<?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-230020226496887926</id><updated>2011-07-28T21:40:13.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naya'sConcept</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-6212147744746532990</id><published>2009-07-02T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T21:47:15.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Rock my World!!!!!!!!!!! Rest easy MJ</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/Sk2NLhXllMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/M40UlYuVXxg/s1600-h/micheal+J.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354090761088767170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/Sk2NLhXllMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/M40UlYuVXxg/s400/micheal+J.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You rocked my world, you know you did&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And everything I own I give&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rarest love, who'd think I'd findSomeone like you to call mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You rocked my world, you know you did&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And everything I own I giveThe rarest love, who'd think I'd find&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone like you to call mine"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow…I have been listening to that song, along with many others, over and over for the past few days. Needless to say how great that man truly was, but it almost safe to say how he was actually a living sacrifice for us. I mean he was doing his thing from the age of 5 and since then attained heights that none have or ever will, paving the way for us, especially black artists. Hands down, he was and still is the Greatest. Yea he’s BAD. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-6212147744746532990?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/6212147744746532990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-rock-my-world-rest-easy-mj.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/6212147744746532990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/6212147744746532990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-rock-my-world-rest-easy-mj.html' title='You Rock my World!!!!!!!!!!! Rest easy MJ'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/Sk2NLhXllMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/M40UlYuVXxg/s72-c/micheal+J.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-944187446514717596</id><published>2009-06-13T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T21:45:58.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of Fed up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SjR-1k77-JI/AAAAAAAAAFE/qwJ2GlawSDw/s1600-h/fed+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347038116508858514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SjR-1k77-JI/AAAAAAAAAFE/qwJ2GlawSDw/s320/fed+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So its a saturday night and I'm sitting here writting a blog, not that I don't enjoy this, but I kind of had other plans for this beautiful warm night. You see, summer class has taken a real toll in the time spent between M and I, I mean it can easily be said that in the past 4 weeks we probably saw eachother about 4-5 times max. Not that I do not respect his consecration to school ( in fact it makes me very proud) but, I do expect to be anticipated for at the end of a hectic exam filled week. But no, there is no such emotion in the tone of his voice. Our conversation settled for "how was your night", "I'm ok and yourself", "ok I'll talk to you later". This was the only day until next week he and I have to just spend some time and not worry about school, work or wtv. But no. I'm here on a saturday night feeling a little silly. Not to say that I couldnt do something else, most of my friends want to hit clubs, but I really wasnt in the mood, I was rather wanting M to call me over so we could have a lil BBQ, watch some fresh prince, bake some brownies. But no such words were emitted. In fact no phone call ever came till I called him up at 11pm to see if he was still breathing, well he was breathing alright alongside music and a chorcaol grill, chilling at a BBQ.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You might wonder why not make an initiative myself, well the things is, I always do and right now I wanted to see what would happen if I loosened my side of the rope. Well I got my answer: his side was always loose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, on the brighter side I did some satistics today :) and I can wake up bright and early for church tomorow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No need to Complicate,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Naya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-944187446514717596?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/944187446514717596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/06/kind-of-fed-up.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/944187446514717596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/944187446514717596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/06/kind-of-fed-up.html' title='Kind of Fed up'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SjR-1k77-JI/AAAAAAAAAFE/qwJ2GlawSDw/s72-c/fed+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-8322654848600125438</id><published>2009-05-20T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T18:41:33.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dusty Foot Philosopher</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/ShSrN52CHuI/AAAAAAAAAE8/lpkW7t5VjCg/s1600-h/k%27naan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338079713694981858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/ShSrN52CHuI/AAAAAAAAAE8/lpkW7t5VjCg/s320/k%27naan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I get older, I will be stronger,They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A poet, a singer, a philosopher, a rapper...a true artist: K'naan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok I am not even going to front; walking into the showroom I expected a cool performance from K'naan, since I only heard a few songs and was not well acquainted with his lyrical refinement, but Boy! was I blown. This young man is the perfect emulation of REAL. You can tell that his every word comes from deep within his mind and hearth, and was not written to solely entertain onlookers; but to carry us on a melodious journey that gratifies our ears, yet challenges our mind and elevates our soul. In other words, he was DOPE. His stage presence was uncomprimised and his musical delivery quite flattering.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There aren't many artist who dare to tell stories with their songs, I mean, thats was how it was back in the day right, story through song, expression through music. But nowadays either people are all feeling the same things which explains the uncanny lyrical similarities, or artists are not truly expressing &lt;em&gt;themselves&lt;/em&gt; and are rather riding the one way train to fame, which requires them to shed whatever makes them unique. However, I refuse to book tickets on that train, alongside numerous other artists that are changing the game and redefining it's dimensions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll leave you with some more K'naan lyrics :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And any man who knows a thing knows, he knows not a damn, damn thing at all...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just gonna take a minute and let it ride,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just gonna take a minute and let it breeze&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be Safe and Be True,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Naya,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No need to Complicate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-8322654848600125438?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/8322654848600125438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/05/dusty-foot-philosopher.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/8322654848600125438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/8322654848600125438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/05/dusty-foot-philosopher.html' title='The Dusty Foot Philosopher'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/ShSrN52CHuI/AAAAAAAAAE8/lpkW7t5VjCg/s72-c/k%27naan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-8088791985931468160</id><published>2009-05-16T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T17:59:13.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a min!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Yes yes yes I know I should be ashamed of myself, I have not given any time for my blog for the past...eurr 3 months...well I do sincerly apologize.&lt;br /&gt;Ok so what's been up in the past 3 months in Naya's life you might ask well.....&lt;br /&gt;Honestly school was taking a big chunk of it; from 40 pages essays to panels to finals...urk... glad that is over, well for the moment, since i took (for whatever thoughtless reason to my mental health) summer classes!..yay. But, &lt;strong&gt;Music&lt;/strong&gt; is actually the biggest buzzer in my life, since I have decided to make a mixtape. A mixtape? you might say...meaning rap? as in Naya raps? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I used to write poetry back in the day, but I took on ryhming only early this year. Yea I'm a newbie at this but don't get it twisted I do stand confident in my skills. Truth is I do not think there are enough or even any female rapper that is bringing a change or challenging any issue, but I want to change that; I speak of issues from political to love, from being fly to getting high (as in elevation of the mind of course ;p). Unfortunatly female rap is associated to people like lil Kim and Trina (not that I have anything against them personally) but alot of people expect those kind of lyrics from me...but oh do they get pleasantly surprised :)&lt;br /&gt;My style? Well obviously I'm not gangster and I ain't got no street credibility so I won't rock the whole grill thing nor booty shake with my rhymes :p but to give you an idea I guess you can say I'm a mix of Lauren Hill, Lupe Fiasco, Kid Cudi and K'naan, in other words; a little soul, consciousness, new school and roots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm currently working on a few songs with Retromusik and they will be posted when done!&lt;br /&gt;Until next time loves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No need to complicate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-8088791985931468160?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/8088791985931468160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-been-min.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/8088791985931468160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/8088791985931468160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-been-min.html' title='It&apos;s been a min!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-3031765406845479170</id><published>2009-01-17T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T18:12:04.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SXKNxMOKstI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nj7NkWrEabk/s1600-h/ethiopia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292448388347507410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SXKNxMOKstI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nj7NkWrEabk/s320/ethiopia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Acacia Tree, Omo region, Ethiopia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok it is almost 3am and I jus finished watching a movie my mom picked up earlier today; live and become. If you’re not familiar with the storyline; it takes place in my place of birth, Ethiopia, where the 84 famine was going on. Hundreds of Ethiopian Jews were “rescued” from the camps n brought to Israel to their “fathers land”. One Christian mother finds out about this operation and forces her son to pose as a Jew so he may leave the country, pain in her eyes, bodies clenched; he leaves her, to come back once again many years later. I’ll never forget his mother, half her face covered with a witted old clothe, revealing her beautiful and deep pain stricken eyes, so full of sorrow and agony. At the end of the movie when he returns as a Doctor, his eyes meet hers. They haven’t changed, still striking and profound, and I am not a big emotional girl, in fact my friends call me a Man in regards to that. But at that moment I swear my hearth skipped a beat. She has been waiting there for years, sitting in dusty camps, waiting for her son to come home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came here with my beautiful mom, but I feel for this boy and although I cannot even try to understand his tragedies, I can sympathize with his disconnect. My Country is waiting, sitting in camps, with her deep brown eyes filled with desperation. She is my Mother, and I unlike the boy, I have forgotten her. I do not talk to her, I do not write her letters, I do not pray for her and I don’t think about her. I have forgotten her, my mother, my cradle, I have forsaken you. Mmm don’t have much more to say I guess than: have i lived n become? When will I see you again, when will I smell the red clay under my feet, when will I taste the rain and when will I kiss the sun. Have i forgotten you mother?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;No need to complicate,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-3031765406845479170?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/3031765406845479170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/01/waiting.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/3031765406845479170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/3031765406845479170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/01/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SXKNxMOKstI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nj7NkWrEabk/s72-c/ethiopia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-6352821009495171722</id><published>2009-01-11T12:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T13:00:12.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So last year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SWpdcQmlYwI/AAAAAAAAADw/QYgxehm3hdM/s1600-h/paded+leather.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290143452374590210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SWpdcQmlYwI/AAAAAAAAADw/QYgxehm3hdM/s320/paded+leather.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was never the type of girl to cringe at styles which have surpassed their expiry date, but if you know me then you are aware that i do appreciated the mainstream fashion movements, however i am not a fan of the factory doll concept. Whereas, you share the same article of clothing with hundreds, and hundreds of others, where not only your individuality has taken a blow but also the style itself has lost its initial refinement and elegance and instead has given way to tackiness.&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was at Steve Madden, with M and I found these irresistible padded leather boots. They were chic, elegant, sexy and comfortable and &lt;em&gt;shiny&lt;/em&gt;, I was utterly attracted.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately I could not say the same for M, now he found them utterly repugnant.&lt;br /&gt;I could not comprehend his insatisfaction with these gems, instead he opted that I consider the pointy suede boots.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I do not have a problem with suede, in fact I am quite a fan of that sassy fabric, but the boots in my view are over used. The suede boots are overused!! I never thought I would say this but “that is so last year”…*shivers**&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all don’t think I’m a trend criticizer, I just can’t stand blind style.&lt;br /&gt;Follow a trend because it caters to your style and not the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No need to complicate,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s: I will post some pics of my style since I should walk the walk, if I talked the talk&lt;br /&gt;As soon as one of the heifers lends me their cam J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-6352821009495171722?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/6352821009495171722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-last-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/6352821009495171722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/6352821009495171722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-last-year.html' title='So last year'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SWpdcQmlYwI/AAAAAAAAADw/QYgxehm3hdM/s72-c/paded+leather.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-7865374717416927253</id><published>2008-12-30T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T12:14:41.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>U-G-Z</title><content type='html'>Outta My System&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok some of you might get offended, disturbed or even saddened by what I am about to express, however I have to get it off my chest. It has been weighing on me for quite some time now, (about two to three years to be exact) and I feel the need to know if I am the only one who feels like this. Here it goes… It’s about Ugz. I hate them, can’t stand them. I’m talking about those feet deforming, unfitting, big foot is calling and wants his feet back, looking things. Probably short for uglies, those nasty mammoths can just kill your whole look. Girlfriend can be rockin the whole fashionista style, but it all goes to water if she decides to complement it with those feet lumps! I mean it’s like rocking a 3 piece suit with some flip flops. Now, don’t get me wrong I am not condemning ugz believers ( yes believers because they believe they are styling) but it has reached a point where I cannot turn my head 360 degrees without spotting at least FIVE pairs of those beastly entities. Come on people have fashion trends bended our ability to discern what is hot or what is just plain hideous and do not come with me with those comfort&lt;br /&gt;arguments because there are numerous articles which I find to be utterly most comfortable, BUT I dare not wear in public. But hey that’s just my perogative…right :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SVrpdk78-fI/AAAAAAAAABg/8pQRS__vg0s/s1600-h/uhhh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285793807013313010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SVrpdk78-fI/AAAAAAAAABg/8pQRS__vg0s/s320/uhhh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No need to complicate,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naya&lt;/em&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is my What the hek! look :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-7865374717416927253?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/7865374717416927253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/outta-my-system-ok-some-of-you-might.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/7865374717416927253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/7865374717416927253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/outta-my-system-ok-some-of-you-might.html' title='U-G-Z'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SVrpdk78-fI/AAAAAAAAABg/8pQRS__vg0s/s72-c/uhhh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-276585654570343634</id><published>2008-12-25T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T12:33:17.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes Merry Christmas loves!</title><content type='html'>Well first off,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to say that i received the bests gifts in the entire world. I must have been a very good girl :)&lt;br /&gt;I wished for: A better paying job (yes i got a job i will provide details in another post:)&lt;br /&gt;I received: A job :)&lt;br /&gt;I wished for: A big family christmas.&lt;br /&gt;I received: My family is all over, but I kno that they are well and Healthy.&lt;br /&gt;I wished for: More attention&lt;br /&gt;I received: M, because he is a gift in himself and although i do not show it as often as i I should, I &lt;strong&gt;do&lt;/strong&gt; appreciate him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, i would like to admit, that I woke up this morning, not as joyful as i once did as a child. I remember that feeling, when the moment i would open my eyes, I would would be filled with such excitement and joy. I would run to the tree and rip open the gifts, while my mom stood and watched with a big smile. Now, i wake on this day, like any other day, feeling a bit cranky and unexcited. I got up, and whished my fam a merry christmas and had breakfast. I don't think i could ever get that excitement back, it is something so pure and unadulterated, that could only a child can produce. Well, maybe that's when i will get that christmas morning joy back.&lt;br /&gt;But hey don't get me wrong, Im happy!&lt;br /&gt;Shake a hand, give a smile!&lt;br /&gt;Be safe everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No need to complicate,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-276585654570343634?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/276585654570343634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/yes-merry-christmas-loves.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/276585654570343634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/276585654570343634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/yes-merry-christmas-loves.html' title='Yes Merry Christmas loves!'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-308609139718821746</id><published>2008-12-24T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T19:21:50.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blogg/427676/nayasconcept?claim=4n5nwqtpf3j"&gt;Follow my blog with bloglovin´&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-308609139718821746?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/308609139718821746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/follow-my-blog-with-bloglovin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/308609139718821746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/308609139718821746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/follow-my-blog-with-bloglovin.html' title=''/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230020226496887926.post-4227274592442902118</id><published>2008-12-20T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T12:15:33.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Column</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Rant of the Day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;12 days freaking days, no not of Christmas, but of unemployment, a term that does not exactly produce favorable reaction within our current society. It’s usually associated with laziness, addiction, lower class and all that ish, but why is it that to be considered “successful” we somehow have to be strapped between the legs of 9 and 5 for the next forty years. I wonder, who is to decide the value of my labor? Who is to say that answering phone calls is worth 12.25$/hour? Mega corporations have fixed labors, bribing the public with health plans and benefits and all of that ish. Well maybe I am up to their sneaky plans of world dumbmination, maybe I’m at an upper subconscious level that is immune to their attempts of confinement into their material dependant world of consumerism. Yes!! I am freaking unemployed and what ? Well now that I have expressed my frustrations, let’s move on. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;On a more serious note&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The other day M (my love) and I attended a general discussion about interracial relationships. A lot of opinions and thoughts were shared and thrown around and people generally seem to be “accepting” the idea of interracial dating. The discussion was held at one of Canada’s most prestigious Universities, and needless to say that the brother n sister population was not exactly at a high level nor does it contain a more culturally rooted body. I am not saying that the crowd was filled with Betty Crockers and Uncle Toms, but it remained that I smelled and air of Condolesa Rices and Dick Chenies. However, the most refreshing part of the evening was when a young woman stated that very interesting point about how we are all identifying with African American culture as being our own. She added that racial tensions that have always existed with our southern neighbors is not and should not be taken into the same context as our own.&lt;br /&gt;Think about it. Why is it that as afro-Canadians, we feel the need to relate to such different circumstances, I mean most of us immigrated here as opposed to being shipped. Although, the relationship between master and slave has surely left its scars to this day. Black women are less likely to be in an interracial relationship compared to black men, why is that so? Can it have deeper meanings and circumstances than the evident disinterest that we may suppose. Can it be associated to something more perverse and malevolent? Or is just that white men are just scared shitless of sistersJ.&lt;br /&gt;M brought up an interesting point that here it is more of a difference of cultures than race. There always going to be an issue if each partner does not share the same culture, regardless if they share the same so called “race”. And that is actually the issue between M and I. Yes love is prevalent over all that ish but the issue remains, especially if we have children. Cultural identity is something that is imperative where I am from and that is one of the reasons I have not introduced M to my mother (it has been over 1year now). Yea I know I am awful but I ‘m scared shitless of her and her judgment. It will inevitably happen, but until then I will continue to seem as if I’m a 21 year old virgin that never had a relationship (not that it’s impossibleJ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Speaking of Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and related issues, I presently feel drained. Have you ever felt like you are the battery that is keeping the relationship moving, and that if u die it dies? Yesterday was just so nice, after the meeting I went over his place and we watched Fresh prince with each a bowl of Yassa( a Senegalese dish) in our hands, we laughed and ate, It was nice. It was part of those of ahhh this feels good moments. But they seem not to come as often as hoped. I want more ahhhh. Disconnect is a word that I met a few months ago. He comes at different intervals and intensities, depending on the season I guess. I feel like I got to know disconnect more intimately ever since I realized that I am the unofficial energizer bunny, I keep going and going and going but I..will stop…one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;No need to complicate,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/230020226496887926-4227274592442902118?l=nayaconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/4227274592442902118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/rant-of-day-12-days-freaking-days-no.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/4227274592442902118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/230020226496887926/posts/default/4227274592442902118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nayaconcept.blogspot.com/2008/12/rant-of-day-12-days-freaking-days-no.html' title='My First Column'/><author><name>Naya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16257847916739500890</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aP4ALQ5qWV8/SU3301Krf-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/PJ386K5lupA/S220/mee2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
