<?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-4833108765691846039</id><updated>2011-07-20T07:44:05.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shades of S</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>S on the prowl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15011627721398310968</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>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833108765691846039.post-3973790757603021998</id><published>2007-11-15T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T03:24:54.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SHADOWS</title><content type='html'>Shadows creeping stealthily&lt;br /&gt;ready to rob away&lt;br /&gt;Scrapping at the core&lt;br /&gt;till I'm all bare&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4833108765691846039-3973790757603021998?l=sophiesshades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/feeds/3973790757603021998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4833108765691846039&amp;postID=3973790757603021998' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/3973790757603021998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/3973790757603021998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/2007/11/shadows.html' title='SHADOWS'/><author><name>S on the prowl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15011627721398310968</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833108765691846039.post-8456859505368300606</id><published>2007-11-13T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:40:52.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWILIGHT IN THE HORIZON</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Loathing...Caring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;All the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The world's like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Who is to blame???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Blinding lights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;disturb one's sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Billboard hoardings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Crazy nights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Twilight in the horizon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sun setting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Women out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;In black stockings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Whom are we calling?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Whom are we mocking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Whom are we stalking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;While we are sleep walking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Arms out in alms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;While we are guzzling ale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;People greasing palms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;While humanity fails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;This is the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;we live in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What's a blessing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What's a sin?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4833108765691846039-8456859505368300606?l=sophiesshades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/feeds/8456859505368300606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4833108765691846039&amp;postID=8456859505368300606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/8456859505368300606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/8456859505368300606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/2007/11/twilight-in-horizon.html' title='TWILIGHT IN THE HORIZON'/><author><name>S on the prowl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15011627721398310968</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-4833108765691846039.post-6913940788462453991</id><published>2007-11-06T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T03:27:40.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SNIPPITY SNAP - Black, White and shades of Grey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am homeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My home has been destroyed, snatched away from me. She, who swore to love me till the end of time had left me for another. The home we had built together now has no place for me. The doors are firmly shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am dead.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Walking around, breathing, existing but in reality I cease to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to live.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;How is the question? Ah, have a ceremony and let go of the past and start a new life.&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, with a bottle of beer in hand. Have collected all the memorabilia of the good times we had together. I have to release it now. I get my dustbin and start tearing the letters, the cards, the post-its that sat on the fridge a few of it were reminders of some chore to perform but most of them said the same thing ‘I love you’, then our pictures, as I tore them a part of me was dying wasn’t one supposed to feel better when you are in the process of releasing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am mourning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I open another bottle of beer. I take a chair and place it in front of the full length mirror, get some old newspaper and carefully arrange them around. I take the scissors and the cutting blade park myself in the chair and start cutting off my hair. I am staring in the mirror as I cut off my curly locks. I am superstitious about cutting my hair at night but heck what more can go wrong and slowly all the doubts, all the pain is leaving me I feel as if I am being born again. Snip, snip, snip, it feels great. Something is changing. I feel empowered, totally in control. I have to call a few friends since I am starting a new life and clear our differences, let go of the anger that I feel towards them, let them know how I feel, I have to get rid of all the garbage inside me. My hands are trembling as I make the first call, I am staring in the mirror, my hair is now about an inch in length. I shall now use the cutter.&lt;br /&gt;My friend is on the line. She hears my voice and cannot really understand what I am saying. I am crying, going at the rate of a thousand words per minute. So I have a gulp of beer and take a deep breath, stop crying and say my piece. Snap. That was the end of our friendship but I felt good. I take the cutter and get back to work I am in control. I make my other call. Snap. Same result. Its weird here I am scissors and cutter in hand going snip, snip, snip and my relations are going snap, snap, snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am reborn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I am sitting and admiring myself in the mirror. My hair is strewn on the newspaper lying on the floor. I call out to my mother and sister who come into the room. They look like they have seen a ghost.&lt;br /&gt;"What have you done?"&lt;br /&gt;"Are you okay?"&lt;br /&gt;I explain to them, my mother does not seem to understand.&lt;br /&gt;"Give me the scissors and that cutter."&lt;br /&gt;"Mummy I would have slit my throat if I wanted to, this is what I wanted. I want to live. I am free from the past and free from pain. Be happy for me for I have overcome. I am bald but not naked, I am more aware."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am free&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am alone again. The time is 9.00 pm. I am listening to music and am drinking beer. My sister walks in and is speaking to me, she understands me. I am happily talking to her, sharing, we have not done this in a long time. The process of shaving my head bald got me closer to my sister and alienated me from a few friends but such is life. I change the music, am singing along, crying along. I am cleansing my soul.&lt;br /&gt;It is 2.00 am and I am 7 beers down. All this while I am still sitting opposite the mirror and have been watching each thought that crossed my mind. I could see them clearly. I understood now. The door opens and she walks in. I think I am dreaming now, then I see my mother standing behind her. She has flown in from a city where my home &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;used&lt;/span&gt; to be.&lt;br /&gt;"I am here now everything is going to be fine. I have come to take you back with me."&lt;br /&gt;I am bald; maybe I should have done this earlier.&lt;br /&gt;I smile sheepishly. All of a sudden I feel like a child. I just want to follow I want to go home. I want to feel safe again in the haven of her embrace. I want to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I hear them talking. She is making a call, arranging for my ticket.&lt;br /&gt;I am going home………..&lt;br /&gt;I quickly throw away the hair in the dustbin, pack my suitcase. We chat for a while; she is smiling, running her hand on my bald head. It is 6.ooam now it is time to leave. My mother is crying and so is my sister I tell them it’s only a 2 hour flight and I will visit them soon. We leave.&lt;br /&gt;I am going home.&lt;br /&gt;SOPHIE MURPHY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S The call was not to arrange for a ticket but a call to the psychiatrist. The taxi did not take me to the airport but to the asylum. I had fallen asleep on her lap and when she woke me all I could see was her face. Then the blur….did not know what was happening and when I realized it was too late for me. My baldness was my insanity.&lt;br /&gt;I am in an asylum.&lt;br /&gt;Yes life has changed.&lt;br /&gt;It’s been 2 years now and my hair has grown, soon they say I can go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4833108765691846039-6913940788462453991?l=sophiesshades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/feeds/6913940788462453991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4833108765691846039&amp;postID=6913940788462453991' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/6913940788462453991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/6913940788462453991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/2007/11/snippity-snap-black-white-and-shades-of.html' title='SNIPPITY SNAP - Black, White and shades of Grey'/><author><name>S on the prowl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15011627721398310968</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833108765691846039.post-3302476105621829187</id><published>2007-11-01T02:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T02:53:34.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shades</title><content type='html'>My blog name should have been The Wandering Gypsy, but well that's just one trait of mine. Colorful thats how my life is.....so Shades of S suits fine.&lt;br /&gt;The sour....&lt;br /&gt;The sweet ......&lt;br /&gt;The sexy .......&lt;br /&gt;Sensible&lt;br /&gt;Over sensitive&lt;br /&gt;Emotional&lt;br /&gt;The ever seeking me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4833108765691846039-3302476105621829187?l=sophiesshades.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/feeds/3302476105621829187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4833108765691846039&amp;postID=3302476105621829187' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/3302476105621829187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4833108765691846039/posts/default/3302476105621829187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sophiesshades.blogspot.com/2007/11/shades.html' title='Shades'/><author><name>S on the prowl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15011627721398310968</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>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
