<?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-7830535</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:44:03.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Blew Up The House</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7830535.post-721278742933325152</id><published>2007-03-06T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T12:10:08.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Update</title><content type='html'>Last time I said I felt like dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see now, I'm not exactly toe-tagged and headed for the furnace. Not that I want to be cremated... actually, I don't know. But that's besides the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cycle of life is a tricky one that I don't care to try to analyze. It's unfortunate enough that I get the urge to try to criticize myself, which is completely useless and often ends in a fetal position on my bed. So, steering from that, and using something clever I like to refer to as a transition-- which, coincidentally, is something I have a real problem with including in essays-- I bet you (the reader, or no one, or someone, or a pedophile, or Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, Hannibal Lecter... you get the idea) can just guess how I react when someone &lt;em&gt;else&lt;/em&gt; decides they want to pass judgement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially when they've only really talked to said person 2 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mm. The background information is this: My best friend is now my boyfriend. This does not sound so weird in the detail that my best friend is a guy, no, but in the fact that I've suckered myself into another friend--&gt; boyfriend scenario. Well, not suckered, he's lovely in all the right ways (ahem, and places). Last time I dated my good ole buddy (not the same boy), it ended in the loss of virginity and a very pissed off mother. But that's completely alright, she's crazy, and not in the good kind of "Let's take your anti-depressants now, honey," way. Think the whole "fire and brimstone" bible thumping "HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS and his views on premarital sex," type of crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back on topic. The now-boyfriend is a dream, that is the positive. Another positive is that I can tell my English 120 instructor that she can kiss my biracial ass and that's all I have to say, "Thank you, come again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't really back on topic, that last thing about the English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The issue is with 'ze madre' of now-boyfriend. Fucking deija vu on a massive scale to me when I asked about the comment she made when I stayed over a week or two ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They were practically having sex on the couch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the public's information, I was, &lt;em&gt;in fact, &lt;/em&gt;caught on a couch the time I lost my virginity. I'll be DAMNED if I will be participating in coitus on that particular furniture ever again. Futhermore, I OBJECT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is damaging to my personal integrity and is libel towards my character in general. Why? Because she told now-boyfriend's stepmother as well, in those exact words. And in the near future, I am expected to be attending dinner with their family (now-b/f's dad, step-mom, and possibly the chill'uns). I'm like a horse shot in the ass with a tranq before I even get out of the gate. My reputation was damaged without even having done anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why hasn't this come up previously? He's only stayed over at my house too many times to count. I stay over once and I might as well have had "strumpet" stamped on my forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This put a damper on my day yesterday, but now-boyfriend is too sweet to let me sulk and not tell him what's wrong. He tried to explain that his mother was a hard person to read, which to me sent red lights flashing, "STAY AWAY FROM THE RESIDENCE! Or at least from the couch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a dorky individual, I'm smart, I'm pretty tolerant of whatever someone's into (granted that it doesn't hurt my friends or me), but come on. Am I not worthy of having any benefit of the doubt concerning the situation? He was only my best friend for over a year and now since we're intimate I got the whore stamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blows. I don't blow, this situation blows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, going over there is not a possibility, staying over there is a "hell no!" and, well, I don't know. Being around his mum is going to make me anxious now because I think she's going to pass judgement mighty quickly, and not in a positive light. It's unfortunate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As to whether I am that far in the relationship with now-boyfriend... we keep the doors locked, lights out, and our mouths shut, but the bed's got a squeakin' problem every once and awhile. So, to Mama of now-boyfriend....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing happened on the couch, nothing will ever happen on a couch involving coitus. But your boy just put it down last night like there was no tomorrow. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-721278742933325152?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/721278742933325152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=721278742933325152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/721278742933325152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/721278742933325152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2007/03/update.html' title='An Update'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-116222803818847447</id><published>2006-10-30T09:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T09:07:18.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think it's finally happened...</title><content type='html'>I really feel like dying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-116222803818847447?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/116222803818847447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=116222803818847447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116222803818847447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116222803818847447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-think-its-finally-happened.html' title='I think it&apos;s finally happened...'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-116137559262471588</id><published>2006-10-20T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T13:19:52.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two days and Nothing but Caffiene</title><content type='html'>I bet this does murder to your insides. Advil shuts my head up, though, so it's bearable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just really funny to me, I guess. New job, have to get a work permit. I'm going to like it there, but I'd still rather work at a comic book store. God, would I have so much to talk about there. Video games... not so much. Or CDs, music, and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music I'm just a crazy person about. I can't get enough of it, to tell you the truth. I'm listening to it right now. I'll probably be deaf at an early age... Now I'm just rambling. All the caffiene!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing... really. To focus, or rather, have the lack of focus, to deal with things. You're just too fuckin' hyper to care! Yes! Yesterday was even better. I was so completely gone... I need to get out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rocking back and forth is associated with being just a little bit out there, neh? It's just a little nervous energy! I don't know why people just can't be more accepting. I need to go running in circles, or dance like an epileptic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-116137559262471588?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/116137559262471588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=116137559262471588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116137559262471588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116137559262471588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/10/two-days-and-nothing-but-caffiene.html' title='Two days and Nothing but Caffiene'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-116113601571441720</id><published>2006-10-17T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T18:46:57.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm the Two-faced Girl working in Customer Service</title><content type='html'>I fucking hate people so damned much. Just so damned much, and I can relate to a computer screen better than an actual human. I'm going to go with the thought that that's probably... bad. Caffiene and a lot of bullshit talking is what's keeping me from just out and out locking myself away. What's worse is not knowing what the fuck I want. I really have no clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to be doing things with this guy I rarely see, do I want a relationship with someone so emotionally unstable? I've never been so damned confused about a person. Do I like him or just need to get laid? Thinking about sex like that sounds so degrading. My stomach has this nauseous thing that it's doing again... it's become comforting to feel sick. I don't tell people about these things, or anything else. I act like most things are fine. I stay quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kiss when I'm kissed, touch when I'm touched, recoil at each and every person when they joke with me. It's not that I feel better than everyone else, I'm not perfect, I'm not high and mighty with the intelligence of a damned scholar at the age of 17. No. It's not that. It's something I can't put my finger on. I'm not bipolar, I'm not fucked in the head. Sickness in the mind seems almost non-existant now. I just feel.... automatic. They're only reflexes and habits; adaptation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God I hate self-analyzation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-116113601571441720?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/116113601571441720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=116113601571441720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116113601571441720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/116113601571441720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-two-faced-girl-working-in-customer.html' title='I&apos;m the Two-faced Girl working in Customer Service'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-115575462599753766</id><published>2006-08-16T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T11:57:06.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At The Sake of Sounding A Little Too...</title><content type='html'>Political here, I'm sort of tired of reading the "I'm leaving because Bush is a douchebag and I don't like the government."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's not because Bush isn't a douche, or that the government is going downhill. It's because these people have no idea how any governments run things. Twenty bucks is they've only been there for a few weeks as a tourist. It's not great here, but what else do you know? And what if you're sadly mistaken in the belief that a country is the supposed Utopia you wanted to be in? It's going to be a rude awakening, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing. The election for a new President is in 2008. Most people talking are still in high school. The dude is going to be gone by the time you're out of high school, or in the middle of college. So, that's another knock off of your reasoning. God, get a clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the fun part, I'm planning on possibly moving to Japan soon. I'm aware that they've problems towards outsiders and also against women. It will be a big challenge for me when I go to study abroad there. But I'm not going into this to be blindsided. I'm not leaving because I hate Bush, his ass will be long gone before I actually finish my General Ed, I think. So, when other people are sitting there whining, I'm shaking my head in disappointment in the lack of logic that has somehow swept up our youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson of Today: Don't be Stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-115575462599753766?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/115575462599753766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=115575462599753766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/115575462599753766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/115575462599753766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/08/at-sake-of-sounding-little-too.html' title='At The Sake of Sounding A Little Too...'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-115103568541945791</id><published>2006-06-22T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T21:08:05.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buy It, Use It, Break It, Fix It, Change It</title><content type='html'>I want to talk... but I just don't have the nerve anymore. I'm really behind, and all it's gotten me is-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annoyed. With myself mainly, and everything else. Does it really take so little to set me off like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad. And I can't figure out why. I just feel that way, and I feel like crying, and it still hasn't hit me, that reason why I'm just- ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. There's tomorrow, where I'll be even more anti-social than I normally am. Maybe I'll get a second personality so I can be like Gollum. I'd be more creative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-115103568541945791?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/115103568541945791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=115103568541945791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/115103568541945791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/115103568541945791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/06/buy-it-use-it-break-it-fix-it-change.html' title='Buy It, Use It, Break It, Fix It, Change It'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-114512696480238181</id><published>2006-04-15T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T11:49:24.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Human Folks, I'm Just Like You</title><content type='html'>So please spare me the 'I don't want to deal with it' speech. Refrain from telling me that I don't want to deal with &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; problems. Let's think this through a little better, you're a moron. I don't want to fucking &lt;em&gt;deal with my friends personal issues with her boyfriend and it's my fault that you don't want to talk to me about what is going on? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And your manipulation tactics are lacking, and you can't keep sercrets worth a damn. I wonder sometimes why I even bother with shit like you. With people who think that the world revolves around them and that they know all. They believe they're in control. Let's see how in control someone can be when she's with an older guy, and yes it does matter in this case. You don't fucking magically let yourself change. You don't get all bitchy or alienate someone behind their back. And that was a bad move in itself, genius I'm in the same damn room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's get something straight. I have my own problems. Oh, wait, of course, right. I'm not supposed to am I? I'm supposed to cater to your needs, to other's needs, when I'm barely acknoledging that things I care about are hanging in the balance. If I ignore what's happening any longer I might lose two things more precious to me than life itself. Fucking bullshit, like you, like your insipid little pedophiliac boyfriend, are shit on my list. And if you're not wanting to tell me anything, don't blame it on my not caring. I fucking listen to you all the damn time, I let you in my house. I give you advice when you seem lost and then when I get treated unfairly it comes back to me like this: not in a well-spoken conversation, but on someone else's AIM convo when I'm staying at their house. What kind of shitless little twat do you have to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all over a boy. A testosterone-filled Young Adult that cares nothing about how a girl would feel around her  first boyfriend. That everyone knows what's going to happen, but you're blindsided by your romanticized reality that is the equivalent of a relationship Utopia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How fucking deluded do you have to be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-114512696480238181?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/114512696480238181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=114512696480238181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114512696480238181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114512696480238181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-human-folks-im-just-like-you.html' title='I&apos;m Human Folks, I&apos;m Just Like You'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-114256688920551916</id><published>2006-03-16T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T19:41:29.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have You Ever...</title><content type='html'>Seen what a drug addict does when they're trying to convince you they're done for good? Well, there wasn't a drug addict, instead it was a teenage girl. An attention whore, desperate for the spotlight and a chance to play the mistreated 'woes me' girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I swear I'm not lying!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want an encore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about me?! I'm going to be held back!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has to be gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm tired of hearing this story and her pleading to her mother that she doesn't know what she did, or that she can't seem to pull her shit together and how she supposedly takes the blame but plays the martyr in the story of her bad mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You fail, you failed, it's not going to change at school. No matter whether the school is in Redondo or San Diego, the letters don't magically change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have to see those lines on her skin again, I'll kick her. She deserves that for being such an attention whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at me, I'm all scarred because you broke me, oh woe's me my daddy yelled at me, my daddy I treat like shit and call names but oh he yelled at me and I put the knife in the cupboard just so you can see. See? I'm so depressed and lonely and no one understands me and I have to cut cut cut see? You see the lines I rolled up my sleeves can you see? LOOK!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking moron, I see it. You attention whore, when will you get enough? Because I'm sick of the attention you bring to this house, and the shit you pull. You got the door prizes, the backpack, the outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go home. Get counseling, play the martyr, start being real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now you're all fake, and no one will want to be with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-114256688920551916?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/114256688920551916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=114256688920551916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114256688920551916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114256688920551916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/03/have-you-ever.html' title='Have You Ever...'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-114145937785419879</id><published>2006-03-03T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T00:02:57.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well She's Not Bleeding On The Ballroom Floor....</title><content type='html'>What can I say that hasn't already been said?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been drinking a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired a lot, just tired. Physically, mentally, spiritually. Haha, can I get a little soul out here?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, it's my thinking again. Just getting me into the trouble I need to be in. Doesn't giving a shit about anything seem like a waste of time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School. I don't see the importance. Stephens (yes, plural). I shouldn't care I think they're all cute. It's an impulse and I just don't want it there. Anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a depression, I don't think. But I can't tell what it is. I'm not crying, not like I do when I'm mentally overwhelmed/depressed/pmsing. So, is it something new? A new wave of desired apathy? No way to seem to place it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things should go my way for a day. That'd be fun. Just have everything I plan work out nicely, have some kind of meaning, maybe even get a few good memories. I need a good distraction. Because apparently sex never worked for me. Pain did for a time, but that creates drama I don't want. Always comes with a price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I be single or try to date? Do I even care enough to want to get along with someone for that long? Is Brad right in thinking that it's all just awkward situations. Or maybe I'm still a little buzzed, not drunk, and thinking a lot of things make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I figure I want nothing serious, but will the other side think the same way? If I did get with someone, that is. Because to tell the truth the only person I feel partial to is obsessed with wrestling and hasn't dated anyone. And he's 17. Oh joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh. I'm tired of bitching that I can't turn on the apathy. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-114145937785419879?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/114145937785419879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=114145937785419879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114145937785419879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/114145937785419879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/03/well-shes-not-bleeding-on-ballroom.html' title='Well She&apos;s Not Bleeding On The Ballroom Floor....'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-113959758740139276</id><published>2006-02-10T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T10:55:24.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's see if this works.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-113959758740139276?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/113959758740139276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=113959758740139276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/113959758740139276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/113959758740139276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/02/lets-see-if-this-works.html' title='Let&apos;s see if this works.'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-113666255411199856</id><published>2006-01-07T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T11:35:54.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And Just Like That~</title><content type='html'>Memories erased!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And things are clearer, I suppose. One less person to worry about hating me. It feels good, to have that chapter closed after so long. But it took till 3 in the morning XP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, some things take time, what does it matter that the conversation after 2 years was a few hours. Two years... the change has done a number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, I've got life to keep me busy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-113666255411199856?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/113666255411199856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=113666255411199856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/113666255411199856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/113666255411199856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2006/01/and-just-like-that.html' title='And Just Like That~'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-112568091103480926</id><published>2005-09-02T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T10:08:31.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ack... Tired</title><content type='html'>blah... Sleeping is horribly taken for granted, let me tell you. You miss it like hell when you don't get it, and if you oversleep you feel sicky too. I just can't find a medium that I can work with.... Besides that, babysitting wasn't so bad, got some reading done for AP English. I had no patience to work on IDs, but I'll have to this weekend. And then I have Monday off! ::jumps for joy::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just have to figure out what I want to do.... Oh yeah, party on Saturday too. Which means that it's another day I don't the sleep I want. Closing blows real monkeys, I'll have you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, no one will get half of this post because I'm just so fucked... I'm calling in, my incoherency should be enough to prove that I'll probably fall asleep at the merch desk. Or worse, considering the nausea is getting pretty gnarly... migraine, I know it. And I still haven't had time to train for soccer. Damn it. Maybe I'll do that this Monday. Or maybe not, maybe I'll sleep. Psssh, sleep is for 4th period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do like the CD a lot, music is good, keeps me awake for the most part. Still between Time Consumer and "Something or other" Conspirator.. forgot the beginning of the title. This might be my favorite comic book series... shit, it mixes music and comics! What can be wrong with that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow... this is going to be an interesting read, for people who actually read these things.... who actually reads these things? Besides the people force-fed to click on some annoying bulletin of a person who thinks the world revolves around them... glad I don't have friends like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should stop now... I really should. This post will be nothing but mixed up gargle, real shoddy piece of literature.... That's what my common sense is telling me. Boredom says different, but Filter... damn Filter came back from vacation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::Finds hammer:: Oh, Filter....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There we go. I'm actually in a pretty good mood, but it's so overwhelming to have so much to do coupled with my being fairly exhausted and all. I have money, but nothing to spend it on really... then I'm supposed to get my check, but I'm calling in so I'll just get it tomorrow and see whether I can get... Oh no.... I hope they don't make me do the cotton candy again, I can't do that to save my life. Oh.... But back to the check, I'll see if I can either get my mom to pick it up today or tomorrow I'll try to cash it on my 30.. because I'm working until 4. Nyeh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, really now, I'm done....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-112568091103480926?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/112568091103480926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=112568091103480926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112568091103480926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112568091103480926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/09/ack-tired.html' title='Ack... Tired'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-112521422934229535</id><published>2005-08-28T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T00:30:29.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You May Have Won the Battle, but You Have Not Won the War!</title><content type='html'>So I opened at Work on Saturday with some of the others. My job, among other little things to prepare for the day, was to make the cotton candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a stare down more than a few times. Had to wait for the opportune moment to make my move. It bit back a lot, but I finally won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which would have been the end of pain for the day had I not been stupid and made a bargain with little kids. I put my hand above a candle for 11 seconds. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? About a half an hours worth at LEAST.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-112521422934229535?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/112521422934229535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=112521422934229535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112521422934229535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112521422934229535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/08/you-may-have-won-battle-but-you-have.html' title='You May Have Won the Battle, but You Have Not Won the War!'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-112234666671557745</id><published>2005-07-25T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T19:57:46.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pair of Quizzes</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/K/Kestrachern6/1120166751_rlsElfGirl.JPG" border="0" alt="Elf Girl" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your easy-going personality is best represented by&lt;br /&gt;the bow and arrow. You probably dont like the&lt;br /&gt;spotlight too much, and would much rather be&lt;br /&gt;backstage making sure everything is working&lt;br /&gt;right. You have a cool, level head and a broad&lt;br /&gt;perspective on life. This combination makes&lt;br /&gt;you an excellent advice-giver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Kestrachern6/quizzes/What%20sort%20of%20Weapon%20best%20Represents%20your%20Personality%3F%20%20(anime%20pics!)/"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:-1;"&gt;What sort of Weapon best Represents your Personality? (anime pics!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:-3;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/N/Nariel-flame/1108239394_nangelform.jpg" border="0" alt="HASH(0x934a760)" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Goddess of Ice and Hope. You are a creative&lt;br /&gt;wonder. Always calm and collected, you hold the&lt;br /&gt;awe of many people and you are exceptionally&lt;br /&gt;logical. You are an inspirational beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Nariel-flame/quizzes/Which%20gorgeous%20goddess%20are%20you%3F%20For%20girls!%20(breath%20taking%20pics!)%20/"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:-1;"&gt;Which gorgeous goddess are you? For girls! (breath taking pics!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:-3;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-112234666671557745?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/112234666671557745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=112234666671557745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112234666671557745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112234666671557745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/07/pair-of-quizzes.html' title='Pair of Quizzes'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-112196656252013492</id><published>2005-07-21T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T10:22:42.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comic-Con</title><content type='html'>Any time I say that word I just smile. This one was good, it was awesome. I loved it. I loved it even more. And I'm really sad it's gone, but my legs like the break from walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's happened since then? A new job @ Chuck E. Cheese. Yeah, laugh, but I'll be getting paid. I need money... shit. So on Monday I'm getting the training schedule and such. Whoopee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-112196656252013492?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/112196656252013492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=112196656252013492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112196656252013492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112196656252013492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/07/comic-con.html' title='Comic-Con'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-112027138057423856</id><published>2005-07-01T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T19:30:43.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Again</title><content type='html'>So I went to Warped Tour, and everyone who has had a conversation with me knows it. I went backstage, you get the idea. Thanks again, Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far summer has been good to me. I'm just weird so I probably won't say much else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you @ Comic-con.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-112027138057423856?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/112027138057423856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=112027138057423856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112027138057423856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/112027138057423856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/07/never-again.html' title='Never Again'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111784795120451437</id><published>2005-06-03T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T18:19:11.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrical</title><content type='html'>"I got the message long before you said you knew&lt;br /&gt;There was no chance of us at all&lt;br /&gt;With no velocity and empty-headed hard and far-to-long&lt;br /&gt;I spent two years alone with you&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I had forgotten&lt;br /&gt;You came back soft without a sound&lt;br /&gt;You said we were an accident&lt;br /&gt;With accidents you’ll never know what could have been&lt;br /&gt;So we were an accidentYou’ll always be my favorite one&lt;br /&gt;You hit the road and left me an ocean&lt;br /&gt;I can't swim in the silence of your skin-skin please let me in&lt;br /&gt;Side the times we never had right Inside two years alone with you&lt;br /&gt;You said we were an accident&lt;br /&gt;With accidents you’ll never know what could have been&lt;br /&gt;So we were an accidentYou’ll always be my favorite one&lt;br /&gt;we could have beenwe could have been&lt;br /&gt;instead of accidental running always running&lt;br /&gt;why can’t you believeLong winded promises of future company&lt;br /&gt;Up close the sound remains the same&lt;br /&gt;Without the reign of terror over every momentary change&lt;br /&gt;We are exactly as before&lt;br /&gt;You hit the road and left me an ocean&lt;br /&gt;I can't swim in the silence of your skin-skin please let me in&lt;br /&gt;Side the time I had to forget you&lt;br /&gt;Inside no chance of us at all"- Motion City Soundtrack &lt;em&gt;Favorite Accident&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am I more than you bargained for yet&lt;br /&gt;I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear&lt;br /&gt;Cause that's just who I am this week&lt;br /&gt;Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a notch in your bedpost&lt;br /&gt;But you're just a line in a song(A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)&lt;br /&gt;Drop a heart, break a name&lt;br /&gt;We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team&lt;br /&gt;We're going down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it&lt;br /&gt;We're going down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it&lt;br /&gt;Is this more than you bargained for yet&lt;br /&gt;Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet&lt;br /&gt;Wishing to be the friction in your jeans&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a notch in your bedpost&lt;br /&gt;But you're just a line in a song(Notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)&lt;br /&gt;Drop a heart, break a name&lt;br /&gt;We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team&lt;br /&gt;We're going down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it[x2]&lt;br /&gt;Down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it&lt;br /&gt;We're going down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull itWe're going down, down (down, down)&lt;br /&gt;Down, down (down, down)&lt;br /&gt;We're going down, down (down, down)&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull itWe're going down, down in an earlier round&lt;br /&gt;And Sugar, we're going down swinging&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your number one with a bullet&lt;br /&gt;A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it"- Fall Out Boy &lt;em&gt;Sugar, We're going down&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got bored, go boredom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111784795120451437?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111784795120451437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111784795120451437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111784795120451437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111784795120451437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/06/lyrical.html' title='Lyrical'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111664158303185511</id><published>2005-05-20T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T19:13:03.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy</title><content type='html'>So let me map out my weekend for anyone who gives a shit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday~ Instead of going to Alan's Music Center, I am watching my little brothers while their mother gets surgery for the 2nd time on her leg, from about 10:30-?. The first doctor screwed it up. Might end up taking them to the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday~ Soccer game. And, hopefully, if I can convince anyone to go with me, I will finally get to see Star Wars III. Also, I'll apply for a job and Vons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111664158303185511?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111664158303185511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111664158303185511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111664158303185511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111664158303185511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/05/busy.html' title='Busy'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111620522091653057</id><published>2005-05-15T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T18:00:20.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T &amp; S</title><content type='html'>Well I'm feeling weird, and emotions are all crazy at the moment. However, I have never understood certain lyrics in such an extent as today. We'll see what you can get from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I sit all night, I sit still all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I won't tell one soul, I won't tell one soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I just can't get it straight you see and oh well that distraction inside of me, oh well&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I'm gonna get up, I'll just admit it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I only get up for you"- Downtown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"What do you do with the left over you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;and how do you know, when to let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;where does the good go, where does the good go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;look me in the heart and tell me you won't go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;look me in the eye and promise no love's like our love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;look me in the heart and un break broken, it won't happen"- Where does the good go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"I won't take everything good and move it away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I know you're sad even though you say that you're not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I know you're scared even though you say that you're not"- I won't be left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"You're out of my mind, out of my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;out of my mind, out of my mind"- Walking with a Ghost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"We didn't do it to be happy, so i can whine"- We didn't do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Anyway, I have been frustrated. About a good many things, and I have been distracting myself as best I can. I swear I am annoying my freshman friend to no end, but I think he's too nice to admit it. I'll leave him alone, Pops is done and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm doing summer swim, which has nothing to do with my school. It's just something weird. And my birthday camping thing is close at hand. Don't know what else to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111620522091653057?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111620522091653057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111620522091653057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111620522091653057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111620522091653057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/05/t-s.html' title='T &amp; S'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111535003007488507</id><published>2005-05-05T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T20:27:10.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>I better do this now before I just lose it. Geez, I have an AP Euro exam tomorrow too, and this will just eat away at me if I don't take care of it. Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;So I write something on a message board about activism (women's rights), and I get this response from this idiotic chick who decides that she should share her crazy conspiracies with people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"and all it takes is a bitch that goes against women in favour of men to make it all go backwards again!! but what would i know I'm a nutso!so before women come preaching womens rights and shit to me they should make sure they arent the perpetrators of worse harm.(specially kids)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...What...a...fucking...moron. What a fucking moron. I mean, seriously, I wanted to tell her, "Yeah, yes, you're a nutso, a lunatic, a nutjob, a fucking convincing looney! You should be on the streets with signs about God talking to you you're that demented! Fuck off, and stop wasting my time and energy on figuring out why the hell you can even type full sentences with your 'bitches' and whatnot."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Instead, I type this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Because I have done such injustice to you by asking what happened between you and Robbie and choosing to believe him in his explanation than someone who wants to call me a bitch. I've seen your posts in some boards, and most of the time it is inconsiderate banter. Robbie just seems normal and polite, and if he did attack you I'm sorry, but it's not going to make a difference what I think of you or not. As for the preaching, it's history, look it up. I don't have to preach if it's already happened. Just because you're angry at me because of some vendetta you have with Robbie doesn't mean I'm against women's rights. Dear God. Anyone else have something they would like to share?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Of course, she has to respond with this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"yeah I'd like to share an atom bomb with you but i could put it to better use among other evildoers. And how do you get to feeling so superior when its evident that you're just another of his cyber buddies!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Now I'm at a loss for words, or truthfully put, at a loss for calm words that would make things better. She's fucking crazy, that's it. "Evildoers"? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What the hell? Who does this bitch think she is, deciding she wants to be all "evildoers" and point fingers when she's talking about fucking atom bombs! I should damn well feel superior after I see your posts, you go off on stupid things for no reason! Atom bomb? Come on, are you twelve? Go ahead and be pissed at me, but do it in a smarter matter, like -I don't know- write a rant and be done with it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I swear, she's trying to create some fucking reason for others to hate me or something. I hope it backfires. Which it probably will, this girl is just insane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111535003007488507?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111535003007488507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111535003007488507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111535003007488507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111535003007488507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/05/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111489061311430305</id><published>2005-04-30T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T12:50:13.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hmm, I changed things again. I got bored and thought that it would look better with something GREEN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Haha, nothing much as been happening that I would like to share here. I've been on swim for awhile, but lately I've been missing a lot and it's not good. I don't know, I'm weird. Some bumpy things going on in my personal life, but I've had a friend that's been helping me through it when she can, and I can't thank her enough for that. She knows who she is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I think I've decided what I want to be when I grow up, if I grow up. Haha. I want to be a writer, and if I can go further with my drawing I want to be a comic artist. I don't care what anybody says, I don't care what anyone thinks, that's what I want to do. And I don't give a fuck about money!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Seriously, that's why I've been so reluctant to say shit about what I want to do, and it was just stupid. Since when have I really wanted to be ruled by money? Since when does that change how I should live or how I want to spend my life? Fuck that! I want to write, and write I shall, whatever the hell I want to write too. So that's what I'm doing, just thought you should know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111489061311430305?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111489061311430305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111489061311430305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111489061311430305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111489061311430305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/04/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-111007795668686933</id><published>2005-03-05T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T18:59:16.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Worst Things Happen....</title><content type='html'>Does anyone ever notice that when you become extremely bored, you start to put more thought into things than what you normally would? Well, yeah. I'm bored. So I'm thinking, "What the hell am I going to do in life after high school?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The usual answer to that question tends to be a "I'll think about it later", but now I'm stuck on it for the aforementioned reason. It is rather pointless to think about it when you're a sophomore who would just about laugh at the mention of completed homework and your name in the same sentence, let alone a career or life-style of some kind. My dad had asked me about what I wanted to be, and way before I realized that I am too horribly lazy to even remotely attempt this career I would have determined that I wanted to be a lawyer. You know what happened to that idea? A freaking transcript and a night of boredom like this. This night of boredom will be dedicated to the fixing of that problem I suppose. Maybe I will figure out what the hell I can drag my fat ass off to do when I'm out of the community college I barely get into. Another thing that goes to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many thoughts are running through my mind, I really hate it a lot. I mean, really really hate it. Like right at this moment I am thinking about school, career, music, art, comic books, swim team, my weight, my friends, the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, is that last one a dinger. I look back and think that I must have been a moron. I really fucked up my freshman year, in numerous ways. And thinking that I only deserve part of the blame is bullshit. It never makes anyone feel any better. It hasn't made me feel better after more than a year. It hasn't fixed those awful words that go through my mind when I try to sleep. I can't sleep. It sucks. And I know that I'm in one of those annoying moods I get in when I start to feel like the world and my life is way too big to think about. But I do it anyway, because I am bored. It's becoming a cycle, and I'm starting to worry more and more about my mental health. Those personality disorders that get thrown at others start to make sense, and those painkillers are starting to look good. I hate that way of thinking, and I never mean it... I suppose. It's just something I start to think about when I start to really think, you know? Of course you don't, who reads these anyway? Sometimes I think them shrinks might be good, because sometimes I think that if there was something wrong, I could be sure. And then get repaired, somehow. Or just be able to stop listening to these thoughts that come to bother me when I'm bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No matter which way you go, no matter which you stay, you're out of my mind."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-111007795668686933?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/111007795668686933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=111007795668686933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111007795668686933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/111007795668686933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/03/worst-things-happen.html' title='The Worst Things Happen....'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110687225152076071</id><published>2005-01-27T16:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T16:30:51.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, I am working on writing quite a bit now. And drawing. I have a picture I drew, check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/redtailhawk8903/colorfairy.jpg"&gt;http://www.geocities.com/redtailhawk8903/colorfairy.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out, the original artwork was Amy Brown, and I just redrew it (did not trace!), I liked the fairy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110687225152076071?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110687225152076071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110687225152076071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110687225152076071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110687225152076071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/01/hey-i-am-working-on-writing-quite-bit.html' title=''/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110608843863930671</id><published>2005-01-18T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T14:47:18.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Go</title><content type='html'>I'm sick, again. So I'm writing on fanfiction again. I've gotten up to 10 chapters on the thing, which is crazy. I guess I'm starting to like writing again, now that I don't have english this semester. I'm listening to Frou Frou's "Let Go" from the Garden State soundtrack. Really random and all, but writing about myself gets boring. I'm gonna go type out another chapter for fanfiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110608843863930671?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110608843863930671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110608843863930671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110608843863930671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110608843863930671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/01/let-go.html' title='Let Go'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110557775630565369</id><published>2005-01-12T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T16:55:56.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Change</title><content type='html'>I changed the look again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, today was the day for people to comment about my hair. It's been the same for awhile.... So it's pretty confusing as to why they mention it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm really bored.... Maybe I should work on my homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110557775630565369?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110557775630565369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110557775630565369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110557775630565369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110557775630565369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-change.html' title='Another Change'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110548489304315666</id><published>2005-01-11T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T15:10:44.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>School in Session</title><content type='html'>So I looked on myspace today cause I had nothing better to do, and I found out that there are a lot of people that I know on there. Not like good friends with them know, but people I've met through functions at school or through my cousin before he moved. It was a little weird looking at their stuff, and how much better they looked than mine (just kidding).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My site thing is kind of being postponed, which sucks. I had some good plans for it, so yeah. I feel a little angsty at the moment, though there's really no reason to be. &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/unfortunatevendetta/Violet.jpg"&gt;http://www.geocities.com/unfortunatevendetta/Violet.jpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's one of my character designs for my senior project, which I don't really need to be worrying about until my junior year. I guess it's better to focus on things ahead more than things that are coming up very soon. Like the fact that Biology might actually have some thought to it instead of it being like kindergarden all over again. First days are always boring. Even spanish had been pretty boring, Sr Rhea has this really boring voice that makes you want to sleep. Unfortunately, I hadn't been able to doze off before he said the most cruel thing any teacher could ever utter.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO CD PLAYERS IN CLASS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110548489304315666?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110548489304315666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110548489304315666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110548489304315666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110548489304315666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/01/school-in-session.html' title='School in Session'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110460925873169212</id><published>2005-01-01T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T11:54:18.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Resolution</title><content type='html'>So I called up my friend Jennifer and let her know about my New Years resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Stop the hate in my life, I'm planning on apologizing to everyone that I may have pissed off, or didn't like for quite awhile. Well, except for one person because of recent actions brought to my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Get the hell out of Helix. I really don't like it there, I need out of it. And it's a thing not a person, so it's not really interfering with the first resolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Drop the lying friend. And it's done, I'm sick of her talking behind my back. No one deserves that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now that I've gotten that off of my chest.... It didn't really do anything. I'm still very angry, and I suppose now I just have to wait. I love Audioslave... Chris Cornell is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110460925873169212?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110460925873169212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110460925873169212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110460925873169212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110460925873169212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-years-resolution.html' title='New Years Resolution'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110377666154095523</id><published>2004-12-22T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T20:37:41.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas!!! In 3-2...</title><content type='html'>Ummm, geez. I can't figure out what to write. It's been awhile, so I thought I should post even though like no one reads it... oh wait I know what I can write now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT KIND OF PUNK ASS BITCH DOES STACEY THINK SHE IS?!! LYING TO ME LIKE THAT, AND SHE DAMN WELL KNOWS IT SINCE HER ASS GOT CAUGHT!! THAT'S LIKE THE WORST THING TO EVER DO TO ME!! ::SCREAMS::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110377666154095523?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110377666154095523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110377666154095523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110377666154095523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110377666154095523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-in-3-2.html' title='Christmas!!! In 3-2...'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-110238969695554844</id><published>2004-12-06T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T19:21:36.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home for holidays</title><content type='html'>Well the 1st half of the year is almost over. And with the deadlines coming up, I am worrying beyond the limit. I guess I have X-mas to look forward to. its really awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-110238969695554844?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/110238969695554844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=110238969695554844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110238969695554844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/110238969695554844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/12/home-for-holidays.html' title='Home for holidays'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109926388573604473</id><published>2004-10-31T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T15:05:26.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quizzys</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="fhg" src="http://images.quizilla.com/C/carmabell/1091460757_rpleangel5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a "Purple Angel". You're a fighter&lt;br /&gt;and you know it. If you were an angel, you'd be&lt;br /&gt;part of the celestial army. You're tough as&lt;br /&gt;nails and definately a go big or go home&lt;br /&gt;person. You do everything to the best of your&lt;br /&gt;ability. You're not like the gaudian angel&lt;br /&gt;where you just protect your friends but you&lt;br /&gt;protect everybody. You can't stand to see&lt;br /&gt;people suffering and you'd do anything to&lt;br /&gt;change that. You're a very fun person as long&lt;br /&gt;as people are on your good side and you're very&lt;br /&gt;laid back. (if you cannot see the pics, go near the&lt;br /&gt;bottom of my homepage and find your result.&lt;br /&gt;look closely to make sure your look in the&lt;br /&gt;right place)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/carmabell/quizzes/What%20Color%20Angel%20Are%20You?"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;What Color Angel Are You? (ANIME PICS)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="bluehair" src="http://images.quizilla.com/R/Ruri-chan/1039892309_Ablue.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your anime hair color is blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Ruri-chan/quizzes/What%20is%20your%20anime%20hair%20color?/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;What is your anime hair color?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="svsvs" src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/T1000/1067030136_DNiceHalloweenSpider.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sneaky, sneaky one. You are witty and a master of&lt;br /&gt;trickery. You like to scare people and perhaps&lt;br /&gt;rob them. Haha. You could be a good dealer and&lt;br /&gt;negotiator, which is interesting. You barely&lt;br /&gt;ever get caught in what you do, and you like&lt;br /&gt;it. That's why you might do some things you're&lt;br /&gt;not supposed to--you know you'll get away with&lt;br /&gt;it. It's people like you that could&lt;br /&gt;unexpectedly get caught. Anyway have a good&lt;br /&gt;time tricking people. Have a Happy Halloween,&lt;br /&gt;Eight-Legged Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/T1000/quizzes/What%20Halloween%20Figure%20Are%20You?"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;What Halloween Figure Are You? (MANY RESULTS WITH SIX ALL NEW ONES!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v282/Eyara15/anime_babes486.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Monotype Corsiva;color:#640064;"&gt;Your Beauty lies&lt;br /&gt;in Mystery. Captivating, mysterious and alone. You&lt;br /&gt;are the girl in the little&lt;br /&gt;black number that no one seems to know, the eternal&lt;br /&gt;mystery girl. You make it a&lt;br /&gt;point to never let anyone know more about you than&lt;br /&gt;you want them to and do a&lt;br /&gt;very good job of it. You're there one minute and&lt;br /&gt;gone the next leaving them in&lt;br /&gt;wonder of who you really are. A mature and normally&lt;br /&gt;calm individual, quiet and&lt;br /&gt;enjoy spending many hours of the day on your own,&lt;br /&gt;most likely preferring night&lt;br /&gt;to day . You love the dark and some may find you a&lt;br /&gt;bit strange. You seem to be&lt;br /&gt;rather distant and cold making hard for people to&lt;br /&gt;get close to you, though you&lt;br /&gt;probably like the distance they usually keep. You&lt;br /&gt;probably wear make-up, but&lt;br /&gt;concentrate more around your eyes than anything.&lt;br /&gt;You know the effect you have&lt;br /&gt;and enjoy keeping people in wonder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Monotype Corsiva;color:#640064;"&gt;Some Things&lt;br /&gt;That Represent You:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Monotype Corsiva;color:#640064;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Element:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark, Water &lt;b&gt;Animal: &lt;/b&gt;Panther &lt;b&gt;Color:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Black, Maroon, Dark&lt;br /&gt;Tones &lt;b&gt;Song:&lt;/b&gt; In The Shadows by The&lt;br /&gt;Rasmus&lt;b&gt;Expression:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sly Smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Monotype Corsiva;color:#640064;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gemstone:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Diamond&lt;b&gt; Mythological Creature:&lt;/b&gt; Demon,&lt;br /&gt;Vampire &lt;b&gt;Sign:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scorpio&lt;b&gt; Planet:&lt;/b&gt; Venus&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hair Color:&lt;/b&gt; Black &lt;b&gt;Eye Color: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garnet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Monotype Corsiva;color:#640064;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quote: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the shadows for all time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Jai16/quizzes/Where%20Does%20Your%20Beauty%20Lie?"&gt;Where Does Your Beauty Lie? ..::Amazing Pictures And Ten Detailed Results::..&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109926388573604473?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109926388573604473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109926388573604473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109926388573604473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109926388573604473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/10/quizzys.html' title='Quizzys'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109875574030101246</id><published>2004-10-25T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T18:55:40.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sophmore</title><content type='html'>WELL... The sophmore boards preparation has begun. I was ahead of the game too, until my camcorder decided to fuck itself up. So now I'm frantically trying to see if I can borrow my b/f's neighbor's camcorder. He probably thinks I'm all stalking him now... poor guy. I saw Team America yesterday. It was funny, but unfortunately now I know what puppets having sex looks like.... ick!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109875574030101246?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109875574030101246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109875574030101246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109875574030101246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109875574030101246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/10/sophmore.html' title='Sophmore'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109839972436832956</id><published>2004-10-21T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-21T16:02:04.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="width:450px;"&gt;&lt;table style="border:0px;width:450px;" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;p style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:14px;font-weight:bold;color:#fff;background-color:#1F5892;width:450px;text-align:center;padding:5px;padding-bottom:0px;margin:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/surveys.php?id=6573" style="color:#fff;" title="the zen quiz"&gt;the zen quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;p style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:11px;color:#fff;background-color:#1F5892;width:450px;text-align:center;padding:5px;margin:0px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Created by &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/users.php?id=zendeomen" style="color:#fff;" title="User Profile"&gt;zendeomen&lt;/a&gt; and taken 667 times on &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com" style="color:#fff;" title="bzoink!"&gt;bzoink!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;have you ever&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;started a small scale revolution&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;erm...does setting fires count?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;tackled an athlete playing a game while you were a spectator&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;nope, though that is a good idea... how can you tackle a surfer?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;been arrested, what for?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;nothing, and not hoping to be&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;used a rhyming dictionary&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;what's that?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;been suspended, what for?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;I forgot, it was in elementary school.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;impersonated the pope&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;nope, Wanda Sykes does a pretty good job by herself&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;shook hands with the devil&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;nope&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;created one of these quizes?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;nope&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;single handedly collapsed a nations economy?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;ack, now you know my secret plan!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;tell me more about yourself&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;forget your name, what name do you go by&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Marie/Melissa&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;what name do you wish you went by&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Marie&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;what color do you wish your hair was&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Blue at the moment.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;and your eyes?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Hazel&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;what do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Comic Illustrator&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;who is your role model? besides me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Artists in general&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;whats your favorite...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;3 bands&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Hoobastank, Metallica,&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;3 song&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Hikari, Can I Buy You A Drink?,&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;3 movies&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;??Too easily amused&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;3 books&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;The Picture of Dorian Gray, Resident Evil Series, Princess Diaries&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;color&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Green&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;day of the week&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Monday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;way to say \&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Most explicit words and ACK&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;time of day&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;morning&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;time of year&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;feb/oct/dec&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;holiday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Halloween/Christmas/birthday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;would you...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;become a vampire and be eternally damned&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;if they existed, maybe&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;make someone else one&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;haha, no unless I needed a toy&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;would you make me one?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;I dono you&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;do something just because you said you would&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Yeah, I have obligations&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;go back and change time, not knowing the effect it would have&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;no way!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;sights unseen&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;do you believe in god&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;not sure, kinda&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;or fate?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;when its good &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;how bout satan?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;dono, probably&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;heaven, hell?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;as in a category? i hope not for me, but maybe for some criminal&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;if there\'s a hell are you going there?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;i dont think....&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;believe in ghosts?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;they don't believe in me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;life on other planets&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;ackpth&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;wicca?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;my aunt does, im still on the fence&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;magick in general&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;sure, if its nice.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;heart on your sleeve&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;ever been in love?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;yes&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;are you now?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;mmyep&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;would you die for that person?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;yes, without a doubt&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;do you have a super-heroe complex?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;i dont think so.... what is it?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;are you getting over it?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;i dono&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;have you ever held your true feelings inside you?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;yes&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;sucks dont it?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;no doubt&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;are you talking to yourself zen?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;maybe...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;finish the following...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;if love is for suckers...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;bring on the blow pops! *not meaning I'll blow guys*&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;if there is a hell...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;it'll freeze over if go there&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;if you lose everything...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;you can gain it back&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;if no one's there...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;then they aren't there??&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;more questions&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;how many people in your life have you hated&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;and loved?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;and lied to...tough question?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;my teachers, sometimes parents :-P&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;say what you think when you read these words&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;buddha&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;rub da tummy!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;zen&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;??&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;love&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Dylan&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;religion&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;ha&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;life&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;live it&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;good&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;not me&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;tear&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;waterfall&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;botchla?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;wha?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;flame&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;eeeeeeeeeeee! I loooooooooove you!!!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;fall&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;get back up&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;blood&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;spills over broken hearts&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;angel&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;devil&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;outcast&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;the one they cant really categorize&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;scars&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;are deeper than one might think&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;awaken&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;from this good dream&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;scream&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;to keep my sanity&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;paul&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;??&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;mosh&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;eee! got me into trouble at a school dance&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;hurt&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;when i cut into the past&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;rainbow&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;the rainbow flags?? flags runs, nooooooo!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;thurpl3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;??&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;punk&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;blast from the past&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;america&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;where i live&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;fascism&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;ack&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;rick&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;??&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;music&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;love love love&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;hitler&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;ackpth!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;silver&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;a color&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;" colspan="2"&gt;this is the end&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;what will be your last words&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;:-P Love you&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;quote the bible&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;Thou shalt not kill&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:Verdana;background-color:#3886D3;padding:5px;font-size:12px;color:#fff;text-align:right;"&gt;quoth the raven&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#8AB8E6;color:#000;font-size:12px;padding:5px;text-align:left;"&gt;As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;p style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;color:#fff;background-color:#1F5892;text-align:center;padding:15px;padding-bottom:10px;margin:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/create.php" style="color:#fff;" title="Create a Survey"&gt;Create a Survey&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/search.php" style="color:#fff;" title="Search Surveys"&gt;Search Surveys&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com" style="color:#fff;" title="bzoink!"&gt;Go to bzoink!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109839972436832956?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109839972436832956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109839972436832956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109839972436832956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109839972436832956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/10/survey.html' title='Survey'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109650768140503188</id><published>2004-09-29T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T18:28:01.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for A Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I felt like I wanted to change something, so I did. There was an avril lavigne song on here, which made me reluctant at first, but hey! You can delete things off these. Smart me, knowing soooo much about HTML code. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Well today was... erm boring. I have some work to do though. Of course I have to waste time some more though, all the more fun trying to finish shit @ 2 in the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Some of my friends dressed up as the colors of the rainbow today, it was really kind of weird. Hey, w/e floats their boats. I'm torn @ the moment on which concert I want to attend, Green Day or Taking Back Sunday. Honestly, the only thing stopping me from Green Day is the cost... last concert was a shitload of moolah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;My attention span sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109650768140503188?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109650768140503188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109650768140503188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109650768140503188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109650768140503188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/09/time-for-change.html' title='Time for A Change'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109470724744786475</id><published>2004-09-08T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T22:20:47.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Poor guy.... He's all being angsty @ the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I try so hardBut all I do is cryI dont understandWhy do I even try?I love you so muchYet it hurts even moreWHY WONT YOU JUST TELL ME!?!?Instead of acting stubborn like you do...Are you trying to say fuck you ****?Go the hell away?Or is it just some messageI'll never understand todayThis makes me want to cryAnd as much as I force myself not tooI still feel the tears fallingHitting the ground beneath meSoaking my feet in silent sorrowI love you so muchAnd no matter what happens I refuse to give that upBut this bothers me so muchOver something so simpleI asked you a questionYou didnt want to answerI made a commentYou barely respondedI told you I loved youAnd you said 'yea'How the FUCK is that supposed to be reassuring?Am I just not seeing some new language where yea means I love you?Do you love me too?Or are you just so mad at me you dont know?Or maybe you just dont want to tell me?Or is this some game to test my love?Well fuck!Stop testing it!Its there!Sometimes I think more than yours...All these tests...Constantly asking...And then telling me you want to be single!?How am I supposed to be reassured!?I want to get past this...But you never even called...I asked you too...And you didnt...If there was something this bad happening to you I'd call before I could remember your numberBut instead I sit and waitWith this phone in my lapWondering if its ringWill bring me backI hate being where I amYet it seems to be my second homePlease save me with your loveI need you to save me *******...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very very looooooooong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a soccer game Saturday.... weeeeee. In Alpine @ 7am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109470724744786475?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109470724744786475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109470724744786475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109470724744786475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109470724744786475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/09/poor-guy.html' title=''/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109432657668190504</id><published>2004-09-04T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-04T12:37:23.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepy</title><content type='html'>I spent the night @ school for the band/cg sleepover. It was pretty fun, Dylan played video games and dodgeball most of the time and I played the electric guitar and slept. If you call getting pegged while inside a sleeping bag sleeping of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently no one could see the BRIGHT &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;BLUE&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;sleeping bag that was right there on the gym floor near all the other sleeping bags. It was pretty funny cause the only time Dylan wanted to sleep was when it was time to clean up and get ready to go. He hopped on the flag box in the CG room and started sleeping on it. Then him and Nick started saying that Stephanie had a penis, which is something they could've kept to themselves ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired, I want to go to the mall, but I'm tired. I have to babysit tomorrow. On Monday I have reserved the TV for my MARATHON of the tribe... Yes, I ditched Degrassi Canadians for Tribe New Zealanders. Ram is sexier than Marco, and he's not gay. They should have a gay character in The Tribe though..... hmmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YEAH, there was a brush fire today, Billy said it was the Cuyamaca Mt.s or something behind his studio (not right behind, but you could see all the smoke.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109432657668190504?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109432657668190504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109432657668190504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109432657668190504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109432657668190504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/09/sleepy.html' title='Sleepy'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109417437283498144</id><published>2004-09-02T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T18:19:32.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CG</title><content type='html'>Color guard double time. We had practice during class out @ the football field, and after school we had practice till 5 o'clock. Too many people decided to fuck up and drop the flags, so we had to do flag runs.&lt;br /&gt;Now let me explain what flag runs are. They are not our normal 7 ft. flags, ooooooo no. They are HUGE &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;W &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;S &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;So yeah. I got bored after practice, so I checked out the links people put in their info and I found David's g/f's journal. Very colorful. Then I found David's, and got amused by the Courtney Love comment. Now I am writing this horrid journal. I have to babysit on Sunday. People in my 5th period class suck, I'm quite glad that I didn't go today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109417437283498144?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109417437283498144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109417437283498144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109417437283498144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109417437283498144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/09/cg.html' title='CG'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109339277989263098</id><published>2004-08-24T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-24T17:12:59.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rappers Fucking Suck</title><content type='html'>I hate speeches. More to the point, I hate stupid people who do speeches on rappers. That's right, anyone in my 5th period Geography 1C class that did their speech on some rapper is a fucking moron. Seriously, why not choose someone smart? Maybe someone who doesn't get shot or sell drugs? Maybe not someone who runs away at the age of 13? It's not that hard. Rappers are a very small group, and the alternatives are usually much better (usually meaning a banana peel would be a better choice for successful). And all the awful songs... it was hell, pure hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in case no one believes how bad a choice rappers are, I actually took notes (extra credit) on the facts the people used in their speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too Short-&lt;br /&gt;got in a car crash and killed the other driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J-Kwon&lt;br /&gt;ran away @ 13&lt;br /&gt;2 kids @ 17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 Cent....&lt;br /&gt;sold drugs&lt;br /&gt;got shot 9 times&lt;br /&gt;makes fun of Ja Rule&lt;br /&gt;name is Curtis..... CURTIS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rest my case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109339277989263098?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109339277989263098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109339277989263098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109339277989263098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109339277989263098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/rappers-fucking-suck.html' title='Rappers Fucking Suck'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109312368412821329</id><published>2004-08-21T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-21T14:28:04.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitchy</title><content type='html'>I had sorta a nervous breakdown last night @ midnight. I couldn't sleep, and I knew I had band camp Saturday. So I flipped, there's been a lot of work I have to do lately, and it's only the 2nd week of school... I have 2 tests this week, a speech, TW (timed writing), and soccer and color guard practice. The lack of rest gets me in trouble with my CG instructor, but I don't know how my new soccer coach will handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a funnier note, my mom said I can't wear normal bras to soccer or colorguard anymore, I have to wear creepy sports bras w/ the hooks poking me in the back. Why, you may ask? Because aparently my breasts are too big to be held in normal bras while participating in physical activity (not sex... morons). So... yeaaaaaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of writing a story, I don't know what it's about. I think the character will be a girl. And there will be her dreams, which is what I'm gonna start out w/.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109312368412821329?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109312368412821329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109312368412821329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109312368412821329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109312368412821329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/twitchy.html' title='Twitchy'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109280638381281262</id><published>2004-08-17T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T22:19:43.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swamped</title><content type='html'>EEEEEEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things to do.... I have to finish the score for B&amp;B, then find an article in a mag.  Of course, being me I decide to write in my journal....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of stuff has been happening, but it's all sort of blurred together. Except for the Incubus concert on Sunday. I think i inhaled pot smoke on accident, OH and there was this one awfully bitchy chick. She bitched about people getting in front of her, and she BIT a guy that I had made friends with. She got hers though, booooy did she get it. SOCKED IN THE MOUTH, that's what you get for running it and biting people, stupid woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok gotta go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109280638381281262?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109280638381281262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109280638381281262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109280638381281262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109280638381281262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/swamped.html' title='Swamped'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109173542487648815</id><published>2004-08-05T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T12:50:24.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday</title><content type='html'>I'm doing the smart thing and calling to invite people the day before the party. At the moment I'm calling to see how Dylan is doing. He's been sick for some time now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love decorating my folder with attractive guys. And random stuff from comic-con.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ain't no thang but a chicken wing." Wow, my boyfriend is a goddamn philosopher. Weeeee!&lt;br /&gt;Nyeh, I can't think of anything  to write. Maybe I'll have something later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109173542487648815?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109173542487648815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109173542487648815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109173542487648815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109173542487648815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/thursday.html' title='Thursday'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109159499393034954</id><published>2004-08-03T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T21:49:53.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changed</title><content type='html'>Once again I changed the look, cause my attempts at html are horrible. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;So there's a party @ Dylan's. I can't wait, hopefully everyone will come. And I'm also looking into piercings. Don't ask, I'm weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I emailed an old friend. I told her that I was worried about an old best friend resurfacing and bringing me back to the times when I was really bad. I guess it wasn't bad to some standards, but she's gotten worse since we've been apart. Drugs, the whole thing. It would be just another notch to add to responsibilities I don't even pay attention to. So I guess this isn't just titled 'changed' for the look. I'm expecting a lot of change to happen with the new school year starting, and hopefully it will be for the better. I need to start reading &lt;em&gt;To Kill A Mockingbird :-P&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109159499393034954?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109159499393034954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109159499393034954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109159499393034954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109159499393034954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/changed.html' title='Changed'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109147995398797567</id><published>2004-08-02T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T13:52:33.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Song</title><content type='html'>I made up lyrics to a song, like anyone would read it or like it anyway, but just in case... ITS MINE!! YOU STEAL IT I KILL YOU! Well now that that's done, Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Verse 1-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Smile to the person who teaches you nothing,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spit on the person who makes you think,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Laugh at the kids who are true to themselves, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And worship the zombies who follow the trends&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Chorus-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When the pottery of popularity shatters into pieces,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;what will happen to you? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And when the television breaks,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;what will you think is reality or scripted? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's only a matter of time for a lobotomy to be the new fashion.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Verse 2-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hate the mainstream music because they steal your money,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Go to the dances and try not to fit in,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;criticize the people who really care about you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And never forget that you're what you want to be: alone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Bridge-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Set fire to the bridges now,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we don't want an abomination,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;no more opinions,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;no more protesting,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;it's just another thorn in the public's side.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yeah. I think it needs work. It's all an observation to how people like to act in different social groups. All of them have flaws, and they're really easy to point out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109147995398797567?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109147995398797567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109147995398797567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109147995398797567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109147995398797567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/song.html' title='Song'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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-7830535.post-109142273997913708</id><published>2004-08-01T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-01T21:58:59.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wahoo</title><content type='html'>Well, I made another journal. Still don't know why I do in the first place. Maybe cause Xanga becomes frustrating when you're trying to find an awesome skin. It always looks incredibly stupid when you use it on there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7830535-109142273997913708?l=bleed2movemi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/feeds/109142273997913708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7830535&amp;postID=109142273997913708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109142273997913708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7830535/posts/default/109142273997913708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bleed2movemi.blogspot.com/2004/08/wahoo.html' title='Wahoo'/><author><name>Marie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06782455704739371222</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>
