we're here on this planet? That is a question that millions have asked and found no answer to. My friend Crystal says that the meaning of life is finding something worth living for and dying for at the same time. Obviously nobody would die for an object... You would never die to save your big screen TV or your beautiful new car, right? What good would that do you? When you're </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/105426495535045765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=105426495535045765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105426495535045765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105426495535045765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/05/what-is-reason-were-here-on-this.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-105409331119710493</id><published>2003-05-27T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-27T20:41:51.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My Life (Abridged Version) I was born and I am living and someday I will die. The End </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/105409331119710493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=105409331119710493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105409331119710493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105409331119710493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/05/my-life-abridged-version-i-was-born.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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-5432093.post-105408606100460558</id><published>2003-05-27T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-12-22T16:38:26.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why do people talk about nothing? Isn't there something more interesting to talk about? I guess there must not be anything interesting enough to talk about, if even I'm talking about nothing. That's what this blog is all about... Nothing. If there was something more interesting than nothing I'm sure I would have written about that instead. Isn't the concept of nothing interesting though? In the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/feeds/105408606100460558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5432093&amp;postID=105408606100460558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105408606100460558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5432093/posts/default/105408606100460558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jinka.blogspot.com/2003/05/why-do-people-talk-about-nothing-isnt.html' title=''/><author><name>FurbyWithESP</name><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>
