<?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-4283484984487567534</id><updated>2011-07-08T00:31:52.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Museings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283484984487567534.post-6613347982576765888</id><published>2010-03-10T01:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T01:15:19.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ever heard this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; border-collapse: collapse; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="75%" border="0" cellspacing="4" cellpadding="4" border style="border-collapse: collapse; color:#111111;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr align="left" valign="top"&gt;&lt;td width="100%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:180%;"&gt;AT LAST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;by &lt;a href="http://www.authorsden.com/visit/author.asp?AuthorID=94070"&gt;Nance J O'Donnell&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;color:#808080;"&gt;Monday, November 03, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:78%;"&gt;Not rated by the Author.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;Self Awareness, Self forgiving, Self healing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="left" valign="top"&gt;&lt;td width="79%" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;b&gt;At,  last,  discover,  brighter  life&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  comfort,  no  longer  strife&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,   minds'  peace,  found&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  heard,  mother  natures  sound.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,   actions  no  longer  careless&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  soul  awakens, new  awareness&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  pain   subsides,  not  fester&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  memories, down  to  whisper&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  brain  ceases  tug  of  war&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  no  need  to  even  score&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,   winner,  stand,  undefeated&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  no  reason,  to  fight,  completed.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,   mind  forever  free&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  found  key  to  discovery&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last,  heart, happy, singing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;At  last, a vision, new  beginning.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;found this poem online, I saw a book at Barnes and Noble the other day about healing through writing, i think i'll buy that book&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6613347982576765888?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6613347982576765888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/ever-heard-this.html#comment-form' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6613347982576765888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6613347982576765888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/ever-heard-this.html' title='ever heard this?'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4283484984487567534.post-2620769411853645625</id><published>2010-03-04T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T11:07:04.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the rain</title><content type='html'>the rain was a gift&lt;div&gt;washing away some of my sorrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the rain was a gift&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;showing me that rebirth was imminent &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the rain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;surprised me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the water falling on my face and hands&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;washing me clean of the darkness that is clouding my thoughts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the impossible is possible&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and if it is meant to be it will happen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;faith is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;necessary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/4283484984487567534-2620769411853645625?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2620769411853645625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2620769411853645625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2620769411853645625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/rain.html' title='the rain'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4277488372305049523</id><published>2010-03-03T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T12:30:11.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when he said goodbye,&lt;div&gt;my heart screamed like a banshee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but it was my soul that left&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am like Pandora's box&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all of my faults and miseries strewn out amongst everyone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shown to the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and Hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;only Hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;remains inside me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will she be enough?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will the flicker of that star get me through?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My love is unblinking and it remembers his face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;full of love and sorrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will that fade?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will i never see that look in your eyes again?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope flickers in my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I can't allow myself to hold on too tight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or i will destroy her&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like i've destroyed myself, so many times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/4283484984487567534-4277488372305049523?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4277488372305049523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-he-said-goodbye-my-heart-screamed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4277488372305049523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4277488372305049523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-he-said-goodbye-my-heart-screamed.html' title=''/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4805434910517478177</id><published>2009-12-04T20:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T21:10:54.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the finish</title><content type='html'>leaving work&lt;div&gt;leaving all of the things that i know daily, the comfort zone.  the things i'm used to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's absolutely terrifying to leave all of that behind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but that's the bargain that we make to get something better right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;only what if it isn't better?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i've made a mistake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;jeez i hope not, because I won't be welcome back they've made that clear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh my goodness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here it goes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4805434910517478177?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4805434910517478177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/12/finish.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4805434910517478177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4805434910517478177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/12/finish.html' title='the finish'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1566554573519521215</id><published>2009-12-01T22:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T21:03:58.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>end of the line</title><content type='html'>things i want to do:&lt;div&gt;design a line&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;build a house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;go to greece&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;live in japan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;get married&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;be a trainer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;be a bartender&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;get more tattoos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cook a five course meal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lose 20 lbs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;love like never before&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;adopt or get a german shorthaired pointer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;be strong enough to move on my own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;donate blood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;volunteer my time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;perform my all time favorite musicals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;record a song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;write a short story collection&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;write a novel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;get published&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1566554573519521215?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1566554573519521215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1566554573519521215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1566554573519521215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-line.html' title='end of the line'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3326853157108671850</id><published>2009-11-29T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T23:28:18.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>start anew</title><content type='html'>going into a new situation is always tough&lt;div&gt;but often you know it's for the best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;putting yourself out there, taking a risk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is the best way to get something better than what you have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sure, sometimes you get hurt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but if you don't put yourself out there, you'll never know what could have been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this applies to so many things, but right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's for a job&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hope it works out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3326853157108671850?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3326853157108671850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/start-anew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3326853157108671850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3326853157108671850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/start-anew.html' title='start anew'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4685158098214347083</id><published>2009-11-28T21:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T20:59:24.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>exhaustion</title><content type='html'>the end of the rope, so tired that waking up just doesn't even seem like a possibility. i've worked myself into a state of near coma, barely waking, barely able to function, God it's like being a zombie. horrible&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4685158098214347083?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4685158098214347083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/exhaustion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4685158098214347083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4685158098214347083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/exhaustion.html' title='exhaustion'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-7399896102720205513</id><published>2009-11-26T03:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T03:22:32.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thankful</title><content type='html'>tonight, i was told be thankful for the hardships as well as the good things because it gets you to where you are&lt;div&gt;i could not agree more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have been through plenty in my young life, but even though a lot of it is still hard for me to deal with i wouldn't change a moment of my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i would not be the same person without all of the tough things. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i am still privileged&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with a great mother, an amazingly supportive boyfriend, and fabulous friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am blessed with all that i have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;good and bad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i can do nothing but be thankful for all that i am today &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and all that i have been given&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no matter what it is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can completely&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;give thanks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for all that i am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and all that i have been gifted with&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so thank you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to everyone and everything that has put me where i am at this moment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in this life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;love fills my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-7399896102720205513?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/7399896102720205513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7399896102720205513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7399896102720205513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html' title='thankful'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1568240559872370569</id><published>2009-11-25T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T22:12:26.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the thing you usually don't want, you need</title><content type='html'>this isn't exactly the most exciting or pleasant thing to talk about.  But waiting for your period, and being paranoid.  checking constantly, praying for symptoms, praying for any sign that everything is okay.  it makes you want to be celibate, seriously.  the stress, the heartache.  my God.  maybe you should worry maybe you shouldn't, but the one thing you have to do is wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1568240559872370569?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1568240559872370569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/thing-you-usually-dont-want-you-need.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1568240559872370569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1568240559872370569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/thing-you-usually-dont-want-you-need.html' title='the thing you usually don&apos;t want, you need'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-2676038507885963438</id><published>2009-11-23T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T22:16:13.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sorrow beyond compare</title><content type='html'>Losing someone close to you, is one of the most difficult things in the world.  When you love someone, whether they are family or not, you want to be able to keep them with you forever, for whatever you need them for.  How do you really deal with the loss of someone who is such an influential person in your life.  How do you keep going when the need for them is so strong, it hurts to get out of bed knowing that that person is no longer walking this earth along side of you? what do you do then?  how do you move on and live life the way you used to? it's impossible, it forever marks your existence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-2676038507885963438?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2676038507885963438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/sorrow-beyond-compare.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2676038507885963438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2676038507885963438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/sorrow-beyond-compare.html' title='sorrow beyond compare'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5360699209291654294</id><published>2009-11-20T13:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T20:56:26.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>no work please</title><content type='html'>i just don't want to go to work, i'm tired and not up to making people think that i'm happy to deal with all of the shit that they can dish out.  more salad, extra sauce, modify this, modify that.  3 pitchers of peach iced tea.  i am not a servant i am a server, there is a difference.  i get that i'm supposed to do my best to make the people at my tables happy, but there is still common manners.  things don't materialize out of thin air, things don't generally get ready in two minutes, servers aren't miracle workers!&lt;div&gt;frustration&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5360699209291654294?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5360699209291654294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-work-please.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5360699209291654294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5360699209291654294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-work-please.html' title='no work please'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1846587171671286093</id><published>2009-11-18T13:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T20:44:44.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>loving life</title><content type='html'>everything is going well, the point of great.  getting to start something good.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/joy-49/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1846587171671286093?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1846587171671286093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/loving-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1846587171671286093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1846587171671286093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/loving-life.html' title='loving life'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5929789266134645183</id><published>2009-11-17T02:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T20:42:16.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the cards you're given</title><content type='html'>sometimes, no matter how hard you try to alter the cards on the board, the hand they dealt you is all you have.  the cards just aren't good enough.  there is no way to switch, or change what you've got in your hand, because it belongs to you and it owns you at the same time.  it's what you have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5929789266134645183?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5929789266134645183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/cards-youre-given.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5929789266134645183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5929789266134645183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/cards-youre-given.html' title='the cards you&apos;re given'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4301950360832737624</id><published>2009-11-16T22:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T00:23:04.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>looking up</title><content type='html'>it's amazing how much can be accomplished once you are determined to do it&lt;div&gt;for a while i've had goals and set them, and let them fall by the wayside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;determination is key&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's always been obvious&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i'm a creature of habit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;content to be in one place because of familiarity and the natural quality of staying dormant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but once determination truly sets in, and being comfy isn't enough anymore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;things can really start to look up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;rough patches are inevitable when changing, but it is so great to look up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4301950360832737624?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4301950360832737624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/looking-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4301950360832737624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4301950360832737624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/looking-up.html' title='looking up'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6636816195239553621</id><published>2009-11-15T23:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T00:20:07.631-08:00</updated><title type='text'>drink it down</title><content type='html'>one glass of wine&lt;div&gt;then another&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and another&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to get through the stress&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the problems&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the anxiety&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it probably isn't the healthiest thing to do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but self-medication is popular amongst many&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;including myself every once in a while&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or maybe more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;admit it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no, never.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh no not right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it seems as if there is always too much going on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so the deal is, is it worth it to keep the vice?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6636816195239553621?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6636816195239553621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/drink-it-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6636816195239553621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6636816195239553621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/drink-it-down.html' title='drink it down'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1299700965487686911</id><published>2009-11-14T10:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T00:17:13.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hypocrisy</title><content type='html'>LAUSD wants to cut teachers pay&lt;div&gt;my question is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how many of the people working in offices, the people at the top of the food chain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how many of them are getting a pay cut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why are we so willing to cut budget where we need it the most&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the classroom is the most important thing about school systems&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;these children are the future, however cliche that sounds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we need the best teachers more than ever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how is a pay cut encouraging that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1299700965487686911?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1299700965487686911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/hypocrisy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1299700965487686911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1299700965487686911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/hypocrisy.html' title='hypocrisy'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-161226167599031504</id><published>2009-11-13T02:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T22:18:28.025-08:00</updated><title type='text'>stroke of genius</title><content type='html'>I get inspiration in the strangest places, at the strangest times.  Often driving in the car, when i have no way of writing down my thoughts.  It's such a weird place to get inspiration.  How to keep it in my brain while i drive is a thing that i have yet to master.  I wish i could.  i would have brought so much more creativity into this world if i did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-161226167599031504?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/161226167599031504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/stroke-of-genius.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/161226167599031504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/161226167599031504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/stroke-of-genius.html' title='stroke of genius'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3011192817426420031</id><published>2009-11-12T20:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T22:22:07.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>scars</title><content type='html'>the marks on my body are a part of me, like all of my experiences.  they are scars.&lt;div&gt;and whether they are ugly or beautiful, they are mine.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the abuse of my last boyfriend, and the adoration of my current one.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the suicide of my father, and the death of my only father figure.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the love of my mother, and the narcissism of my grandmother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the split-up of friendships, the making of new ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the rejection, and hope, love and dislike, new opportunities, missed opportunities, awkwardness, acceptance, and faith.  it all marks a person.  and my physical and emotional injuries mark me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but the good things do too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3011192817426420031?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3011192817426420031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/scars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3011192817426420031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3011192817426420031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/scars.html' title='scars'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-8143255779799553483</id><published>2009-11-11T00:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T00:32:57.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>finding family</title><content type='html'>i know my mom is my family.  she's been amazing and wonderful and present.  when i look at my friends, i feel like i have someone who is there for me.  and i look into the eyes of my boyfriend, Alex.  I know i have something special.  I have someone who loves me, unconditionally.  Someone who can be my lover, and my best friend.  how often do you find that?  i know that in my boyfriend i have also found family.  a person who is always there for me.  someone who has let me into their life.  someone who can share anything with me and who i can share anything with.  my friends, my boyfriend, my mom.  people i could and would never let go.  they are my family.   i can be in my boyfriends eyes and know that i'm home.  how precious is that feeling? some will never know the value in that, but i do.  that amazing elation, the sense of love without requirement. it's something that has no price and i wouldn't give it up for anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-8143255779799553483?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/8143255779799553483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/finding-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8143255779799553483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8143255779799553483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/finding-family.html' title='finding family'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6637419264997456430</id><published>2009-11-10T13:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T00:35:40.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>new lives</title><content type='html'>new job can equal new life.  &lt;div&gt;i have a lot of respect and appreciation for my current bosses and the way they treat me, but the striving for something better, is refreshing.  i can't wait to get the things i strive for.  a business, a home of my own, a better education, a life i can't get away from in the best way possible.  fabulous, new, amazing possibilities.  yay for that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6637419264997456430?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6637419264997456430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-lives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6637419264997456430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6637419264997456430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-lives.html' title='new lives'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6740895746752394618</id><published>2009-11-08T16:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T00:39:34.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the way you look</title><content type='html'>it amazes me how much appearance makes a difference on how you feel about yourself.  losing weight, adding tattoos, changing hair, getting surgery.  it all makes a difference.  being comfortable with yourself changes everything.  i try my best, but it's difficult.  but at least i try&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6740895746752394618?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6740895746752394618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/way-you-look.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6740895746752394618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6740895746752394618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/way-you-look.html' title='the way you look'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-7663247852246756667</id><published>2009-11-04T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T00:14:44.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Elemental strength</title><content type='html'>the power of nature is so strong, and the dormancy is something we take advantage of.&lt;div&gt;the wind could knock us over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the waves could sweep us away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the sun could scorch our bodies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the rain could drench our bones&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there is so much that nature could do to damage us&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we're just lucky to not be in the line of fire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-7663247852246756667?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/7663247852246756667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/elemental-strength.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7663247852246756667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7663247852246756667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/elemental-strength.html' title='Elemental strength'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6786307608545379840</id><published>2009-11-03T01:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T14:34:31.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one line poem2</title><content type='html'>the girl looking out the window sees all, but feels nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6786307608545379840?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6786307608545379840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-line-poem2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6786307608545379840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6786307608545379840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-line-poem2.html' title='one line poem2'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-7517130689280798999</id><published>2009-11-02T23:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T00:19:11.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>charm bracelet</title><content type='html'>what would you put on your charm bracelet? all of the little things that would add up to represent you.&lt;div&gt;a heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a pomeranian&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a book&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a pen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a teal, hot pink, and white bead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a bow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a leaf&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a dove&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a vial with fairy dust&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;an ink well&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a bell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a mirror&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a hug, if that was possible&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lips&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a whale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a pocketwatch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;something disney&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a plane or train ticket&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the letter A&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a teabag&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a wine glass&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a bow and arrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a pair of handcuffs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a pearl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a diamond&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a stiletto shoe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a candle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a key&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a lock&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a koi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the moon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lace&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;an orchid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what would yours be?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-7517130689280798999?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/7517130689280798999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/charm-bracelet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7517130689280798999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7517130689280798999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/11/charm-bracelet.html' title='charm bracelet'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-957980252596252069</id><published>2009-10-31T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T23:58:23.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Hallows Eve</title><content type='html'>A night for frights and dark corners&lt;div&gt;for joy seekers and mourners&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a night where all come out to play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and wish it'd last another day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A night to become someone you're not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A night that should never be forgot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a night for magic and mystic alike&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a time for dark that gives in to light&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;time for laughter time for fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;time for the things that have just begun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;delight that is forbidden most of the year&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a time that shows there is nothing to fear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;spooks and ghouls come out to say hello&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but when the clock strikes 12 then they have to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;goodnight Halloween I'll see you next year&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-957980252596252069?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/957980252596252069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-hallows-eve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/957980252596252069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/957980252596252069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/all-hallows-eve.html' title='All Hallows Eve'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-917454538723997665</id><published>2009-10-29T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T10:41:18.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>great quotes</title><content type='html'>http://www.bspcn.com/2008/07/07/50-greatest-quotes-on-men/&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;found this article on a blog that i read, awesome stuff, some funny some inspiring&lt;/div&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/4283484984487567534-917454538723997665?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/917454538723997665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/great-quotes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/917454538723997665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/917454538723997665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/great-quotes.html' title='great quotes'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4306413525071783563</id><published>2009-10-27T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:41:56.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>head cold</title><content type='html'>being sick sucks, sitting at home with a stuffy nose, wanting to do things with friends or be productive, but you just can't&lt;div&gt;that lovely attractive hacking cough that causes people to back away terrified&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh lord&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's too much&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;go away cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4306413525071783563?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4306413525071783563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/head-cold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4306413525071783563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4306413525071783563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/head-cold.html' title='head cold'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3729392105674404138</id><published>2009-10-26T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:45:45.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sell yourself</title><content type='html'>from my perpective, there are so many jobs that are more like prostitution than jobs.  I mean prostitution is selling yourself, specifically your body and personality, but think about it, acting is prostitution.  You're selling a product and that product is yourself.  you are presenting yourself in a light that makes you wanted desired, so that you get the job.  Serving is a small form of it too.  You get tipped based on how well you do, but also your personality.  it's almost strange. but we do it every single day, well I do.  Oh well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3729392105674404138?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3729392105674404138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/sell-yourself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3729392105674404138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3729392105674404138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/sell-yourself.html' title='sell yourself'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-2957081376460828379</id><published>2009-10-23T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T15:02:10.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>performing</title><content type='html'>stepping onto the stage becoming someone, something you aren't&lt;div&gt;exhilarating.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the momentum of your fellow actors, the audience even the lights, all contributing to whether it's a good show day or not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;make-up caked on the face, hair shellacked in place.  you even look like a stranger, but this whole being is someone you know very well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in fact that being has become your best friend because in some way for a few hours they live through you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-2957081376460828379?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2957081376460828379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/performing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2957081376460828379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2957081376460828379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/performing.html' title='performing'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4866460427720442525</id><published>2009-10-22T21:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:50:17.639-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ingredients</title><content type='html'>step one, melt butter, melt hearts&lt;div&gt;step two, add two cups sugar, for extra sweet kisses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;step three, throw in a pinch of salt, to cut the bitterness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;step four, mix in flour, to create a strong recipe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;step five, make sure all ingredients are combined, for a good bond&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;step six, bake, just until tender yet firm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;serve and enjoy the love put in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4866460427720442525?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4866460427720442525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/ingredients.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4866460427720442525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4866460427720442525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/ingredients.html' title='ingredients'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-8264385201181727749</id><published>2009-10-21T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T21:27:11.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>still an animal</title><content type='html'>I slink into my messy bedroom.  Clothes and furniture draped with items make the room look more like a forest floor than of a cheap apartments carpet.  I see my boyfriend, my mate perhaps, still fast asleep in a heap on the raised bed.  Blankets heaped around his body creating mini mountains around the entire bed.  I tiptoe around the walls towards the bed, every move carefully planned out, as to not disturb the slumbering prey.  It's something of a game testing how far, how close, how daring i can get without a single move from the boyfriend.  I know I can do it.  I've pounced this sleeper before.  Luckily I've got a heavy drowser here allowing me to make all necessary movement patterns before crouching down to finally jump onto the unsuspecting victim.  The time is ripe.  If i don't act now my chance will be blown.  I bend my knees to get into the prime position.  Gather my energy and hop onto the bed startling my victim and completing my mission.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-8264385201181727749?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/8264385201181727749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/still-animal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8264385201181727749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8264385201181727749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/still-animal.html' title='still an animal'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-2498510654262307297</id><published>2009-10-20T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T11:49:34.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>small transformation</title><content type='html'>interesting how the things that you do to your body create small transformations in more ways than one.  something as small as painting your nails, to something as big as plastic surgery.  &lt;div&gt;changing my hair from blonde to red, people look at me differently, see me as a different person, make decisions about my personality. red equals fiesty, blonde equals ditzy, brown equals plain.  who knows.  when people find out about my tattoo's their image is automatically altered.  I become more rebellious, wild, even sexy or less desirable.  depends on the viewpoint.  and if i get plastic surgery am i vain, or practical about how i view myself.  every little thing makes me carry myself differently, look at myself differently in the mirror.  Like the image itself changes me.  where for a split second i'm not looking at myself.  strange small transformation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-2498510654262307297?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2498510654262307297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/small-transformation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2498510654262307297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2498510654262307297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/small-transformation.html' title='small transformation'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-8460668227478305310</id><published>2009-10-19T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T02:00:30.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>secrets</title><content type='html'>how many are really meant to be kept&lt;div&gt;if you leave them alone inside of you, they could destroy everything you have and are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes, i listen to or watch sad songs and movies so i can temporarily break my heart.  it feels better to cry and let out the excess emotion rather than bottle it up and release it onto the person i care most about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wish that i had more motivation and inspiration to write my short story collection, it kills me that i feel unable to do something i adore and it kills me more to know i'm not trying hard enough.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have opinions about the people i love that i keep inside because i'm terrified that if i tell the whole truth i'll be abandoned like in the past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am so desperate for permanent connections with people, but in the back of my mind i feel unworthy of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've pushed away the people who care about me most just to make sure that pretty much no matter what i do, they aren't leaving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i want to lose weight but eating makes me feel better in that second.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i sometimes wonder if i'm so anxious, desperate and resistant to finding/starting a family because i've never really felt the sense of family that most people have.  it's an alien concept to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i show myself as so confident, but it's just a way to make me feel better about myself on a daily basis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love him, more than i know how to describe, and sometimes i worry that someday it'll fade, and i can't stand the thought of being without him&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;those are some of my own secrets, i suppose they aren't so secret anymore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-8460668227478305310?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/8460668227478305310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/secrets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8460668227478305310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8460668227478305310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/secrets.html' title='secrets'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-8223432801397210214</id><published>2009-10-18T19:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T19:25:54.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>royal slippers</title><content type='html'>http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/TwelDanc.shtml&lt;div&gt;this story has a special place with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-8223432801397210214?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/8223432801397210214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/royal-slippers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8223432801397210214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8223432801397210214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/royal-slippers.html' title='royal slippers'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3538344528367130571</id><published>2009-10-15T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T10:26:29.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the sun pokes through</title><content type='html'>the sun pokes through the clouds and fog, and sends its warmth to drift through the air.  beautiful pure light that creeps around myface&lt;div&gt;it brings a sweet smile that lingers around the muscles of my mouth,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3538344528367130571?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3538344528367130571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/sun-pokes-through.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3538344528367130571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3538344528367130571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/sun-pokes-through.html' title='the sun pokes through'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6955900847179729683</id><published>2009-10-13T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T10:21:37.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the rain</title><content type='html'>the rain is rebirth&lt;div&gt;the sweet smell of freshly dropped water.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the slick wet concrete striped with oil from the many cars driving the street in the summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's the mark of fall, of winter in SoCal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a relief to be at least temporarily free from the sometimes unbearable heat.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love to just look out the window and see the droplets splash and bound off the window.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's refreshing to stand in the natural shower and feel the water against my face, clothes and hair.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when it's rainy it's a time for good rented movies, delivery food, and hot tea or chocolate.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a time to be indoors and warm and enjoy ice cream to get that chilly feeling on the inside.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the rain lights up my soul though it darkens the sky.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;love, kissing in the rain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can't wait to do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6955900847179729683?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6955900847179729683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6955900847179729683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6955900847179729683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/rain.html' title='the rain'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-747729992794039874</id><published>2009-10-12T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T15:46:05.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>inspiring</title><content type='html'>this poem has parts based on one of my favorite greek myths, the selene endymion myth.&lt;div&gt;oh the love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19377&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-747729992794039874?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/747729992794039874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/inspiring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/747729992794039874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/747729992794039874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/inspiring.html' title='inspiring'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-2025372360221986859</id><published>2009-10-11T02:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T02:32:05.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>charcoal grey</title><content type='html'>there's a color that strikes everyone&lt;div&gt;a color that they always want to see, wear, a color that you're drawn to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that color for me is grey, specifically charcoal grey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's not even that the color looks that great on me, but there's something about the stormy tranquility of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's such a solid color, but it has so much emotion attached to it, in some unknown way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i would always like to have it on me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was a time when that's the only color i wanted to buy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what is that color for you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-2025372360221986859?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2025372360221986859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/charcoal-grey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2025372360221986859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2025372360221986859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/charcoal-grey.html' title='charcoal grey'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-8596525242377609215</id><published>2009-10-09T23:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T23:20:55.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>good poem</title><content type='html'>http://www.poetscorner.org/pearls5.htm&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i found this poem on a site of new poets&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the passion is beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-8596525242377609215?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/8596525242377609215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/good-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8596525242377609215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/8596525242377609215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/good-poem.html' title='good poem'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6532172451593383588</id><published>2009-10-07T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T00:49:34.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one line poem</title><content type='html'>I press my nose into his shirt and grab on tight to his hair, the smell of cigarettes and axe, i know I'm home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6532172451593383588?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6532172451593383588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-line-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6532172451593383588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6532172451593383588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-line-poem.html' title='one line poem'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-2742409612865784771</id><published>2009-10-06T00:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:46:47.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>finding forest</title><content type='html'>the smell of untainted air that lingers on your clothes after you've left.  huge ancient spirits hovering over you, dropping their skin and leaves onto the floor and your shoulders.  The bits of sun that creep through the gaps in branches and caress your face with gentle light.  the Golds, chartreuse, evergreen, sepia, richness of all of the natural colors and subtleties nearly impossible to recreate.  invigorating rush running through the crunching leaves and inhaling nature.  You feel like a wood sprite.  Wishing to live in the flowers, to wrap the petals around your body like a sleeping bad at night.  going into the city is practically devastating after showering in the sweet natural setting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-2742409612865784771?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/2742409612865784771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/finding-forest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2742409612865784771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/2742409612865784771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/finding-forest.html' title='finding forest'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-9163958734416081538</id><published>2009-10-04T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T23:57:14.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stone tiara</title><content type='html'>What does a fairy wear? What does a Goddess wear?  An elemental crown welded together with magic.  Moonstone for psychic powers, youth and protection.  Agate for strength, courage, and healing.  Tiger eye for confidence and energy.  Peridot for tranquility.  Amethyst for love, spirituality, and healing dreams to send on the waves of the wind.  Jasper for that celestial grace.  Opal for constant beauty.  Quartz Crystal for power.   Amber for a hint of luck.  Carnelian to provide grounding energy, peace, eloquence, and sexuality.  Coral to provide ancient wisdom.  Smoky Quartz to remove negative emotions.  Onyx to defend.  All of these wrapped up with copper and silver binding them with energy direction, healing, love, invocation, dreams, travel and protection.  The combined energies and properties of these create a symbol, an embodiment of all that a spiritual being is and should be.  Can you be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-9163958734416081538?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/9163958734416081538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/stone-tiara.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/9163958734416081538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/9163958734416081538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/stone-tiara.html' title='stone tiara'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5629156233608947503</id><published>2009-10-01T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T23:42:23.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Llorona</title><content type='html'>Her eyes were filled with a sadness that is indescribable.  She never thought that she would come to the point of no return and live to regret that last decision.  Her children, surrounded by a peaceful watery plain.  Their grave, their resting place, their deathbed all in one.  And it was her, their mother that put them there.  A beautiful woman, with long jet black hair that caressed her waist and swished as she walked.  Her navy blue eyes invading the soul of anyone she met, analyzing and deciding their worth.   Though they would say otherwise, she loved her children with all of her heart.  She worshipped their sweet innocence and the distinct personalities that shined  through each of the three of them.  But she wanted to give them more than what she had.  As a widow with few practical skills, La Llorona struggled monthly, weekly, daily to keep herself and her children fed, clothed and housed.  Her oldest a twelve year old girl often asked when they would eat a real meal instead of half spoiled fruit and vegetables given to them by a sweet old man who ran a market by where they lived.  She would always respond, soon love, soon.  La Llorona decided that enough was enough and she would find someway to get a better life for herself and her children no matter what it took, so she joined a website with rich men looking for beautiful women to pamper and take care of.  She also looked for a job, but he lack of education and skills made it beyond difficult to get hired anywhere.  After posting her picture on the sugar daddy website she immediately got messages from men all over the world asking her to fly over to them, their treat of course, have dinner, go out, go shopping, everything imaginable for a luxury life.  It was all superficial but La Llorona knew that was basically what she needed.  She chatted with a few of the men and went out on a date or two in her area, but she wasn't inspired enough by what they were providing to continue the relationship.  Then a man with the screen name SnakeCharmer31 emailed her.  He was attractive, sweet, and genuinely interested in ending her difficulties, or that's how it seemed.  SnakeCharmer31 set La Llorona up with a three bedroom flat in the same neighborhood he lived in.  There was a good school district there and he could be available whenever she needed him.  SnakeCharmer31 seduced La Llorona with beautiful dresses and fancy events, he used every bit of his power over her to get what he wanted.  He gave her everything she needed, and in return she was doting and sexy and never complained.  But one night when La Llorona was supposed to go to a gala, her youngest boy became violently ill.  He was only three and she was worried, so she called SnakeCharmer31 and told him that she would not make it to the event and that she was sorry.  He spoke with her shortly, it was clear that he was livid that she would not be by his side to make him look good and do his bidding.  She had no other choice she pleaded, but SnakeCharmer31 did not see it that way.  He went to the event and did as he had always done before he had taken La Llorona under his scales, but his displeasure at her disobedience had tainted whatever twisted feelings he had had for her.  After the gala SnakeCharmer31 showed up at La Llorona's flat unannounced and demanded to speak to her.  He informed her that if she wished to continue living in the manner that she had become accustomed the children would have to become a non- issue.  She begged that he not take her out of his favor, and that her children were normally very healthy, but he was not to be swayed.  SnakeCharmer31 gave La Llorona a three day deadline, "take care of them or I will no longer take care of you."  Distraught, La Llorona began to think irrationally.  She woke up her three children and fed them each sleeping pills, telling them it would keep them from getting sick.  She carried them one by one into her Lexus sedan and drove to the LA river.  She started with the youngest, sobbing the entire time and threw him in the river.  The middle boy came next her face red with the acid of her pain she dropped him in too.  Finally was her girl.  Her pride and joy, the embodiment of all of the love that La Llorona possessed.  The little girls rosebud mouth was a hot pink from a mini makeover her mother had given her that night.  La Llorona's tears glistened on her only daughters face.  She could not take it any longer, and finally realized that living without her children made life unbearable, so she cradled her beautiful daughter and jumped into the stormy angry river with a cry.  She was born to cry and died to cry forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5629156233608947503?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5629156233608947503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/la-llorona.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5629156233608947503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5629156233608947503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/10/la-llorona.html' title='La Llorona'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4929919008141215467</id><published>2009-09-30T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T12:57:03.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard to accept</title><content type='html'>It's hard to think that it's been a year since i started to really accept everything that i allowed myself to be put through.  It might not seem as big and scary to other people, but when it gets in depth when all of the facts are laid out on the table, it's easier to see why everything was so traumatizing with my relationship with Hero.  I'm relieved that he hasn't tried to talk to me since i put my foot down, about how we could never be friends and how much he'd hurt me.  I'm not sure he could ever understand the extent of the amount of bullshit that he put me through.  But I still think that the hardest part is knowing that I put myself in that position, that at some point much earlier I should've gotten out of it.  That I, the person who never wants to be a victim, victimized myself.  Hard to fathom that I've done that.  That I in essence hurt myself too.&lt;div&gt;&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/4283484984487567534-4929919008141215467?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4929919008141215467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/hard-to-accept.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4929919008141215467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4929919008141215467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/hard-to-accept.html' title='Hard to accept'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4829866031413323788</id><published>2009-09-29T23:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T23:46:01.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parts of the Rose</title><content type='html'>The stem&lt;div&gt;strong and brutal with it's daggers piercing the tips of many fingers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the petals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;soft and inviting, drenched in color and calling your eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the center&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the scent&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the key ingredient to the magic of the flower&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4829866031413323788?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4829866031413323788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/parts-of-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4829866031413323788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4829866031413323788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/parts-of-rose.html' title='Parts of the Rose'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-4115446238423638097</id><published>2009-09-28T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T23:55:27.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CSI?</title><content type='html'>Crime scene Bullshit.  The phone is dusted and one perfect print turns up.  The ME approaches the body and immediately sees the method of death or a clue.  The Investigator practically sees a pin sized drop of blood from a mile away.&lt;div&gt;If only solving mysteries was that simple.  If only solving life was that simple, can you imagine?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Approaching your lover and seeing what wrong with them? Having some futuristic computer program find the source of the issue within a minute or two?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah Right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is not a TV show that's for sure, Maybe if i start to write a script it will start to play out the way i'd like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A girl can dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-4115446238423638097?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/4115446238423638097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/csi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4115446238423638097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/4115446238423638097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/csi.html' title='CSI?'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1729871257181987163</id><published>2009-09-24T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T00:51:06.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fake it till you make it</title><content type='html'>"I can't do that, I just can't!" I exclaimed, "Out of the question!"&lt;div&gt;"That's what you signed up for, not doing it is not an option!" the Director recanted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, i knew that that is exactly what I had signed up for but now, that the time was upon me, it seemed wholly impossible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No, No, No, No, NO! I will not kiss him! EVER!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Director storms off, not wanting to deal with me.  I know I know I did sign up for this, I showcased myself exquisitely exactly to get this part, but I didn't realize how much this 3 second act would effect me.  I have never done a stage kiss, and even though I don't really dislike my male counterpart I don't want to expose myself to him and the audience in that way.  Is it because of my lack of confidence? Or my own perceived lack of my sensuality? I honestly don't know.  Perhaps I really just don't want to.  But the choices are do it, or be black listed and the latter is really not an option.  So I suck it up.  My false pride allows me to immediately apologize to the Director, even though it's likely he still loathes me.  Here goes.  Hot lights, Heavy costume, Tense hands, Close the eyes, and Pucker up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1729871257181987163?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1729871257181987163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/fake-it-till-you-make-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1729871257181987163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1729871257181987163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/fake-it-till-you-make-it.html' title='Fake it till you make it'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3017889640199368710</id><published>2009-09-23T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T00:25:25.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>buy me the moon</title><content type='html'>Won't you buy me the moon? Whose silvery light calls down to me shining in my ears how much it loves me.&lt;div&gt;Won't you buy  me the moon? Who knew me before and longs for the touch of my bare feet on her skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you buy me the moon? Her soft cool embrace squeezing me tighter as the days go by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you buy me the moon? So that I can keep her without ever wondering where she has gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you buy me the moon? Whose haunting orb reflects in my eyes without asking permission.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you buy me the moon? Her picture inspiring so many images in the cultures of man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want the moon to be mine, my heart dripping red onto her sweet pure cream surface, creating a pattern for the whole world to see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Won't you be my moon so I can keep you forever? And when I have you forever,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you can Keep me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3017889640199368710?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3017889640199368710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/buy-me-moon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3017889640199368710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3017889640199368710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/buy-me-moon.html' title='buy me the moon'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5333517456630283466</id><published>2009-09-23T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T00:12:25.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I aspire to be as amazing as this</title><content type='html'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7WTOhQM3f2Q&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you haven't read Francesca Lia Block&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you really should&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5333517456630283466?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5333517456630283466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-aspire-to-be-as-amazing-as-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5333517456630283466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5333517456630283466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-aspire-to-be-as-amazing-as-this.html' title='I aspire to be as amazing as this'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5853618838889672988</id><published>2009-09-22T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T23:54:13.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the elusive muse</title><content type='html'>what inspires people.  like artists, writers, musicians, dancers? for me it can be something insanely simple.  One image. One phrase, can spark a paragraph, a page, an entire story.  How do so many authors continue books for hundreds even thousands of pages.  It always seems like an unattainable goal for me, which is so disappointing.  perhaps someday i'll get struck with that long lasting inspiration, I sure hope so&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5853618838889672988?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5853618838889672988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/elusive-muse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5853618838889672988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5853618838889672988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/elusive-muse.html' title='the elusive muse'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-843152276168719383</id><published>2009-09-20T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T13:17:44.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>little taste of freedom</title><content type='html'>Confined by the localization of everything.  Practically suffocated by the bright lights and recognition of the small city, with a hometown feel.  Trapped by a schedule.  But that was her life.&lt;div&gt;Get up, go to work, go to school, do homework, drive home, watch TV, sleep.  That's it, just a pattern.  She looked up at the mountains and west towards the coast longingly, wishing she cuold break this curse of familiarity and just go somewhere or do something different.  Chin on hand with her head turned to the window.  The slow droll of the professors voice invading her ears, she couldn't take it anymore, so she picked up her stuff and simply walked out without indication or sound.  With a full tank of gas she just started to drive west.  PCH seemed like the perfect pathway so she made a beeline for it hoping that she would get whatever it was that she was looking for.  The city smell started to dissipate closer she got to the shore, it was replaced by the deep briny air.  The scent was so refreshing that she rolled her window down and let the new wind blow the ocean breeze and her hair around her face and body.  The ocean was so harsh and yet so beautiful.  She stuck her hand out of the window and let the wind push it up and down like a mild rollercoaster.  The gentle motion mimicking the roll of the waves, she thought to herself "this is free, this is freedom."  Right when the low fuel light illuminated, she pulled over to the coast and got out of her car.  Leaving her shoes and possessions in the car she headed to the water.  Slow deliberate steps brought her closer and closer to the crashing water.  When she finally reached it, without hesitation clothes and all, she ran in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-843152276168719383?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/843152276168719383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-taste-of-freedom.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/843152276168719383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/843152276168719383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-taste-of-freedom.html' title='little taste of freedom'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3797635742883867874</id><published>2009-09-18T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T23:27:32.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsession</title><content type='html'>caught in the nuances of one thing&lt;div&gt;maybe it's blue hair or cat eyes or maybe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's just &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the shapes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the style &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the feel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that causes an unnatural attraction to a single thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a movie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a piece of clothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a character&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you want it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all the time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to be it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's haunting thoughts and lingering images&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;invading&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the being&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's scary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;refreshing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3797635742883867874?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3797635742883867874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/obsession.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3797635742883867874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3797635742883867874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/obsession.html' title='Obsession'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-7195925646316171984</id><published>2009-09-18T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T22:31:01.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>http://www.modcloth.com/&lt;div&gt;looking for the right look?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sick of the horrible fashion that's out right now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well i've found the place for great clothes and it's modcloth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seriously&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;uh-mazing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-7195925646316171984?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/7195925646316171984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7195925646316171984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/7195925646316171984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-3086399434633276289</id><published>2009-09-18T00:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T00:10:44.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing a part</title><content type='html'>Find the way to get there&lt;div&gt;To that place&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;where success breeds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;where they believe you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you believe you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not right now,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but through it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;work through it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Say the written words,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;make your lips and tongue form the syllables.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hold your body a different way, walk a different way, talk a different way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be a different way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you did it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;aren't You.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're them,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that's you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You believe you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-3086399434633276289?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/3086399434633276289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/playing-part.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3086399434633276289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/3086399434633276289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/playing-part.html' title='Playing a part'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-6266415520016589041</id><published>2009-09-12T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T00:06:42.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rediscovering the doll</title><content type='html'>My room is a mess, it's time to clean and purge, remover everything I no longer need.  Starting at the bottom. Papers, clothes, things strewn across the floor, mostly things I use often, some things just buried and neglected.  I get two extra large Hefty garbage bags, one for trash and one for donations.  I start at the bottom of the room, going through the papers and extras strewn across my floor.  Most of it goes in the trash bag since if I haven't looked for it in the last few weeks I probably don't need it.  I move on to the drawers under my bed and the shelves under my TV.  There isn't much to get rid of, mainly collectables and purses, things that I don't necessarily use, but that I want to keep as a just in case.  I rid myself of clothes that I will never wear, and shoes that are too worn down to ever look good with an outfit again.  I donate books to the library and finally get to the dusty cupboards above my closet.  As I pull down the bins that hold different hobbies and crafts I know those I cannot let go, mainly because I get them out once every six to eight months to tinker with them.  When I get to the very back I reach back and find a bin that I haven't touched in years.  I sneeze from all of the horrible allergens that have accumulated over the years.  I flip the lid off of the crate and gasp, then cough.  The dust has invaded my throat.  Hidden inside this bin is something very special, something of value in more ways than one.  I pull out a beautiful little girl, with porcelain-esque skin, softer than jersey with pink perfectly placed on the apples of her cheeks.  Her eyes are an emerald green that sparkle and shine with a glow that only plastic can emit.  A toothy grin graces her face, and her forehead is shrouded with  thick, lush, glossy blonde hair.  Her name is Kirsten, and her story comes in books.  A glisten glazes my eyes as I think of my younger self dressing this girl in historical and mixed mashed clothing, setting up her room and little bed, looking through the catalog to find her a friend and choose the most luxurious accessories and outfits.  Are the contents of this bin something I should get rid of? Probably.  But can I? No.  I think I'll tuck her away for my own little girl to enjoy someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-6266415520016589041?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/6266415520016589041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/rediscovering-doll.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6266415520016589041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/6266415520016589041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/rediscovering-doll.html' title='rediscovering the doll'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-5606830295858614167</id><published>2009-09-11T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T23:56:04.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So, you should read this</title><content type='html'>Recently the sequel to one of my favorite books came out.  This summer my mom and I have been practically eating books, most were really good but one definitely stood out above the rest.  It's called &lt;b&gt;The Hunger Games  by Suzanne Collins &lt;/b&gt;it's about post apocalyptic north america.  There is a capitol and twelve districts surrounding the capitol, and as punishment for a former uprising, the capitol forces the districts to send one boy and one girl between the ages of  12 and 18 to compete in a fight to the death and the entire thing is televised for the capitol's entertainment.  This book blew my mind, not only the awesome concept but also amazing writing.  Collins said she got her inspiration while flipping through channels and seeing reality TV and footage of the war in Iraq when the lines began to blur she got the idea for the book.  I would seriously recommend this book to anybody.  It;s meant to be a trilogy and with the release of the second book, leaves me ever more desperate for the final installment.  All i can think of is how it would feel to be a tribute and have to kill your peers in order to survive.  Can you imagine that?&lt;div&gt;so, basically,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;read it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's bombtastic,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seriously&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-5606830295858614167?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/5606830295858614167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-you-should-read-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5606830295858614167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/5606830295858614167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-you-should-read-this.html' title='So, you should read this'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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-4283484984487567534.post-1996651193716644299</id><published>2009-09-10T12:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T13:16:18.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Month</title><content type='html'>this was something i read from another writer, i believe she wrote to April, I am going to write to September &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear September,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm afraid that our once steady relationship has become strained.  It seems like you are flippy floppy, during days you're boiling hot but at night and in the early morning your frigid cold leaves me shivering with anxiety of what new stressors you'll bring.  Homework, Line memorization, and Work.  You are sucking away my time for my friends and boyfriend, but yet the opportunities you have presented draw me in like a siren.  There is of course the issue of money is something at the front of my mind.  This packed schedule is doing very little for the bulge in my wallet.  And don't ever get me talking about the sleep loss! Why oh why September have you stolen my ability to nap!  It's driving me insane.  September, you are slowly forcing me to make caffeine and  fourth meal my best friends, and don't ask my waistline about how that's going.  There is my Boyfriend's birthday to look forward to and the beginning of school which brings new experiences, but sometimes it feels like you have more trouble to offer than good and that leaves me longing for October.  I am excited for a few of your offerings and you are the beginning of the great season of fall, but our relationship is so conflicted that I'm unsure whether to love or loathe you.  I suppose that i should pay more attention to all the great things that you have given me, and when I take it slow and pay more mind to the greatness that is you, perhaps I don't dislike you so much after all, in fact I think we can mend this rocky relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hear from you soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much Love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alwyn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4283484984487567534-1996651193716644299?l=awritersmuseings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/feeds/1996651193716644299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-month.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1996651193716644299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4283484984487567534/posts/default/1996651193716644299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://awritersmuseings.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-month.html' title='Dear Month'/><author><name>Alwyn the Bandit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16075830423669960621</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>
