<?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-19070978</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:06:12.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WhaTeVEr</title><subtitle type='html'>Sorting out feelings doesn't always have to mean taking the paper to the ink, or talking with someone.  Sometimes it just means getting them out there, and this is what here is for.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5051439414890486282</id><published>2011-08-19T03:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T03:46:35.527-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ankle</title><content type='html'>Insomnia sucks... having the dread of 4am and not even having the thought of sleeping cross your mind being brought on by yourself sucks even more.  &lt;div&gt;I recently sprained my ankle.  A really bad sprain as well, because I haven't been to work all week.  In reading a friend's blog, it made me realize that this summer has gone by and I haven't even thought of this blog.  This blog that was once my only safe-haven.  This blog that used to help me cope through the evils in my mind and celebrate the euphoric if sometimes manic days of my life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you haven't already guessed this, I seem to mostly write here now when I'm depressed or upset.  These last couple weeks I've felt myself going downhill.  I don't know if it's because the summer is coming to an end, or if I miss Norm, but I just haven't been feeling like myself.  To top everything off, this past week I haven't been able to work because of my sprained ankle so I've been ruminating over my life and what I'm doing with it.  I feel like I'm in a rut.  Go to work, work, go home, cook dinner, shower, go to bed, repeat.  I thought that this summer I would be doing more, but that's all been a bust.  That and I was only able to see my mother once this summer, and my boyfriend twice.  Everything is too expensive for me to be able to do anything other than work and work and, oh, did I mention WORK.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've also been thinking about my relationship a lot these past few weeks.  Not that I want to end it, because I Love Norm a LOT, but I just don't feel like he is able to reciprocate sometimes what I feel.  I mean, I send a text that says "I Love You!" and what do I get back? "ILY" or simply "&amp;lt;3".  It's not like his texting charges him by the character.  I would like something along the same lines.  I just almost feel like he's blowing me off sometimes, and if he really does care about me as much as he says he does, then why doesn't it always show.  I'm not asking for him to gush, but simply wondering why he doesn't at least just say "I Love You Too!" or something... Why does it always have to be just the shortest, least amount possible from him sometimes?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's not just with the texts, either.  When he's been online at all in the past couple weeks, we've talked for maybe 10 minutes, and then he's had something else to do.  I'm not asking for a lot of time, at least I didn't think I was, it's just... if he's online, that should mean that he's available, or he wouldn't/shouldn't sign on.  If I even just don't want to talk to people, I go offline on FBChat, that way I can do what I want around the house, with friends, whatever the situation may call for, and not be interrupted or cutting a conversation short by 1 out of 500 D&amp;amp;D Games, or a Magic game, or whatever else it is.  I'm not saying that I want him to give me all of his time, and I'm NOT saying that I don't want him to spend time with his friends and have fun, I'm just saying that I want a little time for him to set aside to talk to me without doing something else, or having to rush off 5 minutes into the conversation to go do something.  Whatever... I guess I'm just being moody and clingy... as usual... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it for now... I'm starting to get... eh... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5051439414890486282?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5051439414890486282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5051439414890486282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5051439414890486282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5051439414890486282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2011/08/ankle.html' title='Ankle'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2123159552870393946</id><published>2011-05-07T02:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T03:10:43.198-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Call</title><content type='html'>"I was born to tell you "I Love You", and I am torn to do what I have to; to make you mine, stay with me tonight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So are some of the beginning lyrics of my new favorite song "Your Call" by Secondhand Serenade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It calms me, steadies my thoughts, makes me stop thinking about Jay all day, all night,  every minute that I'm dreaming, every moment that I let my mind wander even if just for a moment.  It stops me from thinking about him and lets me/makes me think about something else; anything else besides Jay.  I know that I have to get over him, but it's just So hard when everything that I do makes my mind wander to him.  I'm worse than a toddler in a candy store or toy store... I know that it hurts Norm when I talk about missing Jay, but I really do think that I love him, at least I'm committed to him.  That's what he has right now, my commitment, and that's all I think I can really give him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to realize how clingy he really is, because tonight I'm not really in the mood for it, and I haven't been in the mood for the past 2 days; but he's still adamant about wanting to hold my hand all the time and wanting to be all kissy in public.  I was okay with us doing that for the first couple weeks of our relationship so that people could come up to us and ask if we were seeing each other, but now I'm over that phase in the relationship, and I don't know if he's going to get out of it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might just be because that's what I did with Jay, but I liked how it was.  I need my own space, and it's not like he HAS to be close, it's not like I'm just not going to be there at night in his bed, cuddling with him.  Idk... maybe it's just in my head, because I know that I push the intimacy thing sometimes during the day, but sometimes it seems like he just pushes it a little more than I do... I think that tonight is the perfect test of how he can learn to not be clingy when I don't want to be.  I mean, I just don't want to be clingy tonight because not only is Jay here, but Danni is here as well.  On their own, separate, I can handle them... it's when they're together that it's really hard for me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight makes me want to drive; fast and reckless.  It makes me want to go somewhere fast, and maybe not get back.  Not technically saying that I want to die, but a coma sounds pretty good right now.  No job prospects, so I don't know where I'm living this summer, and I'm hopelessly in love with a guy who won't have a job during the summer and he's okay with that, and that bothers me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idk... tonight is just hard for me... possibly has to to a little with the fact that I forgot my meds today as well... but the less I see Jay; the better... hopefully he leaves soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2123159552870393946?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2123159552870393946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2123159552870393946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2123159552870393946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2123159552870393946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2011/05/your-call.html' title='Your Call'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-202388975164935858</id><published>2011-03-16T19:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T19:48:36.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>today...</title><content type='html'>Shaking, Trembling, really...  Rise against in the background, Foreground, All Ground.  Don't really know what to think of everything today.  Realized that my mother is the only person keeping me alive right now, and even then, the urge today is almost too strong... already cut twice today... okay, I really just dug my ring into my thigh till it broke skin, but when I don't have anything else to "cut" with, it'll have to do... Been shaking since Abnormal Psych... Think it had to do with the topic today... Mood disorders.  So first I was thinking of Daddy and his depression, and me and mine, and then again with the thinking of people with Gram and BiPolar... (oh ya, Gram died last month).  But ya... It just really was a HUGE trigger today, and I'm wishing that I had skipped class, but I don't think that I could have brought myself to do that.  I just... I care so much about my Psych classes that I don't think that I could ever really skip them unless I was really feeling sick, and even then, I'm pretty sure I would just medicate and continue on.  My head has been pounding for the last 2 days, so I think I've expected this to be coming on, but I didn't think that it would be to this extreme.  I mean, Mum really is the ONLY person/thing keeping me from killing myself with a good, well-done overdose.  Today I was thinking of what I would put in my note, and I've been shaking on and off for about 2 weeks... my wrist itches to be spliced open, but my body knows that it won't happen there... my leg, and possibly torso this time... they will feel the sweet, sweet release of my pin tonight.  I can't hold it back any more... I was writing "cut cut cut" in the margins of my notes the other day in Social Psych... I've been fixating on it for a while, I just really need to either get high, or cut... either way I'll go flying tonight, which is what I really need.  I need a good fly in the almost-spring night to clear my head.  As Rise Against goes deeper and deeper into my cerebellum, I just keep thinking about the sweet release that only a pin and clear skin can give me... Oh! to see the crimson rubies drip down my leg and pool on the floor before I clean it up.  Oh! to feel the release that only that can give me.  No drug can really get me as high as that, and no amount of sex or bodily pleasure could ever even come close to getting me to feel as wonderful as having my skin opened again and again by a small, discreet friend who knows just how deep I need to go, and can get me there Every time without fail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-202388975164935858?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/202388975164935858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=202388975164935858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/202388975164935858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/202388975164935858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2011/03/today.html' title='today...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2114557481459043985</id><published>2011-01-05T18:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T18:46:34.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stronger!</title><content type='html'>Things crumbled a little after my last post, but now I feel like they're stronger than ever, and can only get better, and go up from here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so... what happened was Jay got scared because I told him that I was falling in Love with him and he broke up with me because he didn't think that he was/could be feeling the same way for me.  He broke me that day, and when I was crumbling and crying he held me and then started to cry as well when he was saying goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have to work the couple days after that, and I didn't really leave my room/bed that much... I just kept thinking about Jay and where I went wrong/if i went wrong somewhere.  I was really glad when my friend Aaron got me out of the dorm and into the Comp Club, and he was good enough to bring me in when Jay wasn't in there. Jay and I talked each night, and after 2 days of him thinking, he decided that he wanted me back.  Because of how I feel about Jay, and about how much I had been thinking about everything, and how I have always been known to give second chances I told him to pick me up outside my dorm in 15 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was there, and I asked him after we had talked some stuff out if I had a Jay back, and he said Yes!  So now Jay and I are back together, and I think that we're doing even better than ever!  I now know what I need to say when I want something, and Jay knows what to say if he needs something from me as well.  This is just such a better go at our relationship now, and I'm SOOOO HAPPY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just REALLY had to get that out.  And now there's more Happiness to follow!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2114557481459043985?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2114557481459043985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2114557481459043985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2114557481459043985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2114557481459043985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2011/01/stronger.html' title='Stronger!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4813534985546032471</id><published>2010-12-14T18:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T18:42:39.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sooo...</title><content type='html'>Ya... Falling... I think I've done it.  I think I've fallen in love with Jay... or at least am falling.  I'm just terrified that he won't feel the same way.  The poem was basically everything that I've been feeling the past few days.  I really would like to  just have some solidarity or some knowledge about how he feels.  I'm just not sure how to ask him about it without sounding like a child... which I'll admit, I still am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idk... I just don't want to go back to myself being "bad".  I just really need to keep staying good, and with Jay, it's really easy to stay good, but he understands that I'm going to slip up a little every once in a while, so he's "supportive"  silently.  He understands what I'm feeling without me even having to say anything, and I both love that, and am terrified by that.  I guess that's really all I have to say...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just more of the usual I guess...&lt;br /&gt;I'm just REALLY happy these days as well... and a LOT of that is from Jay... some of that is from being medicated these days as well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4813534985546032471?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4813534985546032471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4813534985546032471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4813534985546032471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4813534985546032471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/12/sooo.html' title='Sooo...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7032119651051018648</id><published>2010-12-14T18:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T18:37:22.042-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling?</title><content type='html'>I don't want to sound like every other worn-out cliche. &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to open myself up to you more if you aren't feeling the same way. &lt;br /&gt;I'm scared of getting hurt, and I feel like I've fallen for you more than you have for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared of telling you how I feel because I don't want to be told you don't feel the same way.&lt;br /&gt;If I told you I Love You, what would you say?&lt;br /&gt;If I told you I think I Love You, would you react differently?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can just "go with the flow" any more. &lt;br /&gt;I want a little something more.&lt;br /&gt;I want to know how deep you are into me.&lt;br /&gt;I want to know how much I mean to you. &lt;br /&gt;I want to know because I think I love you, but I'm too scared to say it out loud because I've been hurt so many times in the past.&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel SO Good, I don't want to think about how easily you could destroy me now in my fragile state. &lt;br /&gt;You have the upper hand in this relationship, because you are the solid one.&lt;br /&gt;You are the one who knows what they want out of life.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to sound like every worn-out cliche, but I don't want to open myself up to you more if you aren't feeling the same way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7032119651051018648?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7032119651051018648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7032119651051018648&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7032119651051018648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7032119651051018648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/12/falling.html' title='Falling?'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7811122184487032479</id><published>2010-12-02T20:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T20:54:19.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After The Panix</title><content type='html'>So... I slept Amazingly the night after my last post... the panic attack lasted for a good hour and a half.  Then I texted Jay and between his classes he came to the comp club and just held me.  It felt really good for him to just hold me and make me feel safe again.  I had gone to my room and laid down to try and get over everything, and it helped.  I also almost fell asleep a little bit, so I was really happy that I'm feeling better.  I still start to get shaky a little bit these past couple days, but then I just look at Jay, or give him a hug, and it stops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and I were talking last night, and I told him that I have daddy, commitment, and abandonment issues.  He didn't bat an eyelash.  I'm so glad that he is able to recognize that I've got some really horrible demons, and he also is over the stupid drama from like high-school, so he's JUST what I need right now.  I really like him as well, which always helps. He He He. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and I were also talking about how even though he scares me because he can read me so well, I was glad to hear that things scare him as well... like the fact that he always knows the Perfect thing to say, but it's always when he doesn't mean to say it.  Idk, I just had to say that I was doing better... In fact, I'm doing Great right now... I just need to not think about my Ex any more, because he is possibly my worst trigger that I've ever found...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7811122184487032479?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7811122184487032479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7811122184487032479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7811122184487032479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7811122184487032479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/12/after-panix.html' title='After The Panix'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-751393248509154703</id><published>2010-11-30T16:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T16:51:27.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Panix</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot about my past relationships, and I really can't help thinking about how I've messed up all of my past ones.  I'm terriffied that I'm going to really mess up the Great thing that I"ve got going with Jay.  I trust him, and he calms me more than anyone that i know ever could... but thinking about messing it up... i start to panic attack... it's NOT good.  my hands start to shake, my neck and jaw tenses, and my legs get sooo antsy, i don't know what to do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate panic attacks... but I really don't know what to do other than "power through them".  I can't put my life on stand-still every time I get one, because They sometimes last for hours... ... ... Breathe.... Just breathe... focus on the task at hand... try not to draw attention to myself... Breathe.... think about good things... don't get scared... change iPod to playlist for this...&lt;br /&gt;Hld Your Breathe, Make  a wish, count to three... kenny Loggins... relaxing... Mother Ocean... Jimmy Buffett... calming... Just put your head down and not freak out... just try and stay calm... try and relax.  try and focus on the task of typing this blog out.  Process things.  why am I freaking?  because once I start, it's soo hard to stop... what started it? THinking about messing it up with Jay.  Why would i mess it up?  Because i always seem to for one reason or another...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nope...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;put head down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;breathe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go sit in comfy chair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;try and stop shaking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-751393248509154703?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/751393248509154703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=751393248509154703&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/751393248509154703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/751393248509154703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/11/panix.html' title='Panix'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4086527230890926372</id><published>2010-11-27T19:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T19:16:27.182-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiots</title><content type='html'>Why do drivers think that just because they're in the car it makes them  big and tough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to cross the road AT The crosswalk outside my dorm, and I  can see this SUV and they're driving TOO Fast on the 25 Mph road.  I'm  in a black coat against WHITE Snow! You don't stop because you're too much of an asshole, and then when i flip you off because you could see me, you stop short and harass me!  There is NO need for that.  You say that you couldn't see me, well, I'm in a light jeans and black jacket combo.  Those 2 colors are the safest to be going around in, because if you can't see my light wash jeans against the dark pavement, then you'll be able to see my black coat against the SNOW that is on the ground that is Pure White. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that if you can see someone in the crosswalk and choose to speed up so that you don't stop, (and I was waiting right where the crosswalk started, so if you hadn't stopped, you would have been paying MY Medical bills, and I would have sued you so you would have been paying ALL of my university bills from not will I get my PhD) you deserve to be flipped off.  I do it ALL the time, so don't think that you're special.  You also don't need to start screaming at me that you'll "break my fingers" and such.  If I had wanted to, I could have taken down your license number and called the cops because You threatened ME.  I didn't think you were worth it, though, so I didn't bother wasting my time.  I had something to do which is why I was outside in the cold to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This rant just Had to happen, because I'm sick of stupid people Not stopping at the crosswalk on campus when I'm going to cross the street.  Especially if it's young people.  If it's an older driver, I honestly don't mind letting them go, but if it's someone young/middle aged, they need to stop, and if they don't, I flip them off.  I sometimes mumble under my breath "d-bag" but that was honestly the FIRST time I've ever had someone stop their car and get out to yell at me about it.  Also; I'm sorry, but you don't get to pull the " I didn't see you" card.  I've been dealt that enough, so I'm not going to take it any more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't see me under the streetlight, in the road, with the aforementioned clothing on, you shouldn't be driving at night because you're blind as a bat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. You looked and sounded like a drunk redneck...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4086527230890926372?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4086527230890926372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4086527230890926372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4086527230890926372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4086527230890926372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/11/idiots.html' title='Idiots'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3894618473220642991</id><published>2010-11-22T00:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T01:03:58.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>S.O.S.</title><content type='html'>Wow... just had a major freak-out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that I was writing in my journal about how I don't like to be weak...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been writing in a journal instead of blogging because my ex was reading this, but I'm pretty sure he is done stalking me, so I'm writing on here to talk about other things that I don't write about in my journal, or about the same things, just after I've put my journal away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO... I guess the reason I'm writing now is because I just had a major freak out that started with me writing and ended with me having a slight panic attack with lots to cutting with my trusted safety pin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish that I was over that, but I guess I'm really not.  I've been writing a lot about how I like being miserable... and I'm not sure what it all really means, but I know that Jay makes me "happy"/not think about that as much, so I'm going to stay with him for now to see how things go.  I think that they'll turn out really good, I just need to get over my stupid shit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just Had to write it out... Not Traz and Bed...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3894618473220642991?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3894618473220642991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3894618473220642991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3894618473220642991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3894618473220642991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/11/sos.html' title='S.O.S.'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7135918273527649132</id><published>2010-10-19T16:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T17:10:10.429-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything...</title><content type='html'>updating has been crap since school started... but now that I'm around computers all the time, i may start to update more recently, but who the hell knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a HUGE flirt...  That's about the existence of my life right now.  Having fun with friends, writing in my journal more, and classes... that's about it.  Halloween is coming up soon, and I'm excited about that... but I think that what I need to rant about today is people's dependency upon others and upon having to be in a relationship to be "validated".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that the idea of a relationship is completely over romanticized these days.  Not to say that I do not fall into that group of the mindless drones who constantly want to be in a relationship, but I really an honestly happy being single and being able to hang out with anyone that I want to, and being able to flirt with EVERYONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my friends know exactly how much of a flirt that I am, and everyone seems to love it.  I guess I really started shamelessly flirting with everyone this summer.  I had a great time this summer getting to know people at OOB, and I really decided that i was just going to be open and get to know as many people as I could, and I'm SOO glad that I did.  This attitude followed me to school very easily, and I really like it.  The only difference between school and summer is that this summer I met a lot of people that I never have to see again if I don't want to with my shameless flirting; at school I don't have that privilege to be able to act how I want to and not face consequences.  I see these people every day, and I hang out with all of these people on a daily basis, so my flirting has to be a little more controlled or else I'm VERY likely to get myself in trouble, or beaten by a girlfriend that I wasn't told about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm really glad that I have a lot of friends who creep for me and who can tell me the information on people that I'm friends with.  That way I don't get in trouble.  I really am glad that I just can put myself into the Comp Club and have been accepted by everyone so easily.  It feels great to have a place that I can go no matter what and people are alwys there, and are always accepting.  They let me do what I want, and most of the time they don't judge (unless it's about me liking/being on Gaiaonline, or FarmVille... LOL)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's all for now... People are waiting for a comp and I'm not really gaming... Till Later!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Angel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7135918273527649132?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7135918273527649132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7135918273527649132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7135918273527649132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7135918273527649132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/10/everything.html' title='Everything...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2786470441937133246</id><published>2010-03-31T18:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:53:34.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Did I do the Right thing?</title><content type='html'>I don't know.  I feel like I did because of all of the good things that we were, but then I have to remind myself about all of the bad things that happened that I don't/can't deal with again. &lt;br /&gt;I just miss the relationship, and being able to talk to him about anything, but I don't miss the fact that I had to keep reminding him a thousand times not to call me a million and one times, and to let me sleep if I have to work the next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that it was for the best.  Everyone tells me it is.  All of our friends on both sides are happy that it's over.  People even fucking "liked" his changed relationship status on Facebook till he told them not to.  I'm just feeling a little upset mostly because I miss him. &lt;br /&gt;I feel like all I see around me is couples, and wishing that I was in a relationship again, but I know that I just need to be single for a little bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also starting to REALLY miss Daddy again.  He just pops into my head randomly about 1000 times a day.  Which is about 100x more than usual.  I really feel like this is not helping my depression and my migraines.  It seems whenever I start thinking about him, I either want to cut again, or I just start feeling like I'm not myself any more and I'm back to where I was Junior Year in High School.  It scares me a little, but I really don't like to talk to other people about my fucking Daddy Issues.  That's what everyone calls them.  "Daddy Issues"  "Abandonment Issues" and that causes major Depression Trigger.  I guess it's normal, but I just hate feeling helpless like this.  I think I'm going to go talk to Daddy tomorrow in Portland.  If I leave early in the morning, i think I'll be able to get to the cemetery in time to really have a good day with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep telling myself "Do Not Cry At Work"  but I can't help it.  I just need to keep strong and not let the tears well out of my eyes.  I'm going to go call my Mum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2786470441937133246?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2786470441937133246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2786470441937133246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2786470441937133246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2786470441937133246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/03/did-i-do-right-thing.html' title='Did I do the Right thing?'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5774938507501685801</id><published>2010-02-26T12:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T12:51:01.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF!!!</title><content type='html'>If I say that I have a lot of homework to do, LEAVE ME ALONE To do it!  Do NOT call me multiple times if I hang up, or text/im me again and again to pick up my phone, because I'm on a roll, and I don't want to interrupt that, so leave me the hell alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of homework to do, which may be something foreign to you, because you never seem to have homework to do unless it is something that you have for Psych that you've just forgotten about or something till now, and you're still talking to me while trying to do something you don't remember the answers to because you didn't pay attention in class, and your notes are too long/you don't take any, and that's why you can't read them/look over them again because it's "too much". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I on the other hand have HOURS and HOURS of homework to do.  I have 2 English classes that are heavy workloads in themselves, and on top of that, i have my Education class that requires a lot of hours of work.  The work isn't hard, it's just VERY Time consuming.  ALL of my classes are Time Consuming, except for MY Psych class which is HARDER/MORE ADVANCED than yours, so I don't understand why the hell you're fucking saying "oh, this is so hard, I don't understand any of it, It's too much" and Mine is actually pretty easy!  Whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say that you'll leave me alone, and I am thankful for that, but then to call me and tell me that I need to respect you more, when you said that you would leave me alone is total shit!  I AM BUSY now, and I honestly don't want to talk to you, or anyone else for that matter, till I am DONE with my homework, but if you keep calling me and aggravating me like this, because you CONSTANTLY are calling me again and again and I can't do it.  I can't talk to you because I AM RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IMPORTANT WORK!! You just don't seem to understand how fucking important ANYTHING Is besides running and YOUR classes, and even then, you don't really seem to get that because you aren't paying attention in half of your classes!!! I don't care if you "know it all" all ready, or if the professor is "repeating themselves"  YOU NEED TO PAY ATTENTION IN ALL OF YOUR FUCKING CLASSES!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say that i need to study, it's honestly saying "I have to work, leave me the fuck alone till I CONTACT YOU again!  DO NOT Contact me while I'm studying because you're more likely than not fucking up my studying, and throwing me off of my train of thought completely because you've PISSED me off SOOO Much Because YOU Fucking don't get that I NEED TO KEEP WORKING TILL I AM DONE WITHOUT DISTRACTIONS, OR ELSE I DO NOT GET ANY FUCKING WORK DONE!!!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Sorry, but my phone is staying off for the rest of the day, and you have ROYALLY pissed me off, because you're NOT Letting me study, which is stressing me out, which is pissing me off at YOU because right now YOU are the one who is causing a hindrance to my studying, to my passing my classes, and to my GRADUATION!!!!! So if you want me to drop out and just spend all my time talking to you, please, just tell me now and I will, because it seems like that's what you want because God Forbid I'm Online WAITING FOR YOU to get online, because I KNOW that you'll want to talk to me, and I Don't Fucking Text You AS SOON As I get online!!!  Do you know how that feels?? It's almost like you are ALWAYS &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NEEDING NEEDING NEEDING&lt;/span&gt; to talk to me!  I Don't ALWAYS Need to be talking to you!  in fact, most of the time, I Do NOT want to be talking to you when I say that I HAVE WORK TO DO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this all comes down to you always wanting to talk to me, and interrupting my studying, and which pisses me off, and sends me/you/us on this downward spiral.  I WILL &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT NOT NOT NOT&lt;/span&gt; Have you do this any more!! I have HOURS of work to do, and if you don't fucking leave me the hell alone during the time when I say that I'm working, then we WILL go through WEEKS when we do not talk.  This is the first weekend of MANY that I won't talk to you, if you keep wanting to do this and not let me study.  Either leave me alone till I Text/Call/IM you, or We will NOT be talking.  That's how it HAS to be right now because Unlike You, I Have TONS of homework to do, and if you're like this now, I can ONLY IMAGINE how things will be when my homework gets even HARDER, and even MORE Time Consuming! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You More than ANYTHING!! But when you piss me off, that's just about the LAST thing that I want to be telling you because you should KNOW THAT!!! But it just seems like if you are ALWAYS asking to hear it, you NEED to hear it to be confident in yourself, and in our relationship.  I'm not going to do that, so either grow up and realize that People Do Not Tell Each Other That They Love Each Other 5,000 Times A Day, or I'll just make you a recording of me gushing for you, so you can play that over and over to yourself so that MAYBE it will FINALLY stick that I LOVE YOU AND ONLY YOU!!! No other fucking GUY is EVER going to change that, and i don't even LOOK at other fucking guys!! So STOP with that RIGHT NOW!!!  Just Leave that alone, because I don't know HOW MANY times I've told you (EVEN AFTER MY Oops) that I DON'T LOOK AT OTHER GUYS!! and you STILL fucking think it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thank you for upsetting me,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for distracting me beyond getting right back to work,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for Pissing me Off beyond wanting to yell,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for calling me again and again, and texting me about "no I Love You?"&lt;br /&gt;and finally, Thank you for NOT listening to me about the fact that I have WORK To do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5774938507501685801?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5774938507501685801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5774938507501685801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5774938507501685801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5774938507501685801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/02/wtf.html' title='WTF!!!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3200133944236660355</id><published>2010-01-29T15:31:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T16:07:52.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG COLLEGE!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Oh My God!! I haven't been on here in FOREVER, and I'm in COLLEGE now!! This is my second semester that I've been here at UMF, and I'm really excited.  So, Ethan and I broke up for a little bit because the stress of being at school was too intense for me, and so we're back together now, and it's even better than ever.  We're talking a LOT more than we weren't, and we are a lot better in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... What's been happening with me.  Mum moved to Mass to be with Crazy Gram, and Jeremiah has been living in New Jersey for almost about a year now... and now I'm living with Grammie Cheryl in Bethel, and going to school at UMF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last semester was really hard for me because mum sold the house right before I left for school, and so it was really hard for me to get past the fact that mum is over 7 hours away from me.  Also the fact that Ethan and I were apart a lot, and were trying to still talk and stuff like we did in High-School was really hard for both of us, Especially for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I went to my mum's for the week before Christmas, and then came back to Maine to work the day after Christmas at The Loaf.   Then I worked every day for a few weeks, and then I did that till the beginning of the semester.  Now that the second semester has started I'm starting my Education classes to start on my journey to become a teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that that's enough for this post.  I'll be posting more this week, and in the coming works, because I'm working with this all the time now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ttyl World!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3200133944236660355?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3200133944236660355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3200133944236660355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3200133944236660355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3200133944236660355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2010/01/omg-college.html' title='OMG COLLEGE!!!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-9000520435897890488</id><published>2009-06-16T20:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:23:31.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Sjg3EDZBcvI/AAAAAAAAABs/9Ebr46Rb3bk/s1600-h/2650_1042696227177_1218720065_30102244_3604967_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Sjg3EDZBcvI/AAAAAAAAABs/9Ebr46Rb3bk/s320/2650_1042696227177_1218720065_30102244_3604967_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348085100271727346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wow.  it's been such a long time since I've been able to write on this.  I really have been having such a Great Time! Ethan and I have been together for 7 months on Friday, and we're doing Great!!!  I'm Soooooo Glad that I didn't go through and kill myself when The Bastard (aka Jeff) broke up with me. I'll admit, I was in a Very Dark place when Ethan found me, and swept me up, and saved me from Everything Bad!  It was Sooo Great that He's Sooo Amazing!  I Can't believe how amazing he is.  He is Soooo Thoughtful, caring, sweet, generous, and SOOOOOOO PERFECT!!!  I Love Him Sooo Much!!!  The pic above is of him when he was little.  He Was Soooooo Cute, and Is EVEN CUTER Now!!!! I just can't believe how happy i am now, and how great he is for me.  He knows what I need, and I know what He needs almost automatically.  It's Sooo PERFECT!! We're Perfect!!! I Love Him Soooooo Much!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-9000520435897890488?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/9000520435897890488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=9000520435897890488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/9000520435897890488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/9000520435897890488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-my.html' title='Oh My!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Sjg3EDZBcvI/AAAAAAAAABs/9Ebr46Rb3bk/s72-c/2650_1042696227177_1218720065_30102244_3604967_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-323205035050513983</id><published>2009-02-05T19:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T20:16:48.319-05:00</updated><title type='text'>updating...</title><content type='html'>my back is killing me, but I'm doing better than I was with the whole "Jeff thing"...  I haven't seen him on my radar at all since we had an epic falling out a few weeks ago.  that's the last that I'm ever going to really say his name.  I'm referring to him as "Evil One" these days...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Ethan is amazing.  I Love Him.  I really, truly do.  I've never been sooo happy with anyone before him.  He treats me good, looks after me, and his parents are nice too.  I pick him up every morning before school, and we talk before school starts.  We talk about just about everything.  Everything about him makes me smile, and I want to be with him all the time.  At night, we talk till either he has to go to bed, or I have to take a shower.  We have a lot in common, even though we don't hang with the same friends all the time.  We do a lot together, and it's so nice having him love me for me.  It's amazing to not have to worry about what I do, because I know that he won't get upset as long as I tell him the truth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I do tell him to the truth all the time now.  I haven't even thought about lying to him since we had our little "fight/breakup" about a week ago.  It destroyed me that I lied to him.  It makes me soooo upset that i made him upset with my lying, but I've changed, I really have.  Because I Love Ethan, and I want to be with him for as long as he'll have me.  (Which I REALLY hope is close to Forever.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I really have been bad at keeping writing.  I have just tried to stay busy, but it's really hard to stay busy, sane, rested, and nice.  All while keeping up with writing.  I'm just sooo tired, and everyone really seems to be bothering me when I'm like this.  Especially Matt.  He's just... ugh, I don't really know how to act around him.  I don't love him any more... but he's just bothering me still... I just really don't know what to do with myself these days, other than stay away from Matt, because it's just too weird.  Idk what I'm going to do, but I know that things are going to get better because he is talking to me again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I guess that that's it.  I have an AMAZING boyfriend, whom I Love; I have been really busy, tired, and such; and I have Matt back as a friend, but it's just awkward.  Ana and Mia have been helping me get through this more too.  Ana in the day; and Mia in the afternoons and evenings.  Being with Ethan also helps.  Being with him helps me distract myself.  Being with him makes me believe that I will be perfect, sooner or later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-323205035050513983?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/323205035050513983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=323205035050513983&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/323205035050513983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/323205035050513983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/updating.html' title='updating...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1545033555765187074</id><published>2009-01-05T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:53:01.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck this life</title><content type='html'>I feel like I’m going crazy, and I can’t do anything about it.  I keep hearing this voice in my head, and the only thing that I can do to ignore it/make it quiet down is to blare the music in my head, behind the screams, into my head even more with my iPod.  I feel like I’m losing all touch with reality.  I am just faking the happy niceness that everyone expects from me, but I really just feel sick to my stomach about everything.  Everything that is, except Ethan.  He makes me feel a little better.  He makes me feel even happy sometimes.  School isn’t the place for me right now.  1 because of the teachers, and class. 2 because of the people.  Ok. Maybe just 1 person in particular.  Jeff, it’s always Jeff.  He isn’t even in my life any more, and he’s still driving me insane.  He can still run my life.  He can still make me feel like I’m going to be sick.  He still bothers me so much.  Peter says it’s because I’m letting him get to me.  Peter says that the screaming that I’m hearing is my subconscious, and I’m letting it “become” my Daddy.  I don’t believe him.  It is Daddy, I can feel it.  The things that he tortures me with, the words that pierce into my thoughts, the insults that will hurt more than any cut ever could, they drive me insane.  I try and just ignore him, but every time I do, he gets louder.  I turn up the music as I slowly slip more and more into insanity.  I won’t have my laptop for much longer because the battery is running low.  It can just about make it through 2 classes.  It is the same with me.  I can make it through 2 classes before I start feeling so crazy that I’m about to burst.  I have to get out of this prison that the government says that I have to go to till June.  I’m stuck here.  I can’t go anywhere without asking permission.  I can’t do anything outside, because I don’t have my car, and don’t have their stupid, precious privileges.  I could just walk out now, but soon they would come looking for me.  I could just go into the bathroom and do something stupid, but I promised Matt and Ethan that I 1: would stay alive and in Maine till graduation, and 2: wouldn’t do anything stupid (a.k.a. cut, or anything like that.) Also, Peter would call the men in the nice white, long coats to take me away to a place where I wouldn’t hurt myself any more.  I wouldn’t mind it, but I know that they would make a big scene of it, and it wouldn’t end up nicely for me.  I would probably get a sedative, and then wake up in this white room, padded (for my protection against myself), and in some form of sweats that would make me look even fatter than I am already.  I haven’t eaten anything since last night, and my stomach is starting to feel that familiar pang that I’d grown to love.  That was before Peter called me the “A-word”… and I had eaten an entire order of Lo-Mein just to spite him.  After that my stomach didn’t like me too much.  He screamed at me for days, and made me sick. My stomach is a man.  Everything in my life, besides the obviously female parts of my body, is male.  I don’t know why they are, but they eventually all become male.  Again, Peter says that it’s because of Daddy.  I have no idea about anything these days.  I mean I know that 2 and 2 is 4, and that a knife in my hands doesn’t end up well for my leg.  But other than that I don’t really know what I’m still doing here.  If I had succeeded 2 months ago… how would things have played out? Who would have missed me? Who would have cared? I mean really cared, not the fake “oh, someone died.  She wasn’t popular, or well known or even liked that much, but we should show sympathy” caring.  Essentially I do feel like a HUGE part of me did die that day, that epic night actually.  That time I DIDN’T want to wake up in the morning.  I know that I should care now, but I still find it really hard to.  I should feel ecstatic to be with my friends again, and to be able to see Ethan again, but all I can see is Jeff.  It’s bad.  I feel like I’m going to be sick when I see him and Zoya.  I just don’t really know what to do/say.  We need to start being able to work together.  I know that he wouldn’t like to have to miss a production because I was stage managing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1545033555765187074?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1545033555765187074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1545033555765187074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1545033555765187074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1545033555765187074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/fuck-this-life.html' title='fuck this life'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8168370487835662685</id><published>2009-01-04T20:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T21:57:42.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year?</title><content type='html'>Sitting here, 4 days into my graduating year.  Less than 6 months till I'm 18, and less than 10 till i go off to college.  I have no real direction, except towards the theater.  I will soon be managing/directing 2 shows at one time, and I'm soon going to be just about ready to be going crazy over 2 scripts, 2 casts, and 2 stages that I have to safety check and everything else like that.  I am so paranoid these days. I can't sleep, I can't eat, and I can't really laugh... i mean REALLY laugh any more these days.  Ethan does make me happy, but i just really don't know what to do these days.  I don't know who i can turn to, because Ethan doesn't understand.  I mean, he gets that i'm paranoid about everything.  bue i haven't been able to tell him that i'm hearing my Daddy's voice screaming at me in my head always.  i haven't been able to tell him that he's screaming horrible things at me.  and no matter what i do, i feel like it's the wrong thing.  I feel so horrible about everything in my life, except for him.  Ethan is the 1 thing in my life that seems to be going right at all these days.  He makes me feel so good, but i can't feel &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;REALLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; good if i'm always getting screamed at.  I feel like i am always holding in tears, and i'm trying so hard to not cut, to not release this pain, not to hide my hurt from the world, and place it onto my leg instead.  I've been good.  i don't know how much longer i can be this good, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8168370487835662685?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8168370487835662685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8168370487835662685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8168370487835662685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8168370487835662685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year?'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7092435305629553746</id><published>2008-12-30T18:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T19:05:52.931-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More utter nothingness</title><content type='html'>it's been over a month. I've got a new boyfriend. i started cutting again. I can't stop feeling like i'm completely going crazy.  i can't feel happy when i'm with Ethan, can feel happy when i'm with anyone else.  Can't help myself, and no one else can help me.  no one can help me because i don't know how to help myself.  i feel like i'm spiraling back down to where i was.  I hate the fact that even though i want to change, and do things that i have always wanted, and that i want to do again... i just can't bring myself to do it.  I can't bring myself to have sex, to fall in love, to want to get married, to want to have kids.  I can't bring myself to do it because i don't want to get hurt again.  Jeff was a deep cut, and was probably my first really deep cut too.  i cried so hard when he cut me off, and I did such stupid things... I am just seeming so hopeless... what if i didn't wake up in the morning? would anyone even notice?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7092435305629553746?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7092435305629553746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7092435305629553746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7092435305629553746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7092435305629553746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-utter-nothingness.html' title='More utter nothingness'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4946878615701701341</id><published>2008-11-17T10:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T15:51:30.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another update on my non-existant life</title><content type='html'>ok... well... that friend who i was ranting about at the end of my last post, she apologized, and Jeff and i broke up again because "i've changed too much." but... it's been over a month now since he broke up with me the 1st time, and so i'm not crushed.  probably because i know that i can live without him, and i don't have to be with him.  i've done a lot of thinking about him, but i've found that the past few days, i haven't been able to stop thinking about someone else.  it's been so different.  but really nice.  i'm not trying to be someone else.  i'm just being the me that i'm liking to be now.  i like how i'm not having to walk on eggshells every day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4946878615701701341?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4946878615701701341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4946878615701701341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4946878615701701341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4946878615701701341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/11/another-update-on-my-non-existant-life.html' title='another update on my non-existant life'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4971205366370074716</id><published>2008-10-27T10:25:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T11:09:05.044-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Total Update!!!</title><content type='html'>ok... so... soooo much has happened in the past few weeks.  after still mot getting much sleep, i finally crashed, and everything seemed like it was going to be ok.  then Jeff started getting moody... it seemed like every time he heard something that someone said about me, be it truth or fiction, he seemed to get very pissy and distance himself.  then he broke up with me.  he said it was because I was making things too stressful, but i knew that it was things at his house and school, and other stuff that was what was really getting to him... i told him that, and now he finally does believe me.  because we're back to being friendly again.  I'm still a little making sure that i am always telling him the truth, and so far, so good.  I've taken a vow of celibacy, and that's been going quite well also.  i've been a bit moody the past few days, but i think it's because i don't really have a healthy place to yell/shout/scream, and all around vent my anger and frustration at.  My teachers (my SS teach specifically) doesn't know what the fuck she is doing, the guidance guy wants me to take forever to apply, when i'm just needing copies of papers to send to my schools of choice, and then i'm set.  i don't need people psycho-analyzing me and my choices.  I just need to spend a limited amount of time with those types of people to get my grade, and to get the copies of the papers that i need.  how fucking hard is it to print off a couple papers!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just sick of people being such ass-holes. especially my mother.  she's been asking me every fucking 5 minutes "are you ok?"... when i say yes, she ALWAYS says "you sure? you don't look it"... wtf am i supposed to say to that woman?? "ya, i'm pissed off at everything, and especially you for always fucking breathing down my goddamn neck!"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i just really need to hit something. or someone... perhaps someone who is trying to a)steal my boyfriend, maybe not for her own pleasure, but just to keep me away from him, or b) sleep with my boyfriend... i mean... she doesn't have enough fuck buddies!? and she's had how many abortions!?!?... ya... she's told me about at least 7... at LEAST... so ya... nothing is going right, i'm pissed at everyone, and i'm fucking bored as hell in study hall... at least i have Pi Story...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4971205366370074716?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4971205366370074716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4971205366370074716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4971205366370074716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4971205366370074716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/total-update.html' title='Total Update!!!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-6241994912105156561</id><published>2008-09-22T19:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T19:35:46.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'>screw Up</title><content type='html'>I feel like i'm not able to do anything right at all these days.  I wish that I could not upset Jeff anymore... i want to be such a better person/girlfriend/student. I can't help felling that no matter what i do these days i'm always messing up, or pissing someone off... especially Jeff... It seems like everything that i do always pisses Jeff of, or i feel horrible about after i do it.  I know that i should be eating and stuff, but after i do, i feel like crap.  Whenever i do anything, it always seems to come back to bite me in the ass... might this be from going off of all of my meds??... because i haven't really gotten any sleep in the past 2 weeks either...  i mean... i know that i've been getting at least 6 hours a night... about... but it still doesn't feel like anything... and don't anyone say anything about me going to bed earlier, because i've tried.  I've tried to go to bed at 8, but still don't fall asleep till around 10 or 11.  it's always going to get better... some time...  but i'm just not sure when that will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-6241994912105156561?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6241994912105156561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=6241994912105156561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6241994912105156561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6241994912105156561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/09/screw-up.html' title='screw Up'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3762133136490728912</id><published>2008-09-18T19:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:29:29.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>food II</title><content type='html'>whenever i start to eat to fool my parents, i end up eating 10 bites of mashed potatoes and carrots, and a small piece of corned beef (that was what they cooked tonight for dinner)... and i always feel like i'm going to get sick after i eat, but i can't make myself get sick right now... it hurts too much, because i've got a sore throat as well right now as well. I just really wish that i knew what to do this time, because being me right now sucks.  I want to just take my knife and cut all of my fat off of my damn legs, but i know that i'd just be called crazy if i did that... but it's what i want... i want all of this fat on my legs and stomach to be gone.  i want to have all of the imperfections about me gone, but i do admit that i like my boobs, though.  and Jeff really likes my bubbly butt, but i really don't like the fat that clings to it, and the stretch marks that come with it.  Just shoot me now, because i'm seriously not happy in this body that i've been given... but i've changed it already once, what says i can't do it again??&lt;br /&gt;I think i'll try again to keep myself perfect this time.  no, i WILL keep/get myself perfect this time... and nothing and no one can stop me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3762133136490728912?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3762133136490728912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3762133136490728912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3762133136490728912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3762133136490728912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/09/food-ii.html' title='food II'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4733671508175657934</id><published>2008-09-16T17:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T18:54:16.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>food</title><content type='html'>do we really need food to survive? how many days can we go without eating? how many days did the people in the Bible go without eating? What if i ate dinner tonight, and then i didn't eat again?... Would anyone really care if I didn't eat again??  Would people "care" if I just disappeared into nothing?? I'm so sick of my body these days, and I'm sick of being fat.  i hate how i feel after i eat every day.  I always get burps that hurt, and my stomach aches, and head hurts for hours after i've eaten.  It seems like the only thing that i can keep down, and feel ok about it is water and pretzels.  I don't really want to be here any more, i don't want my fat to be taking up too much space.  I know that i shouldn't feel that way, but i do, and nothing that anyone really says can change my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4733671508175657934?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4733671508175657934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4733671508175657934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4733671508175657934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4733671508175657934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/09/food.html' title='food'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-338418892990949465</id><published>2008-06-16T21:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T21:21:39.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy</title><content type='html'>I'm furious with a man who died 8 1/2 years ago.  I know that it sounds strange, but I am.  he left me hanging in the dark... he said that we were going to make all of these plans, that we were going to do all of these things, and we never got to do anything because he decided to be selfish... I don't know why i'm feeling in such an October type of mood, but i am... I'm feeling abandoned right now, and completely helpless... I feel like i've let so many people down in one way or another by me being like I am... and i'm feeling like i fucked up with helping Kare sooo many times.  I have looped completely from screaming in my car on the way home to feeling lost, scared, helpless, abandoned, useless, and a complete waste...  I don't know what to do... because i want Kare to be able to do good on his English final tomorrow morning... so i'm not going to call him... i think that the easiest thing for me to do would be to just take a hot shower, and then go to bed... but I can't... i have to stay up until my dog comes in... which won't be till my mother comes home... sooo... i get to sit here and try and expel all of my bad thoughts and other things onto this blog post so that i don't do something stupid that i'd have to try and hide from Kare, and the cast... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that the only thing that has kept me sane through this entire night is the fact that i've been at a theater/on a stage a lot of the night... so i've tried to keep myself busy... whether it be worrying about Kare, trying to keep him distracted, trying to keep myself busy... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know anymore... I'm sorry Kare... I Love You, but other than that... at this moment in time... i just don't know... I WILL see you in the morning, though... i can promise you that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-338418892990949465?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/338418892990949465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=338418892990949465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/338418892990949465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/338418892990949465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/06/daddy.html' title='Daddy'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2687812796449999232</id><published>2008-06-01T21:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T22:15:18.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>100th Post</title><content type='html'>Wow... my 100th post... and I'm gonna have it be a fucking rant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy gram has been seeing me for the past 2 days... I hate her, end of story.  She has had kidney issues, and her doctors told her to do this, and do that to stay ALIVE... she's gained at least 75lbs since i remember her as someone i wanted to spend time with.  She has gone all over New England and in doing that has completely lost her grip of reality.  She is broke from all of this traveling and she is wearing her husband, my Grandpa, down.  He has had to come out of retirement to "support" her and this life which she thinks is completely normal.  She comes to my house the other night and she completely is everywhere.  She is doing this and this.  She is cleaning out her purse, looking for crappy birthday gifts &lt;br /&gt;(ok... some of the things that she got me i REALLY like... like the necklace I was wearing today and will be wearing tomorrow... but other than that... it's a bunch of crap that only she thinks is ok to give me...)&lt;br /&gt;and other stuff ike that.  Then, when we finally sit down, and she starts to give me my gifts, and talk, and be "normal" she starts cramming Jesus down my throat... AGAIN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I can remember my grandmother has been VERY spiritual, and i'm totally fine with that... it's when she makes me go to church, or forces my mum to go and she makes me go that bothers me.  I worship in my own way, in my own time, and she will never really realize that.  A Lot of people don't realize that I am SOOOOO uncomfortable in a church.  I'd rather be in the middle of the woods with my iPod, meditating and taking in the wonders of this earth than listen to a sermon.  &lt;br /&gt;I hate conforming to the standing, singing, sitting, listening, standing to greet your neighbor and not knowing them and having that be awkward, sitting again, listening, standing, singing, sitting, listening, then standing to "leave" which is really having to socialize for 20 minutes before you go home... &lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong... in the right environment (Chop Point) I am very "bible oriented"... but when i'm not choosing to be there, and i'm forced... then have to think about stuff, and have to talk about it later... i HATE it... I hate being forced to do anything... but going to church is top on my list.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother once forced me to go to church, and i had a huge fight with her about me not wanting to go... I went, to get her to shut up, but we soon left every church that we went to because she didn't like it... After that day, she's never forced me to do anything that I didn't want to do... but those around her have, especially my mum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, after my shower, i went downstairs and gave my mum and grandpa a hug goodnight.  My grandmother was pre-occupied with my dog, and also she's changed so much that she's a complete stranger to me.  I've made it a goal in my life not to hug strangers, but when my mother called me back downstairs, I knew that it was to give her a hug... I did, because I didn't want to threaten to call Crisis on her, and have to admit to her about how I know them so well... but it was quick.  After that I went upstairs and continued to get ready for bed, and my grandpa came up... he said that I should be better to her, and I said "i've made it a thing not to hug strangers, and that's who she is these days.  I hate it, but I don't know her at all," and unless she is willing to go somewhere and get professional help, i'm not sure if that will ever change... By go somewhere, i mean admit herself to a mental hospital... but she'll never do that... because she's already too sick in the head to do anything... and the fucking state will side with the mentally ill in a case like this so we can only call Crisis if she is doing harm to herself... I wish that my mum would... but she's too proud to do that... and they won't take my word because i'm only 17... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gah!... it's quarter-past-10, and i've got school in the morning... grrr... and i'm Really tired too... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've needed to get this off of my chest for a while... so... i feel better... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Angel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2687812796449999232?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2687812796449999232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2687812796449999232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2687812796449999232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2687812796449999232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/06/100th-post.html' title='100th Post'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4585286876639323103</id><published>2008-05-21T19:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T20:44:40.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No One Knows</title><content type='html'>Printing a few of my chapters of my novelette, it made me feel better.  Getting everything together... it's been making me feel better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone that doesn't know the history that I've had with... let's call him "The Enemy"... doesn't know what has happened.  They don't know why I've acted the way that I have towards him, and they don't know why I said what I said.  These people don't know why I've had to cut him out of my life completely.  They don't know how much I used to care about him, but now when I think about him, all I get is a knot in my stomach and it's filled with wanting to just slap him across the face, even if he's done nothing wrong.  They don't know that he's changed so much, and that he was the one that made me worse.  They don't know that he was the one that let me keep staying loud, annoying and generally just what I was trying to let everyone else see for so many years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knows why we used to act the way we did, and no one understands how we used to talk to each other.  No one understands what happened last time that we talked, and no one will ever know, besides Kare, because he read it... That was the last time that we talked, and i haven't gone back since... I sent him one e-mail telling him that everything was over.  He responded because I wanted to know if he had any questions.  After he said no, I said goodnight, and got offline.  Shooting dirty looks is the only thing that I feel that I can do these days to make him uncomfortable.  I want him to stay as far away from me as he can, and till he is never there, as in next year, I don't know what I'm going to do without Kare.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love Kare, more than I have ever loved someone else.  Looking back at the time... I now know that I tricked myself into falling in love with The Enemy.  I thought that I was in love with him because he was cute, he was nice, and he was there for me.  I was wrong, though.  He wasn't there how I needed him to be there for me, and I could always see myself without him in my life.  I never knew that I wasn't being myself.  I was trying to be what he wanted me to be, to make him happy, so I could have stability and what I thought I needed in a relationship.  I thought that I needed someone to be there for me who would just make me push past all of my troubles, but that only allowed me to push them under the rug, and to run away from them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been needing to face my problems head-on for years, and The Enemy never let me do that.  He only let me be what he wanted me to be.  He put me on this pedestal and didn't let me down.  It was only till I came crashing down that he saw me for who I really was.  It was only till I crashed down to earth that everything became real for me.  It was only till I crash-landed that I saw what I had been doing for FAR too long.  It wasn't till I made a mess of everything that I could start taking control of my life again, whether that was in a destructive or helpful way, I just started to take control of my life however I wanted to.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woah, I don't even know where I wanted this to go... but... i think that i've been writing this long enough... I hope that everything is taken care of tomorrow.  So that everything can go seamlessly on Friday!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4585286876639323103?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4585286876639323103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4585286876639323103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4585286876639323103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4585286876639323103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-one-knows.html' title='No One Knows'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1185262385726514439</id><published>2008-05-20T22:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:42:09.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing</title><content type='html'>"I guess I get to be the bad guy.. and I am fine with that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those words were said by an arch-enemy.  They held meaning as well.  I wanted to know if he had gotten the letter that i sent to him, but i couldn't just call him... so i asked him online... When he said those words about it... i couldn't lie and tell him that they weren't true, because they are... he was... and you were right... as soon as he thought that he could get some action elsewhere... he stopped caring about what I thought, what i said, and everything that he was known for because he thought/thinks that he can get some action/commitment/adoration/attention from another person... i've already told him that... if he hurts her... he'll have me to deal with... He said that he wasn't scared... but... he doesn't realize just how many cards I am holding... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the main reason that i'm writing this tonight is because... i'm back to writing my novelette again, and i'm really getting into it a lot deeper... I need to print it tomorrow, so I have hard copies of it... but... it's going to be a long process... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow... i'm fighting to keep my eyes open... i'll finish my thoughts in the morning... till then... think about this... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What does writing do for you? What does a powerful speech, saying, word, or even a simple quote say to you? Does it change you forever? Do you just let the culture immersed in the pages, in the syllables, or in the words themselves slip right in one ear and out the other?? Where would we be without writing?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1185262385726514439?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1185262385726514439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1185262385726514439&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1185262385726514439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1185262385726514439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/writing.html' title='Writing'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5260242657179434459</id><published>2008-05-12T17:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T17:46:37.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to my editor 2</title><content type='html'>Dearest Editor:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You more than anything in this world, and I can't imagine my life without you.  This last month has been the hardest month of my life.  Every October included, because... every day, I didn't know what to do with myself... and... now that you're home, i still don't know what to do with myself.  So... now i'm just completely lost.  When I'm with you, everything feels right, but... without you, i'm even more of a wreck than i was with you gone.  I can't stand these nights alone, without my Love.  I can't stand this.  I want to just sneak over every night, and just be with you.  The reason why i've been so picky/naggy about you calling me when you leave to go somewhere, or where you get home from being somewhere... it's not because i'm possessive... (that's only if you're with Graci)... it's because I want to make sure that you're ok, and are safe.  I worry sooo much about you every single day I don't think that i will ever stop till we're together forever, till we're living together, and I can always know when your'e home, because i'll be waiting for you.  That's why... whenever you can... i'd REALLY appreciate it if you could just text me/give me a quick call when you go somewhere... or get home... so that I KNOW that you're safe.  I don't care if you have to do other stuff, or if you can't get online to talk to me... i don't care, as long as you're safe.  because... i don't know what i'd do without you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5260242657179434459?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5260242657179434459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5260242657179434459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5260242657179434459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5260242657179434459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/letter-to-my-editor-2.html' title='Letter to my editor 2'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-759099965299493989</id><published>2008-05-11T21:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:58:37.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gnawing Truth</title><content type='html'>Ever since you said something yesterday... I haven't been able to get it out of my mind... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You were addicted to Pain killers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand that I was hooked on them... but... what you said/how you said it held a truth.  They were such a big part of my life... and... I gave them up... for you.  When I used to wake up in the morning, and wasn't able to really concentrate without taking a hand-full of pills.  I was a druggie... and... I am just sooo scared that I'll relapse... I live by this rule... and I Know that you've heard me say it before:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The 13th step is ALWAYS Relapse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live by it, and I am sooo terrified that I'm going to completely lose it one of these days and I'm going to slip up and REALLY mess up.  I'm sorry that I feel like that... but... I do feel like I'm going to completely fall back into my dark spiral.  I can't even begin to tell you how scared I am... but... I know that you'll be there to help me when I'm feeling down... I know that you will be there to help me when I'm feeling like I'm going to completely lose it.  I know that you are always there for me, and that you will always help me when I need your help.  It's been bothering me, and has completely eating at my mind... but... I'm sure that you will be able to make my mind feel better tonight/tomorrow morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Kare Bear... I want you to know that... and I'll do anything to not fall back into that bad shame spiral that I was in... even if that means that I have to admit myself to some place that is safe... where you can still see me every/every other day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-759099965299493989?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/759099965299493989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=759099965299493989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/759099965299493989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/759099965299493989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/gnawing-truth.html' title='Gnawing Truth'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2442895075431499366</id><published>2008-05-11T10:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T11:17:48.157-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love/compatbility</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left" style="width:250px!important;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowNetworking="internal" height="289" width="250" align="middle" data="http://www.the-n.com/games/lovebot/loveBadge.swf" ID="Object1" VIEWASTEXT&gt; &lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /&gt; &lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="internal" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.the-n.com/games/lovebot/loveBadge.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="n1=67,111,117,114,116,110,101,121&amp;n2=74,101,102,102,114,101,121&amp;r=7" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode"value="transparent"/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="width:70px!important; height:66px;position: relative; top: -110px; left: 170px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the-n.com/games/lovebot/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.the-n.com/img/spacer.gif" border="0" width="70" height="66"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took it to be sure... (because i was already sure of it... i just wanted to see if a stupid calculator online could tell if we were perfect together...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok... so... for the past few days... i feel like i've been "haunted"... or at least been "watched over" by 2 people... one of which i'm planning on spending the rest of my life with, and the other, who i have never met, but... is a great part of my life already.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean that i'm feeling like someone's ghost is following me... i just feel like she's protecting me, and... giving me strength to get through this past 3 weeks.   It's been strangely comforting to feel Ash and my dad there... but... it's also been very scary... because... i want to believe that they're there... i want to believe it sooo bad... but... I just can't believe that they're there, or that they're sooo close to me with being sooo far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's another thing... Ever since Kare came home... it seems like every time that we try to have a serious conversation it turns into a fight... i'm just REALLY not sure where to go from here... I Love Him more than anything in this world, but... when it comes to us talking about stuff like who i've been talking to, or stuff that i should do... I know that he understands... i just... wish that i could respect his wishes a little more... i wish that it was easier for me to... but... I'm just not sure how this is going to be tomorrow... when we go back to school... and everyone is stopping us to say "HI" to Kare... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just sooo completely lost without him by my side... and... this past month... has been sooo hard for me without him there, without being able to read him... because... knowing how he is, and how he feels... that makes me feel better... just knowing that i can tell if he's feeling good, bad, or if he's totally blocking everyone out... i don't care what he's feeling... just... knowing that i know what he's feeling makes me feel better... i know... i'm rambling, and i'm not making any sense... but... I'm trying... i'm trying to be good... and nothing bad has happened that i didn't tell him about... so... i guess i'd better stop before my head starts to hurt... I'll talk to you at rehearsal... because i'm gonna get there a little early anyway... (like around 1:45)... so... ya... and... if we want to tell her our big news today... so be it... but... if we don't... we can just wait till the right time... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Kare Bear, more than i've ever loved anyone, anything, or anybody... (i know that the 1st and 3rd are the same... i just had to say it in 3's)...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2442895075431499366?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2442895075431499366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2442895075431499366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2442895075431499366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2442895075431499366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/lovecompatbility.html' title='Love/compatbility'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-6770554795515574188</id><published>2008-04-22T13:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T13:47:41.881-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Longest Week In My Life</title><content type='html'>it's been 9 days since i saw my love... I can't stand being sooo far away from him... I don't know exactly where he is, people ask where he is, and i just tell them that he is on vacation... but... that's a lie... (technically)... I've been sooo strong this past week, but... being away from him... i can't see him.. i'm completely shutting down.  &lt;br /&gt;     Everything that i do, makes me miss him even more... even going on websites that we went onto together... it kills me, i have to stay busy, though... No one knows how lost i feel right now... because they're probably never had their love ripped away from them, without even getting to say goodbye...&lt;br /&gt;     When I think of what he might be going through, i can't even think straight... I cry every time i start to think about him, and when i start to miss him... i get a knot in my stomach, and my eyes start to water, and i can't help but cry.  &lt;br /&gt;     WHY CAN'T HE COME HOME!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-6770554795515574188?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6770554795515574188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=6770554795515574188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6770554795515574188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6770554795515574188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/04/longest-week-in-my-life.html' title='Longest Week In My Life'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3198601540940641026</id><published>2008-03-27T01:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T01:37:29.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Helper</title><content type='html'>i've just spent the past hour at least helping people in a chat room for emo/self mutilating kids... and you know what... i felt like i really made a difference... i helped 3 people, and made a new friend... i was surprised how easily the help/advice came into my head, and was there on the screen a moment later... and the things that i said actually made sense... almost all of these kids had been physically abused... and i could only empathize with them, but when it came time to talk about cutting, and other things like that... i was there... 1000%... i could know exactly what these people were going through, and it sounded good coming out of my fingers... i mentioned You at least 10 times... and i told them about the CJ you carved.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then i told them how we've been clean for so long, and they actually believed that we could do that with just Love and dedication...&lt;br /&gt;i told them about my baggie, and how i gave it to you... &lt;br /&gt;i haven't told them about how you're holding onto my pocket knife... but eventually i will...&lt;br /&gt;I told them a lot, but i kept it vague... like i know how to... i used the nickname&lt;br /&gt;SuicidalAngel&lt;br /&gt;It felt so good to help people... and i actually thought about becoming a shrink while i was talking to them...&lt;br /&gt;It would be great... i could help teens... and make sure that they didn't go through My Black October... I'm thinking about sleeping, but my mind is racing... i can't sleep... that's what Theater is for... with a Sub... i can sleep... '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Kare... and to my other readers... SPREAD THE WORD!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3198601540940641026?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3198601540940641026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3198601540940641026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3198601540940641026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3198601540940641026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/03/helper.html' title='Helper'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1686998068506566149</id><published>2008-03-06T22:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T23:04:47.865-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing someone special</title><content type='html'>people all mourn differently... some mourn by making out with strangers who might possibly be their relatives at the wake of the deceased.  Others may take a drive, and end up at a sentimental place for that person and the person who has passed.  Most of the time, though... at any wake... you'll see a bunch of people crying, and telling stories about this time and that time with the "dearly beloved"... that's not what i do... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at my dad's funeral... i was the only dry eye (that was related to him) in the entire funeral home... same thing at my grandfather's and grandmother's... but you can be sure that i was crying in my bed every night after i heard the news... and even up to a week after the funeral... i feel like i have no soul when i go to things where everyone else is crying... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i'm trying to make someone else feel better over a loss... the only thing that i know how to do is to either: &lt;br /&gt;a) distract them, and make them laugh, or &lt;br /&gt;b) just hold them, and tell them that everything is going to be okay... &lt;br /&gt;i feel like neither of these methods work very well... my mother did these things with me... she also said the whole "people die, kids get over it" thing... i just don't get my mother any more these days... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tell her that i've got issues... and not even 10 min after i've told her... she's trying to get me to laugh, or blaming me for doing something wrong, or telling me that i'm just trying to get attention... Not once has she actually tried to get me help, other than when i didn't need it... not once has she really cared about how my day went, or about what me and Kare are doing... Not once has she genuinely asked me how my day went... she's just going through the motions... and the sad thing is is that i'm her first child... i'm NOT her last, but i am her girl... i'm not HER Angel... i'm Kare's Angel... she tells me all of this stuff that she wants me to do for college, and when i tell her that i've found the campus that i want to go to... she doesn't even hear me... she doesn't ask about it at all... she just pretends that i'm going to go to Messiah still and so that she can visit... BULL SHIT!... i'm going to the University Of Windsor with Kare... we're getting out of the US... and headed up north... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M mother is just going through the motions nowadays... she's pretending that she's there, but really... she's just a stranger that i share a house with... she doesn't really care about what i do... as long as i get a job, so i can pay for my own stuff... she doesn't care... and when i try and tell her that she's not paying any attention to me, she plays the "work card"... and blames me for her having to get a second job... it's not my fault that the Real Estate buisness is down, it's not MY fault that it's not paying that much... it's not MY fault that she has a cruddy job at HOme Depot... and yet... whenever i say that she isn't paying any attention to me, or anything like that... she ALWAYS finds a way to blame me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what else i can say... i wish that i couold more in with my Kare tomorrow... but i can't... i guess that's it for now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Angel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1686998068506566149?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1686998068506566149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1686998068506566149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1686998068506566149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1686998068506566149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/03/missing-someone-special.html' title='Missing someone special'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4125991431312575875</id><published>2008-02-24T22:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T22:57:15.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Well... I had a bad day today... and it's not because of Jeff not being able to text to me, it was because of something that a friend said... and i don't think that i got a wink of sleep at all last night because of it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was trying to give him some advice about something that i've gone through (spraining your wrist) and he wasn't listening to my advice about it, because i haven't taken his advice about taking better care of myself... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he said that he "understands" what i'm going through, but i say that if you haven't been through something that you're trying to help someone with... you're just like a white female in this day writing about black slavery... you may know all about it, and have seen people go through it, but unless you were there, you can't really help people through what they're going through... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can be supportive, but you can't say that you understand unless you've actually been through something... and not a friend of yours... You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been pissing me off... because whenever he says that he understands... i just laugh inside, because i know that he's full of crap... he might have a few issues... but his life is on the fucking Good Ship Lollipop... at least he still has his parents together, at least he is good at something... so what if his sister's a little dysfunctional... HIS LIFE IS PIE compared to mine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4125991431312575875?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4125991431312575875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4125991431312575875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4125991431312575875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4125991431312575875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/02/bad-day.html' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4779202743131011218</id><published>2008-02-20T01:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T02:04:03.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Issue of the night?</title><content type='html'>i have no idea what happened to updating this every week... or even bi-weekly... but i don't care... i've finally got someone who loves me for me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... the reason for this post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm up at almost 2 in the morning, and all i can think about is my dad... &lt;br /&gt;Yes... Daddy... the one who left me forever at the tender age of 8... I just don't know what to say about him... but i really feel like i sort-of have a rant coming on...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"He left me, and for a little while, i was fine. but now I need you to be here by my side. I'm not that little girl, i was a long time ago. I'm growing up so fast now..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics to a song that i wrote... i think that they're completely fitting... Although... Daddy didn't walk out... but he did choose to leave me... it's not like an act of God could have made him do what he did... dammit... i always try and make these things as vague as i can... but when i'm talking about this... i just can't... I wish that he was here so i could tel him all of the things that he's missed. I wish that he had been here to see me "graduate" 8th grade, to meet my first real boyfriend, to see me through the heartbreak of a break-up... to meet Matt... to help me through October,  but most of all... i just wish that i had a father-figure to help me through those bad times, and to catch me before i fell.  I think that if he'd been around... i wouldn't be HALF as fucked up as i am... just because a ton of my issues come from Daddy leaving... including why October is a Toxic month for me.  I don't think that my life would have been better... but i do think that a lot of the hardships that i've been through i wouldn't have gone through if he'd been alive... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i had just one wish, i would wish to see my dad right before he left, and warn him about how life was going to be for others if he did leave... i would tell him about all of the bad times that Angela, my mother, his family, and mostly... I would face because he was gone... i would tell him/show him my arm, and tell him that it was his fault... because he abandoned me... then i would have him meet Jeff... the only guy that i trust with my life, my heart, my soul, and my body... The only guy that i can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with... and i would tell Daddy that he wasn't able to see me get married because he was gone... forever... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like i'm going to be sick. and my head hurts... i'll finish this tomorrow @ Skool... during rehearsal... if i remember to bring my laptop... if not... you'll get it later tomorrow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4779202743131011218?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4779202743131011218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4779202743131011218&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4779202743131011218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4779202743131011218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/02/issue-of-night.html' title='Issue of the night?'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5930864837599938927</id><published>2008-02-03T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T14:01:47.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Week By Week</title><content type='html'>My life is going sooo great... i'm actually just thinking about cutting down writing on here to a weekly thing... or else i'm going to be writing about nothing.  I finally feel like my life is going in the right direction... I'm in love, and Jeff is a GREAT boyfriend.  He's loyal, trusting, caring, cute, and completely mine.  He's always there when i need him, and always know how to make me smile... even when i don't want to.  His parents also really like "us" and me... which is a plus in any relationship... I feel at home at his place... not out of place... i mesh perfectly with him, and his life style, and everything about him... I hate to sound cliché, or pun-ny... but he really really is my other half... he's the Antony to my Johanna, the Roger to my Mimi, the Kare to my Angel.  I Love Him, and I'm head over heels in love with him. I can't stand being away from him, and I just always want to be with him.  I could gush forever over this... but I don't think that I should... because I think that I'd start going in circles... even more than i am going because of how much I am in love with Jeff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5930864837599938927?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5930864837599938927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5930864837599938927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5930864837599938927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5930864837599938927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/02/week-by-week.html' title='Week By Week'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2788085073981180363</id><published>2008-01-27T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T17:44:25.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost In Blissful Love</title><content type='html'>OK... so... i know that i haven't written on here in like 15 days... but a LOT has happened in that time.  As you all know, Jeff and I are together, and i'm finally getting my life on track.  I really feel like everything that i'm doing these days is right.  We've spent every weekend together, except for 1... It's been great.  Seeing him makes my day so perfect.  Now that his parents know that we're dating, It really has been a lot different than when I was with Matt... I don't really know what else to say... Jeff is my Night In Shining Armor, and he's taking me to new hights that i thought were impossible with Matt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending all of this time with Jeff has really made my relationship with him... a lot better than any other relationship that i've had with any other guy... i mean... last night, we were hanging out in his room, he was helping me work on my song, and i was on his bed, and we weren't doing anything sexual, and his dad comes and tells him that we needed to be in a "more public" place... whatever... if they had let me, i would have slept in the pool room, right next to Jeff's room, and just snuck into his room and slept in his arms.  as it is, i went into his room this morning and woke him up with a kiss... I liked doing it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why i'm saying all of this, but i feel like i should tell people... and i really feel like writing on here... about how damn happy i am... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE JEFF M. FOREVER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2788085073981180363?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2788085073981180363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2788085073981180363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2788085073981180363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2788085073981180363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/lost-in-blissful-love.html' title='Lost In Blissful Love'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8768500400663647083</id><published>2008-01-13T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T12:08:21.799-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Is...</title><content type='html'>People are always asking what Love means, and people want to know when you know what love really is... I know that I've found my Knight In Shining Armour now... and i know that I'm in love... this is real... because even when he's just been gone for a few minutes... i miss him like crazy... and when I'm talking to him... nothing else in the world matters... I always want to see him happy, and try and comfort him when he's sad, or just feeling down... I love how he can brighten my day with just a smile, and how nothing can go wrong when I'm in his arms... i love how i feel when i'm in his arms... and how warm, and comfortable i feel when he's looking at me... but most of all i love him... i don't know what else to say... i guess that's all i needed to say... because I'm in love, and i've never been happier than i am right now... because i know that he's always going to be there, and he knows some of the things that i've gone through... so he can help me even more than anyone could have...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8768500400663647083?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8768500400663647083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8768500400663647083&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8768500400663647083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8768500400663647083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/love-is.html' title='Love Is...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7106686009562901209</id><published>2008-01-08T18:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T17:08:21.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wtf</title><content type='html'>what's going on with me... I just had probably the best day in a while... and then after I got home... I started thinking about the past... and then after I did that... I started thinking about how my life got how it got so messed up... I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff... and that with 1 bad word, or 1 wrong move... I could be pushed off... or jump ... So... I'm sitting here... waiting for someone to talk to... and i'm trying to get my words out onto this post... but i just can't seem to... i can't seem to think what i'm feeling in straight words... Last night i cut... it was the first time in a long time... and after i was done... i felt better... then i felt dizzy... like i felt too good... but then... after i fell asleep... i had good dreams... dreams that i haven't had in a long time... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Dream i was getting ready for my wedding... i had the perfect dress... the perfect wedding party... and the perfect groom... and then it came time for me to walk down the aisle with my father... he was actually there...  This was in an alternate universe... and i was so happy... then... when i was walking to the altar... to see my new husband-to-be... he turned his face around... and he was smiling sooo much... seeing Jeff... it made me really happy... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i woke up this morning i felt a little better...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7106686009562901209?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7106686009562901209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7106686009562901209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7106686009562901209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7106686009562901209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/wtf.html' title='wtf'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2883700354763973994</id><published>2008-01-03T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T09:53:21.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R3-UAuhkRyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/qNlj5iMuAZM/s1600-h/Happy_New_Year_by_djmikan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R3-UAuhkRyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/qNlj5iMuAZM/s320/Happy_New_Year_by_djmikan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151999238944868130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ok... so... i feel very lazy because this is my my first post of the new year.  but everything is going great in my life right now... Sure... Sarah may be mad at me... but i've got Jeff... we aren't officially bf/gf... but we are together, and we will be forever. I just don't get why Sarah's so mad.  I mean. i brought in the new year right with Jeff. a guy who really truly loves me.  i'm sorry that she couldn't do the same with her guy... but whatever...&lt;br /&gt;    so... Matt and i broke up... and now Jeff and i are going to make our dating official on Monday at skool... and this time it's going great... we've only had 1 problem, and we worked it out.. i can't help feeling like this is going to work out... i mean it... i'm just so happy right now... i guess that it's just that everything is going so perfectly.  and i love it... i thought that New Years was going to be me, alone... or worse... me and my parents... ugh... the horror... but thankfully Jeff realized through our talks that i NEEDED to get out of the house... and so he invited me... i went... and after his parents and sister and friends went to bed... we did the dishes, watched South Park The Movie, and then brought in the new year right... our way... no we didn't have sex... we just laid there in each other's arms... (for some of it) and it all felt right... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the week started, and after Matt wasn't mad at me an more... i decided that it might be best if Jeff and i made our relationship public... because i can't stand walking down the ahll with him, and not holding his hand, or not kissing him goodbye before i go to class... I've fallen head-over-heels, loopy, crazy in love with him... and i couldn't be happier that i'm with a guy who knows what i've been through, and can help me more than i ever knew possible just by siting on IM with me for hours at a time...  it's great... i could keep on rambling on about how much i love Jeff for hours... but i don't have that long... so i guess i'll end this... I LOVE YOU BABE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Angel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2883700354763973994?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2883700354763973994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2883700354763973994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2883700354763973994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2883700354763973994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R3-UAuhkRyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/qNlj5iMuAZM/s72-c/Happy_New_Year_by_djmikan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8194917074944106774</id><published>2007-12-30T12:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T12:38:21.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Boyfriend:</title><content type='html'>When she pushes you or hits you like a retard because she thinks shes stronger than you:&lt;br /&gt;[ Grab her and don't let go ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she starts cursing at you trying to act all tough:&lt;br /&gt;[ Kiss her and tell her you love her ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she's quiet:&lt;br /&gt;[ Ask her whats wrong ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she ignores you:&lt;br /&gt;[ Give her your attention ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she pulls away:&lt;br /&gt;[ Pull her back ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you see her at her worst:&lt;br /&gt;[ Tell her she's beautiful ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you see her start crying:&lt;br /&gt;[Just hold her and don't say a word ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you see her walking:&lt;br /&gt;[ Sneak up and hug her waist from behind ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she's scared:&lt;br /&gt;[ Protect her ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she steals your favorite hoodie:&lt;br /&gt;[ Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she teases you:&lt;br /&gt;[ Tease her back and make her laugh ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she doesn't answer for a long time:&lt;br /&gt;[ reassure her that everything is okay ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she looks at you with doubt:&lt;br /&gt;[ Back yourself up ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she says that she loves you:&lt;br /&gt;[ she really does more than you could understand ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she grabs at your hands:&lt;br /&gt;[ Hold hers and play with her fingers ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she bumps into you with her big ass hips ;)&lt;br /&gt;[ bump into her back and make her laugh ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she tells you a secret:&lt;br /&gt;[ keep it safe and untold ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she looks at you in your eyes:&lt;br /&gt;[ don't look away until she does ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stay on the phone with her even if she's not saying anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When she says she's OK don't believe it, talk with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- because 10 yrs later she'll remember you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Call her at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Treat her like she's all that matters to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Stay up all night with her when she's sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Watch her favorite movie with her or her favorite show even if you think it's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Give her the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Let her wear your clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When she's bored and sad, hang out with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Let her know she's important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Kiss her in the pouring rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When she runs up at you crying, the first thing you say is;&lt;br /&gt;"Who's ass am I kicking baby?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this was sweet, so i copied it off of Myspace, and put it on here... with a few minor adjustments. So... everything has been happening so fast, i guess I've just gotten swept up in the rush of it all... so... Friday... Matt and i broke up... and i felt really good about it because He and i are sort-of back together... it's not official yet, but I'm his, and he's mine... we are sort of "getting away from our problems" but it;s by following our hearts, not our heads that we can do this... i love him, and i always have... since the first time i said it to Him... I've always meant it... and always will... i love how i feel right now, because it seems like everything is in the right place now... I'm not fighting with anyone, i am loved, i am in love, i feel safe, i am free to be me (that's a big one) and I'm genuinely happy, which i can't say i have been for a while... it felt like when i was with Matt, i was always trying to be good for him... i felt like his little china doll, that couldn't ever get a scratch... but now that I'm with Jeff... i know that I'm not made of glass, but of something stronger... and i can mess up every once in a while, i just have to be truthful about it... and that doesn't meant that i can cheat on him, tell him about it, and then it's all OK... no... it means that if i cut, or i do something stupid like that, that i tell him, and he'll hold me, and lie to me and tell me that everything will be OK, even if we're going into an Armageddon... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love this feeling... and i hope that it never goes away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8194917074944106774?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8194917074944106774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8194917074944106774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8194917074944106774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8194917074944106774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/perfect-boyfriend.html' title='The Perfect Boyfriend:'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-89166519337011983</id><published>2007-12-28T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T10:39:04.295-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm sad</title><content type='html'>ok... so... i'm finally letting myself admit that i love Him, and Matt... i don't know what i should do... because He knows that i love Matt too... but Matt doesn't know, and will NEVER know that i still love him... I just really am at a loss for words... and i'm shaking, my throat is closing up... i just really badly want a hug, from Him, but i know that he's not that wanting to talk to me right now... and i guess i deserve it... but he tells me not to love him, and i can't stop loving him... i just wish that we could go back to last night, and have me get of the net before anything happened... because it seems like that would've been a lot easier... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to stop him when we were fighting about how he's "not kawaii"... would have been so simple... but i &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to see how far it would go... i wanted to feel that rush from him... but i guess i'll never know that feeling again... i'm just sick to my stomach, and i think that he might have done something stupid... i just want to be there with him... and hold him... and then drive away with him... away from all of our problems, away from all of the other people that would pass judgement on us... i just want to load up my car and drive away "off into the sunset" with Him at my side, MCR blaring...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-89166519337011983?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/89166519337011983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=89166519337011983&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/89166519337011983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/89166519337011983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-sad.html' title='i&apos;m sad'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5069682540846166905</id><published>2007-12-26T16:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T17:33:50.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's going on...</title><content type='html'>What's going on with me? What's going on in my life that makes me text Him in a desperate attempt to try and get everything straightened out.  Why can't I know what's the matter, yet I know in the pit of my stomach that something... no... Everything is going wrong...  I feel like I'm losing control over my life... and it makes me feel horrid... I hate it when I can't take control and make everything better.  I just want to curl up into a little ball, or drive off into the night, and forget about every single bad thing that's going on in my life... I just hate this... if i keep typing... i'm just gonna end up repeating the same stuff again and again... so... i just feel like i'm out of control and i want to just get out of all of my trouble...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5069682540846166905?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5069682540846166905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5069682540846166905&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5069682540846166905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5069682540846166905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/whats-going-on.html' title='What&apos;s going on...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2432471816054212137</id><published>2007-12-25T23:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T23:51:59.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Christmas&lt;br /&gt;A time to be thankfull that a bastard child was born.  A time to think that we're special... A time to be nice to everyone... A time to act like everything in the world is fine, even if it's not... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so... over the past few days i haven't really done anything... oh... but i did tell my mum about my suicidal thoughts, and she didn't do shit about it... just like i knew she'd do... she was concerned for about 5 minutes... and then just dismissed it like it never happened... and then in my stocking this morning... she gave me a POCKET KNIFE!!!&lt;br /&gt;how stupid do you have to be to give someone who you know to be suicidal a knife... that's small enough to be snuck anywhere?... pretty damn stupid...  &lt;br /&gt;anyway... after that i got a car, and all was forgiven... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... back to the x-mas thing... why do people feel that this "is the most wonderfull time of the year"?... there are more deaths, suicides, and crashes than any other time of the year... and it's a completly commercialized holiday now... i find it very sad that people don't have to go to work, so they can spend all day sitting on their asses, surrounded by their SHIT that they got in their stockings that morning... or that "santa" gave them... i think that the world needs to have a year without gifts, and just remember that this time of year is to celebrate Christ coming to earth... It's a time of year where we sould humble ourselves, not raise ourselves up on a pedistle of gifts that we're going to eventually throw away, re-gift, or lose, then throw out... i guess all of my holiday cheer is gone... with the fact that i'm  officially depressed... and no one cares, except for Matt... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2432471816054212137?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2432471816054212137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2432471816054212137&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2432471816054212137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2432471816054212137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-atime-to-be-thankfull-that.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3331762506537469580</id><published>2007-12-20T19:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T19:39:40.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>IDIOT!</title><content type='html'>i feel like such an idiot... Jeff and i talked all day... and i blew off Matt... not on purpose, but i did... anyway... after talking to Matt on the phone around 5:15... my night got a little worse because he was being an insensitive ass... anyway... after telling Jeff... and him making me feel better, and telling Matt that i didn't want to talk to him any more tonight because he had a bad day, and was taking it out on me... anyway... after Jeff made me feel better... and he gets off for the night, he goes onto his blog, and wrote out the story of Cain and Abel... at the end of it... he wrote that he didn't care about me, and that he didn't want anything to do with me again... so... i texted him... and we got into this "fight" and he said that because he didn't want to make things worse, but now he sees that he doesn't give a fuck about me... then i told him that he made my day go nicely, and he turns around and gives me the "taking candy from a baby" bit... and says that he won't reply to any of my texts, or anything... so i don't know where we're going to be in a few weeks... but Matt's right... we're being like a yoyo... going up and down with our Talking/not talking modes... i guess that i really just can't do this anymore... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3331762506537469580?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3331762506537469580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3331762506537469580&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3331762506537469580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3331762506537469580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/idiot.html' title='IDIOT!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4896988254504675381</id><published>2007-12-17T18:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T18:41:41.674-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Toxic Kiss Reply</title><content type='html'>Reading Toxic Kiss&lt;br /&gt;It made me realize&lt;br /&gt;that as i may be dead&lt;br /&gt;i'm still human in his eyes&lt;br /&gt;he might still care,&lt;br /&gt;but never how he did before&lt;br /&gt;Matt is really pissed&lt;br /&gt;because we're just knocking on the same door&lt;br /&gt;knocking on the door, &lt;br /&gt;that leads straight to hell&lt;br /&gt;into my personal cirle&lt;br /&gt;to that place that dries the well&lt;br /&gt;it comes up hard, and fast&lt;br /&gt;then goes away just as quick&lt;br /&gt;today i think i felt my heart break&lt;br /&gt;and i really hated it&lt;br /&gt;the stabbing that i felt&lt;br /&gt;in my inner chest&lt;br /&gt;was really scaring me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it scared me because&lt;br /&gt;i thought it would break all together&lt;br /&gt;and to put it back, would be hell&lt;br /&gt;and i'm not sure i'm ready for that again... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4896988254504675381?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4896988254504675381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4896988254504675381&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4896988254504675381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4896988254504675381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/toxic-kiss-reply.html' title='Toxic Kiss Reply'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1639354166408648058</id><published>2007-12-16T22:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T22:55:03.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate This</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R2XvZTaHtQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/dcuUTK3brN0/s1600-h/dead____by_DuendeGotico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R2XvZTaHtQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/dcuUTK3brN0/s320/dead____by_DuendeGotico.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144781367326258434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how i feel my relationship with 'Him' is...&lt;br /&gt;it used to be something beautiful, and something that some people envied... our friendship was important to me... but now... it's dead... and is just another thing that has died in my life... nothing will ever go right for me... I feel like I'm destined to live my life without feeling like the world revolves around me... i feel like whenever i get close enough to feel me doing that to my self, or to someone else... i do something stupid that completely shoots me far out to left field... it's just like i can't be what people expect from me... and as much as i don't want to... i always end up hurting those around me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe I'm just better off not living, not breathing, not taking up space... it makes the most sense... i would have killed myself a log time ago... if it weren't for Matt... he loves me, and i love him... he's the only thing that's going right in my life these days... He isn't talking to me, but i still can't help feeling completely safe between the two of them... i know that he would probably screw me over like i have done to him so many times before, but i still trust him with my life... why do people do that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people trust those who can probably hurt them the most?  i mean... why do i still love Him... when i know that i shouldn't... why does my heart break every time that i see Him laugh, or even crack a genuine smile... why do i obsess about that dream that i had? and keep having... ya... i dreamt it again last night... i just chose not to tell Matt... because he doesn't like me talking about Him... i still love Him... but it's just as a friend... i know that I've said that about Matt... but i did some real soul searching today... and I realized something... I can't help how i feel... these 2 guys both have rooms in my heart... it just happens that Matt has a more lavish room, but Jeff is comfortable in his room too... i don't know... i guess i should get to sleep... because as it nears 11 o'clock at night, i find myself hoping that i have skool tomorrow... whatever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1639354166408648058?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1639354166408648058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1639354166408648058&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1639354166408648058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1639354166408648058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-hate-this.html' title='I Hate This'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R2XvZTaHtQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/dcuUTK3brN0/s72-c/dead____by_DuendeGotico.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4534840877763447575</id><published>2007-12-16T09:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T09:42:24.274-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bordom sinks in</title><content type='html'>i don't know what to do with myself these days... i feel like nothing is going right, except Matt... other than him... everything in my life is hell.  Jeff won't talk to me, in fact he's not even reading this any more... and my parents are being total asswipes... i just can't stand anyone any more... most weekends i stay in my room, and surf the internet, but when my stepdad unplugged the internet the other night... i ihad nothing else to do... so i went to bed... without dinner... i really just want something to happen... anything besides a fight with my parents... but it's not like amything like that is going to happen... i just really hope that we have skool tomorrow... because i really just want everything to go back to normal... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean it... i'm so bored that i've spent all of my time on familyguynow.com... now i'm not saying that it's a bad thing that i'm catching up on my Peter Griffin... but i really just want to do something with a bit of substance... it was either that ot Scrubs... but i watched that yesterday... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it gets me thinking about what we talked about in Wellness the other day... about suicidal people going through with it because they are bored... but i think it's just because we're all fucked up in the head... my gram's bi-polar... doesn't that shit like skip a generation?? cuz that would explain a lot... oh well... i guess i should just go back to my watching T.V. on the net... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4534840877763447575?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4534840877763447575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4534840877763447575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4534840877763447575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4534840877763447575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/bordom-sinks-in.html' title='Bordom sinks in'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8553368043903047082</id><published>2007-12-14T16:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T16:00:11.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>Feeling my man's warmpth against my skin&lt;br /&gt;is the best feeling i've had since 'him'...&lt;br /&gt;to feel his love, through my clothes,&lt;br /&gt;makes me shiver from my head to my toes&lt;br /&gt;i can't help it, because i know&lt;br /&gt;that in the morning he'll be there to hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smelling his scent, it makes me high&lt;br /&gt;one sniff, and i know that i can fly&lt;br /&gt;i can fly without fear of falling&lt;br /&gt;because he'll be there calling&lt;br /&gt;to make sure i'm safe, and hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;and to love me every single night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing his face, makes me blush&lt;br /&gt;my body gets warmer, all in one big rush&lt;br /&gt;i feel the heat, of his loving gaze&lt;br /&gt;it makes me feel like i'm the goal of a maze&lt;br /&gt;my lip curls my mouth, and a smile goes on&lt;br /&gt;but i can't help it, i'm madly in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8553368043903047082?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8553368043903047082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8553368043903047082&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8553368043903047082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8553368043903047082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8057910036791220574</id><published>2007-12-12T21:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T21:18:18.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicide Pt. 2</title><content type='html'>I can't stand it&lt;br /&gt;the voices going through my head&lt;br /&gt;they're teling me that i'm worthless&lt;br /&gt;that i'm better off to be dead.&lt;br /&gt;These voices are unmistkably&lt;br /&gt;telling me to die.&lt;br /&gt;When I tell him these things,&lt;br /&gt;all he can say is why?&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want to tell him,&lt;br /&gt;that i've been thinking these thoughts for years&lt;br /&gt;To see that look in his eye,&lt;br /&gt;it breaks my heart inside, i know&lt;br /&gt;but for me to let him in,&lt;br /&gt;is just as hard as letting him go.&lt;br /&gt;Keep dreaming of going away,&lt;br /&gt;forever leaving this place.&lt;br /&gt;to get away from every cliche, &lt;br /&gt;and these reoccurring pains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people see that i'm not myself&lt;br /&gt;i shrug it off, and say that i'm just tired&lt;br /&gt;but everyone knows that i'm just killing myself&lt;br /&gt;slowly, from the inside, i feel my body giving up&lt;br /&gt;and my head, heart and soul are following close&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what else to do, &lt;br /&gt;other than shut them out so they won't die too&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the pills in the closet calling to me,&lt;br /&gt;and the scarf in my room taunting my neck.&lt;br /&gt;The problem with feeling like this, &lt;br /&gt;and knowing that dad did the same,&lt;br /&gt;is that you're more ready to do it&lt;br /&gt;and it seems more sane.&lt;br /&gt;Than taking a gun and making a mess, &lt;br /&gt;for some soul to have to pick up.&lt;br /&gt;It's just a mess, that you're not worth, &lt;br /&gt;so just slipping away is a lot better for everyone&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;a single tear rolls down my cheek, &lt;br /&gt;as i say goodbye to everyone i love&lt;br /&gt;my future looks so bleak&lt;br /&gt;i tell him it'll never happen again&lt;br /&gt;but i' know that i'll be back here next week&lt;br /&gt;so i'll say goodbye now&lt;br /&gt;to the people i've loved&lt;br /&gt;so that when i'm in heaven&lt;br /&gt;they know that it's them that i'm thinking of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8057910036791220574?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8057910036791220574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8057910036791220574&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8057910036791220574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8057910036791220574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/suicide-pt-2.html' title='Suicide Pt. 2'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-6833481320362175131</id><published>2007-12-11T21:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T21:28:20.489-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicide</title><content type='html'>The blood running down my leg,&lt;br /&gt;rubies melting into my skin.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about how to die&lt;br /&gt;suicide becoming more and more therein.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing myself hanging, or collapsed apon the floor&lt;br /&gt;he doesn't like me thinking it&lt;br /&gt;but living seems like a chore.&lt;br /&gt;I can't see the sense in living any more&lt;br /&gt;whenever i try i always screw up.&lt;br /&gt;I'm dying, i can feel it&lt;br /&gt;i'm not just "in a rut" &lt;br /&gt;my soul is giving up&lt;br /&gt;and my body is starting too...&lt;br /&gt;These aren't normal thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;well... maybe they are, to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-6833481320362175131?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6833481320362175131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=6833481320362175131&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6833481320362175131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6833481320362175131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/suicide.html' title='Suicide'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1970547594834842600</id><published>2007-12-11T20:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T20:50:09.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistakes</title><content type='html'>getting a thought out of your head is hard, especially when it's about someone who will never be ther for you again... no matter how hard you want them to be there... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had thoughts about my dream all today... and i'm just not sure that i can say goodbye yet... every sorner that i turn... i still remember things that we did... i can see the shadow of him and me, just hanging out, laughing... not even when we were together... just when we were friends... i miss just talking to him about A7X, and stupid Family Guy quotes... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want us to be able to talk... but i guess that that's never going to happen... seeing as how i've completly screwed him over 3 times... and you know what the saying is... "Screw me once, shame on me; Screw me twice, shame on you; Screw me three times, shame on you again..." and i've done that... so i guess that you can blame me for everything... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even how there is no oxygen in outer space... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't stand seeing him every day... but i guess that it's my torture for hurting someone that i really thought that i was great friends with... why am i even here, if i just keep hurting all of those around me... and i keep letting down those who build me up to be more than something that i am... i really just can't keep on going on like this... knowing that with every move that i take... it's the wrong one... and that i can never make things right... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1970547594834842600?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1970547594834842600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1970547594834842600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1970547594834842600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1970547594834842600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/getting-thought-out-of-your-head-is.html' title='Mistakes'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1197359654061010652</id><published>2007-12-09T11:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T11:44:12.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Dreams Mean Anything?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1wV4iKo_lI/AAAAAAAAAAg/V0wuJyH1rrY/s1600-h/a_phone____by_Gazo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1wV4iKo_lI/AAAAAAAAAAg/V0wuJyH1rrY/s320/a_phone____by_Gazo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142008935538556498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok... soo... when i woke up this morning i had just woken up from a weird dream... but the end of it was the freakiest part... at the end of the dream... i handed a little girl my cell... and right as i did that... my phone started to ring... and when she opened my phone and started to talk... i could hear who it was... and it was Jeff... and the scariest part about that was in my dream... i had been repeating 7 numbers over and over... and at that moment i figured out that they were his cell phone #... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the little girl was talking to Jeff... i looked at the girl... and realized that she was me... she was me before anything bad ever happened... she was the me that I've been trying to find... and there she was, plain as day, talking to him... i couldn't hear the conversation on both ends... but it sounded from her side, that he liked talking to her... and that she was happy to finally meet him... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then i woke up before the call ended... and my laptop was there... so i went online and the first place that i went was to his blog... i doubted that he'd posted anything... but he had... and when i read it... it helped... i don't know why, it just really helped calm my fears that something bad was going to happen... i don't know what it really says about me... but maybe you'll be able to tell me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1197359654061010652?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1197359654061010652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1197359654061010652&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1197359654061010652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1197359654061010652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/do-dreams-mean-anything.html' title='Do Dreams Mean Anything?'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1wV4iKo_lI/AAAAAAAAAAg/V0wuJyH1rrY/s72-c/a_phone____by_Gazo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8391746037170680421</id><published>2007-12-08T15:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T16:04:01.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends...</title><content type='html'>I have no idea what's going on in my life... &lt;br /&gt;I feel like I need to get away...&lt;br /&gt;Go away, and never look back on the faces I once knew...&lt;br /&gt;Or at the love I once shared...&lt;br /&gt;To get away is my one reason to live...&lt;br /&gt;and to run away with him... &lt;br /&gt;to leave everything that we know behind...&lt;br /&gt;and just ride with the moon as our wings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where we'll go... &lt;br /&gt;or what we'll do there...&lt;br /&gt;but as long as I'm with him...&lt;br /&gt;I will never care...&lt;br /&gt;I miss him from the moment he's gone...&lt;br /&gt;till the second I see him again...&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'd do...&lt;br /&gt;Without my rock, my savior, my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really just felt like writing something... and i really don't know who it's directed at... but if you think about it... it could be directed towards Matt, which is the obvious one, God... with that savior line... or towards Jeff... because as much as we might not be talking... i still feel like if i was in trouble, and it was just me and him... i still feel like he would help me... at least i hope he would... but if he wouldn't... i understand... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what to say to him these days... because as soon as i try and be nice... he lashes out, and he may not realize it... but he hurt me Friday... with just 4 little words... he ruined my entire day... i know that he may not have seen it... or if he really cares... but i had tears in my eyes... because i still want his friendship... but i know that we can never be friends like we were before... not without a lot of "counseling" and talks about what the other really, and truly wants... whether it's best for the other or not... i guess that's why I still have his blog bookmarked... so that if he writes something... i can read it... and hopefully get what he wants me to do about it... if anything... i guess i'm just having a hard time letting go of one of the people that i really and truly do still trust with my life... let him do what he wants with it... because i'm about ready to give up and say hello to Daddy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8391746037170680421?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8391746037170680421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8391746037170680421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8391746037170680421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8391746037170680421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/friends.html' title='Friends...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8289218971753609014</id><published>2007-12-06T16:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T16:13:15.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sorry</title><content type='html'>blood running down my leg&lt;br /&gt;the wound is open, raw, and fresh.&lt;br /&gt;how the cut is raised when it's new. &lt;br /&gt;it feels good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not caring if i ever see light of day&lt;br /&gt;or see my love again&lt;br /&gt;just want to escape from here, &lt;br /&gt;and never feel pain again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not sure how it started, &lt;br /&gt;but i really love the thrill&lt;br /&gt;having him go away hurts more,&lt;br /&gt;but i just want to forget.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;want to forget all the pain from before,&lt;br /&gt;and focus on my leg&lt;br /&gt;my shoulder will also bleed tonight...&lt;br /&gt;but that's another tale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that i've hurt you... but i never meant to call you a toxic friend... i meant that our friendship was toxic... and it was us... we were toxic to each other... and only when we were in any type of relationship... you aren't a toxic friend to anyone but me... but i know that that's not true for myeslf... it seems like wherever i go, i always end up hurting people that are near and dear to me... i wish that this wasn't the only way that we could  communicate... but it hurts too much any other way... i'm sorry for that mistake, but mostly... i'm sorry that you hurt yourself because of something that i wrote&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8289218971753609014?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8289218971753609014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8289218971753609014&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8289218971753609014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8289218971753609014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-sorry.html' title='I&amp;#39;m Sorry'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1502809468276256918</id><published>2007-12-04T22:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T15:51:12.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we're done!</title><content type='html'>ya... Jeff and i are no longer talking... and i am actually OK with it... i mean... I'm still going to check his blog... but that's all... no more scathing e-mails, no more hate-filled texts, and no more of this "this is the last time I'm going to contact you" crap.... i really think that I'm going to be OK with this... I was talking to Abby about him earlier in the day... and she agrees with me that he really just is toxic... i know that I'm a toxic friend to him too... so our friendship can never work... no matter how hard we try... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;strangely enough... i did one of those stupid "Chinese proverb" bulletins that choke the board on myspace... and it told me to think of 2 people's names, and put them in 2 different spots... i chose Matt and Jeff... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the funny thing is that it said that Matt was the person that i love... and it said that Jeff was the person that i wanted to be friends with/have a relationship with, but it cannot work... if you ask me... that hits the nail on the head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I've finally found people that really truly care about me... and i guess that I've never had that before... i mean... the friends that i had in middle skool were nice... but as soon as one of us said something that the others didn't like... we'd get into a big fight and not talk for weeks... and then we'd get sick of it, and all of a sudden start talking again... I'm still friends with only 1 of those girls... and we still don't talk that much... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i decided to go to the "different skool" than everyone else... i was happy to get away... but i was also scared... I'd moved a lot before... so i knew all too well what it felt like to  be the new kid on campus... but i was totally stretching my boundaries... I'd never met any of these people... and i went from a skool where everyone knew everyone... and every one's business... to just being another face in the wave of freshman... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got lose really fast, and then i found Matt and Ethan... and it was nice... they spent lunch with me, outside our homeroom... and it was nice to have 2 guys all to myself... and now that i spend more time looking back on that fateful day... i remember that Matt tried to put his arm around me... but i flinched away... because i was wearing my demon brace... and i really didn't feel pretty... but Matt and Ethan carrying me down the hallway... and me blowing a kiss to Ethan, and then kissing Matt on the cheek... i guess that i never even connected those things... whatever... I'm happy with Matt... and without Jeff... and i hope that it stays like that for a while... Tracy and i were also talking about that for a couple minutes today... and she said that we're probably going to work this out, and this time next year... we'll be great friends again... but i really don't care... whatever happens does... I'll just go with the flow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1502809468276256918?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1502809468276256918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1502809468276256918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1502809468276256918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1502809468276256918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/were-done.html' title='we&apos;re done!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-405012379733459625</id><published>2007-12-01T17:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:03:56.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hide Behind The Flame</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1HmVSKo_kI/AAAAAAAAAAU/tg1MLoIgA3U/s1600-R/Burning_endlessly_by_AquaSixio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1HmVSKo_kI/AAAAAAAAAAU/4wkdf3PeOIQ/s320/Burning_endlessly_by_AquaSixio.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139141903134555714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I saw this picture, I had to write this post.  The little girl in this picture, is me... I know... I've never seemed that innocent... but at one time I was... a long time ago, before I met any of the people that i know now, and before my world came crashing down.  The flames are all of my problems... and the little girl is just sitting there with this expression on her face like she has no idea what to think of all of it... that's how i was... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was too shocked to be able to take everything in... so Annabelle showed up (the thing on her knee) and took care of the little girl in me, and she's bee there fighting off the flames for as long as i can remember... but I'm realizing that I've got to push Annabelle away, and try and survive in the flames as myself... if i die, so be it, but i might live... and that's the tiny hope that I'm doing this for... I'm trying to push her away for the tiniest hope that I'll make it out of this fire alive... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that this probably doesn't mean anything to anyone else... but him leaving tore me apart in ways that no one will ever know... and i think that i've finally got all of the pieces back... so now i've got to start piecing them back together till i find the real me that i lost so long ago...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-405012379733459625?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/405012379733459625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=405012379733459625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/405012379733459625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/405012379733459625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/12/hide-behind-flame.html' title='Hide Behind The Flame'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/R1HmVSKo_kI/AAAAAAAAAAU/4wkdf3PeOIQ/s72-c/Burning_endlessly_by_AquaSixio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-775265436139948310</id><published>2007-11-30T15:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T17:27:31.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Warmness of the Soul Pt. 2</title><content type='html'>Everyone knows me as Courtney, but it's Annabelle's personality that everyone knows... They know the "whore down the hall" and she's loving the attention that she gets, but now Courtney is showing up... the real me is afraid of the eyes... except when she is on stage... That is the only real time that I'm completely myself... is when I'm on that stage... and I'm either working, acting, or just building a set... I am always Courtney on stage... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annabelle doesn't like that type of eyes looking at her... analyzing her every move... thinking about why she's doing what she's doing... Annabelle lives for the "shock factor", the "drama" if you will... She's the one that keeps on making drama in her life... she's the one that I'm trying to stifle... the one that I'm trying to make go away... but she's just like my headaches... she might go away for a little bit, but eventually she's gonna show up again... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember when Annabelle started taking control... it was when i went back to skool after my daddy went away... i needed to "be happy" and no one would let Courtney just be alone... I don't remember the exact moment when i thought of Annabelle, but i do remember the stuff that she's done... but that's a whole other post... if you want to know... you can e-mail me... or even better text... Until another ride home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-775265436139948310?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/775265436139948310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=775265436139948310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/775265436139948310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/775265436139948310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/warmness-of-soul-pt-2.html' title='Warmness of the Soul Pt. 2'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8550439620826712181</id><published>2007-11-30T15:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T15:25:59.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Warmness of the Soul</title><content type='html'>i feel like whenever i want to talk... it's tabboo... why can i never talk about you without feeling like i'm cheating? I'm not, and i don't want you as any more than a friend... but it feels like i'm looked at with pins and daggars whenever i mention your name in a conversation... whoever it's with... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone knows my reputation, and they have a right... but it's the judging that i can't stand, and the pointing and names that i know that they call me behind my back... Whore. Slut. Cheap Bitch.  The names that they call me are endless, but that's just how people see me... they see a girl who flip-flops between 2 guys, and who is open with her sexuality... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see a troubled, torn, and confused little girl hiding behind a mask...&lt;br /&gt;A little girl who has learned that the world is mean, unfair, and downright cruel to people who show their emotions, and share them all openly and honestly... I'm the little girl who hides because she doesn't know how to act like the other people... but my Annabelle does...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annabelle's not an alter-ego that i've been living behind... she's not another voice in my head... she is the essence of what i want to be... She is who i become when i'm in the heat of the moment... when she flirts with guys, or cusses out a teacher... Courtney hides, and Annabelle comes out... ready for anything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only time when Annabelle isn't there, is when Matt is there, and they're alone... just being with him makes Annabelle hide... and let's the real me come out again... under the protection of Matt, Courtney isn't afraid to come out of hiding... but most of my life has been seen through Annabele's eyes for over 8 years... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When daddy went away forever, Annabelle showed up because mommy said to cheer up... Courtney hid... and now she's just figuring out the rules of this new game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8550439620826712181?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8550439620826712181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8550439620826712181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8550439620826712181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8550439620826712181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/warmness-of-soul.html' title='Warmness of the Soul'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3496248364033838475</id><published>2007-11-30T06:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T06:56:15.511-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Matt</title><content type='html'>I'm in love with him&lt;br /&gt;i can't think of any other thing&lt;br /&gt;when i see him&lt;br /&gt;my heart grows wings&lt;br /&gt;my knees turn to butter, &lt;br /&gt;and i collapse into his arms&lt;br /&gt;the smell of him... really turns me on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i see that he's online, &lt;br /&gt;i constantly reload the page&lt;br /&gt;knowing that i'm the first one,&lt;br /&gt;that he will message.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing that he's replied, makes me all giddy&lt;br /&gt;and every time that he says "i love you"&lt;br /&gt;makes me feel like it's spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what i'd do without him now&lt;br /&gt;i'm just trying to move away&lt;br /&gt;from the "bad influences" in my life&lt;br /&gt;but it's just so easy to go astray&lt;br /&gt;knowing that he's trying to save my life&lt;br /&gt;but him saying that it's ok&lt;br /&gt;only makes things worse some times&lt;br /&gt;it's a never ending curse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i never want to lose him&lt;br /&gt;i would go "crazy in my head."&lt;br /&gt;i think that's from Legally Blonde, &lt;br /&gt;but tonight i don't care...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3496248364033838475?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3496248364033838475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3496248364033838475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3496248364033838475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3496248364033838475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-love-matt.html' title='I Love Matt'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7743679160088491463</id><published>2007-11-29T15:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T15:16:06.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To My Editor 2</title><content type='html'>You say that you're never going to hurt yourself... i believe you... but what i can't promise is that i'll never hurt myself... my leg still hurts form my last cutting... and the blood is still fresh... you say that i'm being jeckyl and hyde... i'm gonna clear this up... i DON'T want you out of my life, but you said that you needed me out of yours... so i'm working on letting you out of my life... i know that it's a hopeless case, because you already have a room in my heart... so all i can say is goodbye, and hope that i won't do anything stupid... i do care about you... and i can't help it... you're like the scars and fresh cuts on my leg... it'll take a while for you to be gone... out of my life... but every time you say something to me... it gives me a hope that you want to talk... i am TRYING to let you live your life without me... and i haven't really made any contact with you at skool... or e-mailing... i still text you because it's the fastest way to contact you... I'm sorry that my last post made you cut again... for the last time... I really just don't get you some times... i want you out of my life... but i can't get you out of my head... i'm sorry if you didn't want to hear this... and i'm sorry that you thought that i was trying to hurt you... i was VERY mad when i wrote that last post... and i cut after i posted it... should i delete it??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Griffin: "Holy Crip he's a Crapple!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7743679160088491463?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7743679160088491463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7743679160088491463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7743679160088491463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7743679160088491463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/to-my-editor-2.html' title='To My Editor 2'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8559897421858288282</id><published>2007-11-27T23:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T23:02:41.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parting words</title><content type='html'>I read what you said&lt;br /&gt;i took it to heart&lt;br /&gt;i'm out of your life now&lt;br /&gt;and i'm fine with part&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what else to say&lt;br /&gt;other than i'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm just a pain&lt;br /&gt;so why do i do this to you&lt;br /&gt;i guess i just wanted things &lt;br /&gt;to be like they were before&lt;br /&gt;before we were at each other's necks&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry about hurting you&lt;br /&gt;but i guess i don't care any more&lt;br /&gt;whatever, i'm gone&lt;br /&gt;goodbye forever now&lt;br /&gt;i doubt that you're reading this&lt;br /&gt;i just felt it needed to be said...&lt;br /&gt;i'll "get the fuck out of your life",&lt;br /&gt;and you can do the same with me...&lt;br /&gt;i don't care at all anymore...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8559897421858288282?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8559897421858288282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8559897421858288282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8559897421858288282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8559897421858288282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/parting-words.html' title='Parting words'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8025790374343651457</id><published>2007-11-23T23:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T23:40:32.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My name is Jeff, and everything is falling apart around me because my dad is a pompus jerk, and the one person that i loved has been gone for 3 1/2 years... boo fucking hoo... try living with the giult that your father killed himself when you were 8 because you think that you did something wrong!!! try living with the fact that your own father didn't love you enough to say goodbye, and that he'd see you later... try thinking for one second that people have more miserable lives that you do... YOU STILL HAVE 2 PARENTS, AND A SISTER THAT LOVE YOU... no matter what you say... or what they do... they love you Jeff... just like i do... well... not like i do... but they do love you... you have a good comfortable life... you're doing good in skool... you have a god friend that you spend all of your time with... and you have people that care about you... i'm not saying that my life is worse... i'm just saying that you need to stop being a damn Drama King and own up to being selfish... i kknow that not everything is about me... but you still think that everybody's lives revolve around you...  i DO CARE ABOUT YOU A LOT... but when you continue to say shit like you've been posting... i don't know what to believe... you worry me... and i'm typing ths soooo fast... i'm jittery... i can't stand what a melancholy Drama King you've become... you used to want to be on the stage... pretending to be Sweeney... but you've crossed the line... and have become Sweeney... well... i'm sick of it... i'm still going to call you... and i don't care if i woke you up... because i fucking want to tell you that your life isn't as bad as you think it is... you still have people that care about you... and your self- pity has to stop if you're going to get any real pity, or even some ficking help from people who care about you... but you're too much like your father to even realize that when you're looking at the Grimmerie with her, that i'm looking at you... and i'm trying to hold back tears because i can't stand you and her sharing something that we shared, and that was special... whatever.. i know that you've read this... but you probably haven't even started to get how much this really means to me... i care about you... i just don't want to see you go... not yet... i want to see you Monday... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8025790374343651457?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8025790374343651457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8025790374343651457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8025790374343651457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8025790374343651457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-name-is-jeff-and-everything-is.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5048368754606694871</id><published>2007-11-23T12:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T19:55:15.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Real</title><content type='html'>OK... I've been posting a lot of song lyrics.. and i just want people to know that i wrote those songs a while ago... my most recent stuff is stuff that i haven't posted yet... so none of my problems are in those songs... well... they are... but it's not on purpose... anyway... i still am checking Jeff's blog daily, and so I'm just hoping that he's doing the same with me... because as much as I'm gonna try and block him out of my life... i still care, and will always check his blog... I doubt that he's reading this... so i don't know why i even try... i mean i tried to be his friend again... and i thought that we were headed on that track, but then he goes with that "needing time to think" and then starts completely ignoring me... and i just can't stand it... so I'm doing something new... with every picture that i print and put in his locker, I'm going to leave a bit of my feelings for him with it... It'll take  while... but it's the only way that i can think of to get him out of my system... I'm like an addict... i need to detox... but slowly so i don't end up hurting myself... i guess that's all... i thought i'd post something real... something other than lyrics... something other than crap...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5048368754606694871?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5048368754606694871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5048368754606694871&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5048368754606694871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5048368754606694871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/ok.html' title='Something Real'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4689418619190379124</id><published>2007-11-22T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T12:59:09.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Lyrics</title><content type='html'>You walked out&lt;br /&gt;and for a little while i was fine&lt;br /&gt;but now i need, &lt;br /&gt;you to be here by my side&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that little girl i was a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;I'm growing up so fast now, &lt;br /&gt;but i guess you already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it up in heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Is it what you wanted to be?&lt;br /&gt;Are there angels everywhere?&lt;br /&gt;How is the family?&lt;br /&gt;You don't know what you're missin' down here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;But we all miss you, Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Why did you go first?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to make sure&lt;br /&gt;I'm always actin' right&lt;br /&gt;But nowadays it's harder&lt;br /&gt;the boys are in my life.&lt;br /&gt;There's one i think i love&lt;br /&gt;and i wish that you could meet.&lt;br /&gt;I really think that he's the one&lt;br /&gt;to take care of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it up in heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Is it what you wanted to be?&lt;br /&gt;Are there angels everywhere?&lt;br /&gt;How is the family?&lt;br /&gt;You don't know what you're missin' down here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;But we all miss you, Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Why did you go first?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4689418619190379124?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4689418619190379124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4689418619190379124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4689418619190379124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4689418619190379124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/first.html' title='First Lyrics'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4683374444996278605</id><published>2007-11-22T21:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T12:58:50.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Lyrics</title><content type='html'>No one understands me&lt;br /&gt;feel like i'm alone&lt;br /&gt;think i'm gonna go crazy &lt;br /&gt;if i can't find a home&lt;br /&gt;a place to have my thoughts be&lt;br /&gt;and write all day in my bed&lt;br /&gt;just want a place where i can lay my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go crazy, terminally mad&lt;br /&gt;crazy, please don't look so glad&lt;br /&gt;cuz you interrupted me, and yes i'm still a girl&lt;br /&gt;Crazy, and i won't say a word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lock me up, cuz i'm a threat to myself and others&lt;br /&gt;i'm glad that you can call yourself my brothers.&lt;br /&gt;Please look over me and help me to do right&lt;br /&gt;maybe in the morning i will see the light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go crazy, terminally mad&lt;br /&gt;crazy, please don't look so glad&lt;br /&gt;cuz you interrupted me, and yes i'm still a girl&lt;br /&gt;Crazy, and i won't say a word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've silenced me for a long time&lt;br /&gt;But now it's my time to stand out!&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna turn my act around, &lt;br /&gt;It's all about being devout&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go crazy, terminally mad&lt;br /&gt;crazy, please don't look so glad&lt;br /&gt;cuz you interrupted me, and yes i'm still a girl&lt;br /&gt;Crazy, and i won't say a word...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4683374444996278605?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4683374444996278605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4683374444996278605&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4683374444996278605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4683374444996278605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/crazy.html' title='Crazy Lyrics'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3357704642273060439</id><published>2007-11-21T12:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T12:23:10.685-05:00</updated><title type='text'>if you have a name idea... e-mail me</title><content type='html'>You never label me, or turn me into something that i'm not.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a beautiful girl, not something to mindlessly gawk at.&lt;br /&gt;Whoever said a picture's worth a thousand words...&lt;br /&gt;well they knew what they were talking about.&lt;br /&gt;I'm deep and in some spots you can see where i've been cut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut open by heart break, and stiched together again.&lt;br /&gt;i keep going in circles between love and pain,&lt;br /&gt;but now i know you're the one who will keep me out of the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i feel you in my soul, butterflies show up&lt;br /&gt;my foot goes in my mouth, and others tell me to shut up&lt;br /&gt;but they will never silence me from speaking &lt;br /&gt;about you because i know that your voice is the voice of truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut open by heart break, and stiched together again.&lt;br /&gt;i keep going in circles between love and pain,&lt;br /&gt;but now i know you're the one who will keep me out of the rain.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3357704642273060439?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3357704642273060439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3357704642273060439&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3357704642273060439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3357704642273060439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/if-you-have-name-idea-e-mail-me.html' title='if you have a name idea... e-mail me'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-953505215627525844</id><published>2007-11-21T12:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T12:20:55.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Depression Lyrics</title><content type='html'>Felling so lost and misunderstood. &lt;br /&gt;I wish you knew how you pulled off your look.&lt;br /&gt;You are always smiles, and never frowns.&lt;br /&gt;I wish your sadness would come around.&lt;br /&gt;Everything's so peachy, and everything's right and keen.&lt;br /&gt;Who are you really? What isn't seen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hide behind you mask all day, never letting anyone in.&lt;br /&gt;You pretend to be happy when you're really hurtin'.  &lt;br /&gt;No one else can see inside, but you let me see the real you.&lt;br /&gt;it's tragic, and bottling it up isn't good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your mind thinks that you're ill, when really you're fine.&lt;br /&gt;It backs you into a wall and uses your body as a shrine.&lt;br /&gt;It uses your body to raise itself up, while you are feeling down in the dumps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hide behind you mask all day, never letting anyone in.&lt;br /&gt;You pretend to be happy when you're really hurtin'.  &lt;br /&gt;No one else can see inside, but you let me see the real you.&lt;br /&gt;it's tragic, and bottling it up isn't good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurting yourself and those around you.&lt;br /&gt;You're hoping that your dream will come true&lt;br /&gt;But you don't know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hide behind you mask all day, never letting anyone in.&lt;br /&gt;You pretend to be happy when you're really hurtin'.  &lt;br /&gt;No one else can see inside, but you let me see the real you.&lt;br /&gt;it's tragic, and bottling it up isn't good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-953505215627525844?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/953505215627525844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=953505215627525844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/953505215627525844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/953505215627525844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/depression-lyrics.html' title='Depression Lyrics'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-475498852607696341</id><published>2007-11-19T16:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T17:10:33.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry... I'm so sorry</title><content type='html'>I want to say sorry&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for making you sad&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for making you worry&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for putting myself before you&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for being distant&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for disgracing you&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for making you cry&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for everything&lt;br /&gt;but most of all, I'm sorry for falling in love with you&lt;br /&gt;I know that it may be selfish, &lt;br /&gt;but all of my problems deal with love&lt;br /&gt;If i never loved you, i might have never hurt you&lt;br /&gt;if I never hurt you, you might be happier&lt;br /&gt;I might see you smiling more than worrying about me&lt;br /&gt;I might not be there, but i think i wouldn't be as sad&lt;br /&gt;I might still be lusting, &lt;br /&gt;but i wouldn't have caused you the pain that i have caused both of us&lt;br /&gt;I still would've cut, but you might never have started to worry&lt;br /&gt;if i never kissed you last year, we never would be here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but... &lt;br /&gt;If i never kissed you last year, we never would be here&lt;br /&gt;we wouldn't be dreaming about little Eli and Annabelle, and dreaming of our wedding&lt;br /&gt;we wouldn't be totally in love, and i could stop thinking about you some times,&lt;br /&gt;we wouldn't hang out like we do, and I'd be miserable in classes with you and him... &lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't know your Dad or mom, and know how loving they can be, &lt;br /&gt;and how great they are... I wouldn't know anything&lt;br /&gt;I'd still be trying to impress you in Home Room, and trying to fit in... &lt;br /&gt;I would probably get high more, and cut a hell of a lot more, &lt;br /&gt;and I'd probably not care about a lot less than i do today&lt;br /&gt;I never would've had such a great time last year on the last day of skool&lt;br /&gt;i wouldn't be planning Prom night with you&lt;br /&gt;and i wouldn't even know how great of a friend Abby is, or know Arabic...&lt;br /&gt;I'd probably have a lot more sleepless nights without Beary,&lt;br /&gt;and I'd have spent a lot less time on the phone at camp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that i did everything, but I'm not sad at the results... I'm sad with the way I'm fucking everything up... you say that I'm not a screw up... then why do i feel like that? why do i feel like nothing i can do will ever be good enough for my step-dad, and why will i always feel like my daddy went away because of something that i did??  My life is spiraling out of control to the tune of my melancholy heart, and you just aren't in the melody...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-475498852607696341?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/475498852607696341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=475498852607696341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/475498852607696341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/475498852607696341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/sorry-im-so-sorry.html' title='Sorry... I&apos;m so sorry'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5609844093677856534</id><published>2007-11-17T19:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T20:03:18.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear God... A7X Style</title><content type='html'>A lonely road, crossed another cold state line&lt;br /&gt;Miles away from those I love purpose hard to find&lt;br /&gt;While I recall all the words you spoke to me&lt;br /&gt;Can't help but wish that I was there&lt;br /&gt;Back where I'd love to be, oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God the only thing I ask of you is&lt;br /&gt;to hold her when I'm not around,&lt;br /&gt;when I'm much too far away&lt;br /&gt;We all need that person who can be true to you&lt;br /&gt;But I left her when I found her&lt;br /&gt;And now I wish I'd stayed&lt;br /&gt;’Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you again oh no&lt;br /&gt;Once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing here for me on this barren road&lt;br /&gt;There's no one here while the city sleeps&lt;br /&gt;and all the shops are closed&lt;br /&gt;Can't help but think of the times I've had with you&lt;br /&gt;Pictures and some memories will have to help me through, oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God the only thing I ask of you is&lt;br /&gt;to hold her when I'm not around,&lt;br /&gt;when I'm much too far away&lt;br /&gt;We all need that person who can be true to you&lt;br /&gt;I left her when I found her&lt;br /&gt;And now I wish I'd stayed&lt;br /&gt;’Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you again oh no&lt;br /&gt;Once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some search, never finding a way&lt;br /&gt;Before long, they waste away&lt;br /&gt;I found you, something told me to stay&lt;br /&gt;I gave in, to selfish ways&lt;br /&gt;And how I miss someone to hold&lt;br /&gt;when hope begins to fade...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lonely road, crossed another cold state line&lt;br /&gt;Miles away from those I love purpose hard to find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God the only thing I ask of you is&lt;br /&gt;to hold her when I'm not around,&lt;br /&gt;when I'm much too far away&lt;br /&gt;We all need the person who can be true to you&lt;br /&gt;I left her when I found her&lt;br /&gt;And now I wish I'd stayed&lt;br /&gt;’Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you again oh no&lt;br /&gt;Once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK... i lied about that being the last post that i was directing towards you... I was listening to my A7X artist play list and this song popped up... I couldn't help but think about what you've gone through, and how this song is totally your anthem... when you're feeling sad, and missing Ash... it made me think that because it made me think of my dad... I actually started to cry... It just really made me want to take a step back and see all of the pain that I've caused in my life to other people, and i realized that you were the person that I've seemed to hurt the most... Even though every time i said that I'd never hurt you again, i seemed to fuck every time and hurt you time after time... I guess i just wanted to get things back to the way they were the first time we dated, but with every positive step i took, i took 5 negative steps back... I guess that if i had left things how they were this year, we would've eventually become friends again, but i totally fucked up any chance of that happening... I can't get it out of my head because it's all my fault... I'm sorry... i hurt you... and I've 'punished' myself... literally and figuratively... I'm sorry i ever thought that everything cold be like it was before everything went wrong... but something went right... I NEVER meant to hurt you... i was just really confused... and in need of some drama... which i got on and off-stage... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry... I'll never bother you again... except for a glance at you when you don't think i'm looking... whatever... you didn't read this anyway probably... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5609844093677856534?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5609844093677856534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5609844093677856534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5609844093677856534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5609844093677856534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/dear-god-a7x-style.html' title='Dear God... A7X Style'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2901191434002672637</id><published>2007-11-17T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T10:45:52.944-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real You</title><content type='html'>You lose someone, halfway through your life&lt;br /&gt;you're changed forever, feels like &lt;br /&gt;nothing you do can ever make it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got to push through the cloud, &lt;br /&gt;to see the silver lining&lt;br /&gt;you've got to make your way, &lt;br /&gt;to the other side of the room.&lt;br /&gt;You've got to take a step back, &lt;br /&gt;to see what you've been missing, &lt;br /&gt;But most of all, don't lose sight, &lt;br /&gt;of the real you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look back at your life before then,and how it is today.&lt;br /&gt;What would be different, and what would stay the same&lt;br /&gt;would you have the same friends you have now&lt;br /&gt;or a totally different crew? &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to take the bad, with the good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got to push through the cloud, &lt;br /&gt;to see the silver lining&lt;br /&gt;you've got to make your way, &lt;br /&gt;to the other side of the room.&lt;br /&gt;You've got to take a step back, &lt;br /&gt;to see what you've been missing, &lt;br /&gt;But most of all, don't lose sight, &lt;br /&gt;of the real you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you lose sight&lt;br /&gt;of yourself&lt;br /&gt;you might just lose your way&lt;br /&gt;sometimes it's better&lt;br /&gt;to stay, and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got to push through the cloud, push through &lt;br /&gt;the cloud, to see that silver lining&lt;br /&gt;you've got to make your way, to the other side of the room.&lt;br /&gt;You've got to take a step back,&lt;br /&gt;to see what you've been missing, &lt;br /&gt;But most of all, don't lose sight, no don't lose sight&lt;br /&gt;but most of all don't lose sight of the real you,&lt;br /&gt;no of the real you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, you haven't heard that song before, but i know that you've read those lyrics... they're to my first real song, Real You, and every time i sing it, it makes me feel a little better... Every day you say that you're going through a struggle to get "back to before Ash" or you "just need time to think" I think that you have the right to do that, so that's why i'm not e-mailing you or texting you anymore... i only talk to you when you reach out to me first... but i wish that you'd reach out more... There are a lot of cliche sayings in this world, and the chorus of my song is one big cliche, but i find that sometimes they work... i really don't know the exact pain that you're going trough, but i guess you'll never know what i'm going through... and i guess all i can ask is that you try and help yourself to those offering help around you... good night forever, Jeff... this is the last post that i'll be writing to you specifically... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2901191434002672637?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2901191434002672637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2901191434002672637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2901191434002672637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2901191434002672637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/real-you.html' title='Real You'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3579282999732187161</id><published>2007-11-16T17:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T17:00:21.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>I can't stand the pain that i know that you're going through... you're where i was a few years ago... but i didn't know about the torture that i could've put myself through to get rid of the pain like you know about.... and like i know about now... I'm sorry about your headache, and that you think that you have discrased her... and her memory... but i think that she'd be happy with the fact that you're dealing with your pain... i wish that you hadn't burned it... i would've kept it till you wanted it back... cuz some of that stuff was REALLY good... i guess i'll never hear it now... whatever... i don't even think that you're still reading this... i just really can't stand that you're blocking me out, and all i really wanted to do was try and help you... i know what you're going through... because you let me in... i'm glad that you did... and i'm sorry if you're regretting it now... I DO care about you... but i just don't know how to show/tell you any other way... because you don't wanna have anything to do with me... i know that not everything's about me... but you really can't have your depression consume you... i know that you've probably heard all of this before, but i feel that it needs to stilll be said again... I'm sorr about how you've gotten dealt a crap hand... but you've gotta play the game through... please don't just fold and escape... I'm sorry... i don't know what else to say... I'm so sorry... i just wanna be your friend again... i hate you hating me... but i guess It's "my fault" like everything is... and yes... you can blame me for everything... even why there is no oxygen in space... I'm sorry... i fucked up... but i'm trying to fix it... don't you see that!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3579282999732187161?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3579282999732187161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3579282999732187161&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3579282999732187161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3579282999732187161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2939374637690566548</id><published>2007-11-14T17:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T17:03:23.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>W. T. F. </title><content type='html'>I don't understand what's been going on lately... one day you want to talk with me till 2 in the morning, and the next you're shutting me out and saying that you want nothing to do with me.  it just doesn't make sense.  I really was trying hard to be a good friend again, and i thought that we were going good, and were on that road again... we weren't going fast, but we were on the road, and then you just shove me off, and block me out... i don't understand why you did that... i get that you wanted time to think, but you didn't have to be so mean about it.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2939374637690566548?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2939374637690566548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2939374637690566548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2939374637690566548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2939374637690566548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/w-t-f.html' title='W. T. F. '/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8902049383286001390</id><published>2007-11-12T16:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T16:28:42.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I will wait until the end&lt;br /&gt;When the pendulum will swing back&lt;br /&gt;to the darker side of our hearts bleeding&lt;br /&gt;I will save this empty space&lt;br /&gt;next to me like its a grave&lt;br /&gt;where I lay a place for us to sleep eternally together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been&lt;br /&gt;Searching for&lt;br /&gt;Traces of&lt;br /&gt;What we were&lt;br /&gt;A ghost of you&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left of you to hold&lt;br /&gt;I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me&lt;br /&gt;and nothing left of what we were at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am pacing around this house again&lt;br /&gt;With pictures of us living on these walls&lt;br /&gt;I see my breath in the cold of the air that I breathe and I'm wondering&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering if its you that i feel if its you that i feel here haunting me forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been&lt;br /&gt;Searching for&lt;br /&gt;Traces of&lt;br /&gt;What we were&lt;br /&gt;A ghost of you&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left of you to hold&lt;br /&gt;I wake in the night to find there's no one there but me&lt;br /&gt;and nothing left of what we were at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I'm not looking for&lt;br /&gt;anything but us&lt;br /&gt;anything but what we were&lt;br /&gt;and I'm not asking for&lt;br /&gt;painted memories&lt;br /&gt;I only want to know you're here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ghost of you&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left of you to hold&lt;br /&gt;I wake in the night to find theres no one there but me&lt;br /&gt;and nothing left of what we were at all&lt;br /&gt;A ghost of you&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left&lt;br /&gt;is all that I have left of you to hold&lt;br /&gt;I wake in the night to find theres no one there but me&lt;br /&gt;and nothing left of what we were at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh... it's the only thing that I really care about any more&lt;br /&gt;I was high earlier, and now I'm crashing&lt;br /&gt;I've had that song in my head all day.. and i just heard it on Last.fm... &lt;br /&gt;I had a lot of thoughts today while i was high...&lt;br /&gt;I just kept on thinking about how Jeff has been there for me all the time, and knowing that I made a mistake ruining his trust... I'm not saying that i want to get back together with him... i just wish that I'd never hurt him... and I'm really missing my dad... I just really don't know where to turn to any more... i think i might call Matt in a little bit... if Jeff doesn't e-mail me back... anyway... i just really needed to get that off my chest... and my thoughts about Jeff and I getting high, and hooking up... i know that i told myself that it wouldn't happen... but i'm not so sure now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8902049383286001390?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8902049383286001390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8902049383286001390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8902049383286001390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8902049383286001390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-will-wait-until-end-when-pendulum.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1863871649007104344</id><published>2007-11-11T19:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T19:25:49.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cutting...</title><content type='html'>hold your breath, hold the pin&lt;br /&gt;take one last look before the endorphins kick in&lt;br /&gt;you push down hard, and pull it fast&lt;br /&gt;count to five, the blood shows at last...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you get the thrill you've wanted all day&lt;br /&gt;no matter what you'll never say&lt;br /&gt;no matter how many times he does it, it always feels best&lt;br /&gt;when you cut yourself, with the pin you keep on your chest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running his nails down my back does feel good,&lt;br /&gt;but it's the thrill of the pin that makes it all worth&lt;br /&gt;knowing that the pain is coming, instead of a dull roar&lt;br /&gt;makes pulling back that pin even less of a chore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting to break free from the monster&lt;br /&gt;but always feeling trapped&lt;br /&gt;i'm raised up when i cut&lt;br /&gt;and i never wanna go back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cutting is like a drug&lt;br /&gt;once you do it a few times you're hooked...&lt;br /&gt;you want the way it makes you feel&lt;br /&gt;to be there always... even though it may hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you this cuz you deserve to know&lt;br /&gt;you say "don't do that" but as you said&lt;br /&gt;"pot calling the kettle black"&lt;br /&gt;i can't take it any more, but when i cut, i fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i cut i escape from my pain&lt;br /&gt;i escape from my headaches, and heart break&lt;br /&gt;i may not be ready to face my problem&lt;br /&gt;but you're not either... we will both hide behind our scars forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my scars are red again, and fresh&lt;br /&gt;cutting makes me feel alive&lt;br /&gt;i know i shouldn't, but it's so hard to back away from the monster&lt;br /&gt;i hope that you're reading this, &lt;br /&gt;because to me that means that you care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1863871649007104344?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1863871649007104344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1863871649007104344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1863871649007104344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1863871649007104344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/cutting.html' title='cutting...'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4081362362393098225</id><published>2007-11-09T23:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T23:09:12.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wanna fly&lt;br /&gt;i wanna fly high over the town&lt;br /&gt;i wanna escape from this world&lt;br /&gt;i wanna escape from all of my pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna escape from this world&lt;br /&gt;i wanna go to a place where no one knows me&lt;br /&gt;i wanna become a new person&lt;br /&gt;i wanna leave my past behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna become a new person&lt;br /&gt;i wanna shed my skin like a snake&lt;br /&gt;i wanna start a new life in a new place&lt;br /&gt;i wanna get away from my problems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna start a new life in a new place&lt;br /&gt;i wanna re-invent myself&lt;br /&gt;i wanna change everything&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna change everything&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have a new body, new life, and&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have a new past&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be free from pity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have a new past&lt;br /&gt;i wanna go to a place where no one knows me&lt;br /&gt;i wanna hide from the pity i've always gotten&lt;br /&gt;i wanna go away and get high&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna hide from the pity i've always gotten&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have people to see past my past&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have people not want me to be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;i wanna go away and get out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna have people not want me to be happy all the time&lt;br /&gt;i wanna to just let my guard down&lt;br /&gt;i wanna take my mask off&lt;br /&gt;i wanna stop pretending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna take my mask off&lt;br /&gt;i wanna have people see the real me&lt;br /&gt;i wanna shed this fake smile&lt;br /&gt;i wanna be the true me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna shed this fake smile&lt;br /&gt;but the smile is what you love&lt;br /&gt;i don't wanna let you down&lt;br /&gt;but i don't know what to do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4081362362393098225?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4081362362393098225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4081362362393098225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4081362362393098225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4081362362393098225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-wanna-fly-i-wanna-fly-high-over-town.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5976580847338841009</id><published>2007-11-09T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T09:51:37.712-05:00</updated><title type='text'>R.I.P.</title><content type='html'>okay.. so... 4 day weekend!! ya!! anyway... Jeff and i are getting back on the friendship track... hopefully i can regain his trust some day... but for now i'm just happy to be talking to him... Matt doesn't like it, but he understands why we still talk... I'm listening to Ch. 4 right now... and it feels good to hear his fav. song, but smell Matt's colone... whatever... i don't have a headache... so that's good... and my dog is in a total depression... we had to put my other dog down yesterday morning, so Sam's wicked confused, lonely, and sad... China's been there since before he was a puppy... it's strange, though... he's calmed down sooo much already... i guess that's what happens... I know how he feels... but he's not gonna become emo... that would be funny... anyway... I guess i'm just trying to stay buisy today... Tomorrow i'm going over to Matt's, and maybe even Sunday too... depends on his rents... anyway... thought peeps (jeff) would want to know how i'm doing... i'm fine... just numb... and i wanna fly high over the town to see you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5976580847338841009?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5976580847338841009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5976580847338841009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5976580847338841009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5976580847338841009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/rip.html' title='R.I.P.'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4817087221037698801</id><published>2007-11-06T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T21:19:57.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>false alarm!!!</title><content type='html'>everything's gonna be okay... Jeff's alive... he's sick, but i'll see him tomorow... and he's gonna start turning his life around... i'm sooo proud... i just went from having the worst day to a better day when he finally texted Sarah... i thought that i was gonna passout from being sooo glad... my knees really did give out from beneath me... if Matt hadn't been there i would've fallen to the floor...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4817087221037698801?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4817087221037698801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4817087221037698801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4817087221037698801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4817087221037698801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/false-alarm.html' title='false alarm!!!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1971517650913862673</id><published>2007-11-05T21:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T21:56:17.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm scared... i think Jeff might've committed suicide tonight... he sent me an e-mail that said to check his blog, which i've bookmarked, and so i see it, read it, and it ways that he's going on a walk tonight, and that he might not come home alive tonight... I'm really scared, and i have no idea how to get a hold of him, and i'm just really scared for him... i don't want him to die... I do still care about him, but he doesn't want to have anything to do with me... i'm so fucking scared that he's not going to come to skool tomorrow, and then i'll know that he's not here... because i've called him twice, and left him 2 text messages, and he still hasn't gotten back to me... i don't know what to do... I"m shaking with every time that i look at my gmail inbox and i don't see that he's e-mailed me back... i'm gonna be freaking till i see him tomorrow... if not... i don't know what i'm gonna do...  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1971517650913862673?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1971517650913862673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1971517650913862673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1971517650913862673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1971517650913862673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-scared.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1965255394224723995</id><published>2007-11-04T19:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T19:48:27.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Loathing, Unadulterated, loathing.</title><content type='html'>i hate my mother... she is soooo annoying and "wanting to be involved in my life" i hate it... she thinks that just because i don't want to stay around to see her and my step-dad acting like they're still together that something's wrong... THE FACT THAT HE'S STILL HERE is what's wrong... and i think that he's dating this chick named Joy... it pisses me off... my mom really needs to get laid... and NOT by my step-dad... cuz i know that they're still sleeping together, and it pisses me off to no fucking end... Why can't she just take the hint that I DON'T WANT HER IN MY LIFE!!!!!!!  She really needs to get a social life, and get a boyfriend... it would make my life a hell of a lot easier... I just want her to get out of my life, and stop trying to care, and ALWAYS asking "what's wrong" NOTHING IS THE MATTER YOU BITCH...AND EVEN IF THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG I'D GO TO MY FRIENDS BEFORE I EVEN THOUGHT OF GOING TO YOU FOR HELP YOU BITCH!!!! DO US ALL A FAVOR ANG GET LAID!!!!!!!!! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1965255394224723995?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1965255394224723995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1965255394224723995&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1965255394224723995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1965255394224723995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/loathing-unadulterated-loathing.html' title='Loathing, Unadulterated, loathing.'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2938613737746355905</id><published>2007-11-04T15:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T15:32:50.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want you to be here in my arms, but i'm not sure if you feel the same.  I want you to hold me, and keep me safe&lt;br /&gt;i want you to tell me that you forgive me, and that you can love me again.  &lt;br /&gt;I don't care if it's selfish, and i don't care that it's just a bad dream, it's what i want...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be there for me like you said it would be.  but i don't want to forget you existed, and i never will...&lt;br /&gt;the scars on my leg and arm are slowly leaving, but it's the ones on my heart that will take forever to fade...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you won't drop off of the world, but help me escape... i want to go away, and never come back to the pain.&lt;br /&gt;i want to light up, or tip my head back and spin out of control... i want to float off of the ground, away from all of the pain, and suffering that i have caused the people in my life... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to go on a trip, and not come back until everything is as it was before.&lt;br /&gt;i want to be in my mind, and away from everyone and the pain i started... &lt;br /&gt;But most of all i want to hide away, and never hurt another person again... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only myself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2938613737746355905?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2938613737746355905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2938613737746355905&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2938613737746355905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2938613737746355905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-want-you-to-be-here-in-my-arms-but-im.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5990785928493439930</id><published>2007-11-04T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T10:19:54.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Ry3gkYaY1DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Pfh-QkCyFVs/s1600-h/l_05c01531f800ed0c36e6084cfc9d5317.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Ry3gkYaY1DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Pfh-QkCyFVs/s320/l_05c01531f800ed0c36e6084cfc9d5317.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129002466277905458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After you see this pic, you think that I'm in love or am giving my heart away again, but I'm not... I'm trying to not hurt your heart... I'm trying to mend things in my life that are broken, like my relationship with you... i don't mean us romantically, because we're completely over that, but our relationship as friends, (if we can still salvage it) I hated seeing the look on your face while Abby told you that she couldn't find it, and i would have gone over there and told her that i was going to help her look for it, but i knew that you would get mad at me, and then would totally distance yourself... not that you're already doing that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really care about you, and when you tell me stuff like "i've already hurt myself, you don't have to, i worry"... i get scared, and i also start to see my grave again... i know that you want me to wipe it out of my memory, but i can't... i'm scared that you'll be buried near me, or around the same time... i never wanted to hurt you, but i guess that's all i'm good for is hurting the people that i care about... and when i get scared about knowing how a bad thing is going to happen, i lie, and then i can't stop lying... it's a form of armor for me, but i know that i need help with that now... i guess that's all i have to say now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5990785928493439930?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5990785928493439930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5990785928493439930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5990785928493439930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5990785928493439930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/after-you-see-this-pic-you-think-that.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/Ry3gkYaY1DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Pfh-QkCyFVs/s72-c/l_05c01531f800ed0c36e6084cfc9d5317.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-510464073481639215</id><published>2007-11-02T15:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T15:35:53.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to my editor</title><content type='html'>I know that you are reading this, because you still have this page bookmarked, probably... &lt;br /&gt;  Anyway, you asked me to tell you why i chose you to lie to, and i guess my answer is because you were there... i didn't want to admit that we were nice with each other, but nothing could ever be between us... i was scared to admit that i knew that we can never be together because we are just too hurt inside, and are both too worried about what the other person will do... I do care about you, but i realize now that when i told you that i only loved Matt as a friend that i would never want to lose, i was talking about both of you... I don't want to lose your friendship, but i know that you never want anything to do with me ever again... I know what i said last time, and even the time before that about me not hurting you, and believe me... if i could go back to homecoming last year, and choose to dance with you again, i would... i would because i want, no need, our friendship... i need you to be there for me, but i know that you don't trust me to be there for you... &lt;br /&gt;   I lied to you because i didn't want to face the truth... well i was wrong, and very sorry... i never meant to hurt you, and i will "burn long enough in hell for that"... but i won't stand mute... i do care about you, and when i'm on stage tonight i will be trying to catch your eye every moment that i can... I know that you see it in my eyes... and i know that you have told everyone that you "called me out for the whore i am" but i tell you true, i never meant to get into this with you... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I'm just as confused as you are, but i hope i answered your question...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-510464073481639215?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/510464073481639215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=510464073481639215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/510464073481639215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/510464073481639215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/letter-to-my-editor.html' title='Letter to my editor'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-7595877727587658759</id><published>2007-11-01T16:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T16:57:39.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't believe this</title><content type='html'>Jeff and i broke up, but it isn't going well.  We weren't going well, and he's just really pissing me off a lot lately... we have rehersal tonight, to, and with him hating me, and telling me to start living because i only have a year to live, is really making me upset... i know that he's reading this, and i know that you said that you "called me out for the whore that i am", and you "totally blew me off"  it hurts me that you hate me, but it really pisses me off that you say that you're pissed because i'm back with Matt, but isn't that what you said to do?!?!?!!? i mean... am i mistaken, or is that what your e-mail about me + matt meant!?!?  whatever... i needed to say this&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-7595877727587658759?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7595877727587658759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=7595877727587658759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7595877727587658759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/7595877727587658759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-cant-believe-this.html' title='I can&apos;t believe this'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-612821100408523186</id><published>2007-10-27T22:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T22:41:35.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Death Sight</title><content type='html'>okay... i know that this is like my 5th post in like 3 days, but i have a lot to say... I cut again tonight in the shower, because i was freaked... When i was talking to Jeff last night, he had a "vision" of sorts, and saw my funeral... and my tombstone was dated 2008... i'm scared, but i don't know if it will come true... &lt;br /&gt;     Who the hell am i kidding... Of course it will... Every time Jeff has had one of these things, about me, or people i know, they've always come true... i'm scared, and i don't know what else to say, other than; Peter, if you're reading this, I'm scared, and want to see you again... before '07 runs out... and possibly my time... &lt;br /&gt;     I'm going to start living my life, and not taking any chances with messing things up with relationships... I'm going to stay single, but not see anyone but the 2 guys that i love, and that (hopefully still) love me.  In January first, i'm going to start becoming very wary of what i'm doing... I want to live to get married, or at least have Sex... but if i don't, i don't want to have any other regrets other than picking the guy for me... &lt;br /&gt;     What Jeff said really got to me, and i think that he saw that in my eyes today during rehersal... I was upset, and I really tried to just keep on working, and to get the cuts from the play into my book so that i could read the people their right lines next weekend... that is if we have the show... &lt;br /&gt;     I guess that's all i have to say... I hope that i don't go into a deep depression, and start cutting really badly...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-612821100408523186?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/612821100408523186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=612821100408523186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/612821100408523186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/612821100408523186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/death-sight.html' title='Death Sight'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-2924956336100738745</id><published>2007-10-27T18:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T18:41:18.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'>relationship</title><content type='html'>Matt, Jeff and I are a big triangle... I love them both, but in totally different ways.   I love Matt as the friend that I could never see go, and I love Jeff in that way that when I see him, my knees turn to jelly, and my brain goes into hyper-drive, and i can't stop that gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach... I can't stand Jeff being mad at me, and not talking to me.  Him ignoring me, is worse than Matt not talking to me... I can't eat anything, because whenever I do, I feel like I'm going to puke...  I mean I even felt like that all day, but I think that that was because Jeff wasn't talking to me.  Anyway... Guys confuse me, and I'm totally love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-2924956336100738745?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2924956336100738745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=2924956336100738745&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2924956336100738745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/2924956336100738745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/relationship.html' title='relationship'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1280995858527846417</id><published>2007-10-24T20:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T20:26:02.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CHECK MY PICS OUT!</title><content type='html'>http://community.webshots.com/user/playmateprincess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check it out!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1280995858527846417?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1280995858527846417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1280995858527846417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1280995858527846417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1280995858527846417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/check-my-pics-out.html' title='CHECK MY PICS OUT!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-6393473421065145032</id><published>2007-10-24T19:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T20:16:44.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything's going wrong</title><content type='html'>Matt and I broke up today.&lt;br /&gt;he's pissed, but 'm not sure how mad yet... i guess i'll see tommorow @ skool.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sorry, but i'm really sad about having to let one of my rocks go.  thought i'd let the world go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-6393473421065145032?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6393473421065145032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=6393473421065145032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6393473421065145032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/6393473421065145032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/everythings-going-wrong.html' title='Everything&apos;s going wrong'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-4976160239233677080</id><published>2007-10-23T20:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T16:38:13.605-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my cutting has gone down a little, but i have a feeling that i'm gonna have to start up again today... I think that Matt &amp; i might break up soon, cuz he's just giving me too much crap.  i can't deal with this, and having my parents breathing down my neck isn't helping... they say that they care, but really they just care about their "investment" of me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-4976160239233677080?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4976160239233677080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=4976160239233677080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4976160239233677080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/4976160239233677080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-cutting-has-gone-down-little-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8120240575748335837</id><published>2007-10-23T16:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T16:47:34.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crucible</title><content type='html'>"I think i love you, so what am I so afraid of?"  I'm afraid that I'm the wrong person for you.  I'm afraid that if you stay with me forever, and you're not my soul mate, that I'm making the biggest mistake of both of our lives... What if I'm meant to be with the other guy, and we never know that until we're fighting every night, and are sleeping on separate beds in the bedroom... or worse... I know that we might be right together, but how long until my pain, and yours can't cope together... what happens then? how long do we have to be uncomfortable around each other until one of us says those two words that can forever change life as we know it? "It's Over."  We may never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8120240575748335837?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8120240575748335837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8120240575748335837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8120240575748335837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8120240575748335837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/crucible.html' title='The Crucible'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3811071300943994561</id><published>2007-10-19T17:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T18:05:04.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ugh</title><content type='html'>I hate this... I like a guy, that I'm not supposed to like but he's the one that's always been there for me when I needed him.he's the one that makes me feel good, and when I'm with him, everything just clicks.. he tells me that if i need him at any time to just call, and to not care what time it is.  He tells me that he's there for me, and can really mean what he says when he's talking to me.  We may be in the same emo boat, but he's handling it like he would've wanted someone to handle it with him.  he's the reason why i do what i do, though... when i see him,  i freak inside, and i just want to be in his arms, but i know that i can't... the reason being you may ask? I have a boyfriend.  Sure, Matt's nice and all, but he;s really not helping me with my attacks.  when i see him, he just gives me a sad look that says "i wish you wouldn't cut, it makes me sad"... but wen Jeff looks at me he's saying "I don't want to see you go down the road that i have traveled, I'll help you, but I need you to try and stop"  Jeff and I have a lot of stuff in common, too, and through everything that I've put him through, i know that he still cares about me the way that i care about him. and now, all of a sudden, my mum starts to care about what I'm doing, or about my feelings... when the hell did she start to care about what i did???!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever... i really don't want this shit... i want to be in Jeff's arms, to smell him again, and i know that he wants it too, i just need to figure out what I'm gonna do with Matt...... i can't just dump him, because that would tear me apart even more... I can't think of another way to deal with my pain, though... i have a lot of issues... don't judge me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3811071300943994561?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3811071300943994561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3811071300943994561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3811071300943994561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3811071300943994561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/ugh.html' title='ugh'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-5216094984880321868</id><published>2007-10-18T20:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T20:34:53.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo</title><content type='html'>My arm turning red and raw&lt;br /&gt;my stomach churning&lt;br /&gt;my heart breaking into a thousand pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My leg throbbing from the cuts&lt;br /&gt;no blood, but it still hurts&lt;br /&gt;can't wrap my head around this problem&lt;br /&gt;just want it to end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want it to solve itself&lt;br /&gt;and have the monster inside of me calm&lt;br /&gt;it's awakened at my cut&lt;br /&gt;and now it will never sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting you to know how i feel&lt;br /&gt;but not wanting you near&lt;br /&gt;wanting to be with another&lt;br /&gt;one who understands my pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one knowing how i feel&lt;br /&gt;no one thinking about my feelings&lt;br /&gt;everyone thinking that they know how i feel&lt;br /&gt;everyone trying to "fix me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is killing my feelings&lt;br /&gt;taking and walking all over them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-5216094984880321868?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5216094984880321868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=5216094984880321868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5216094984880321868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/5216094984880321868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/emo.html' title='Emo'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-1278546525765032158</id><published>2007-10-06T22:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T22:44:32.505-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy... Why???</title><content type='html'>Dear Daddy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     You've been gone for 8 years now.  That's half of my life, and you've never seen the important things in my life.  You abandoned me to live a life that made me think that i wasn't good enough.  You left me, you selfish bastard, and i hate you for it.  What did you think that you were going to solve by going and leaving me forever? You thought that you were doing what was best for me, but really you've destroyed me inside.  You killed me inside.  I can't think of what you did, and i can't sing in the chorus without choking up when we sing a song that reminds me of you.  Kenny Loggins is our songwriter, and i like to imagine that you're singing to me when i play that CD that you used to play me when i was just a baby.  I know about my stepsister, and i know how you treated mom.  I hate Jeremiah because you hated him.  I do things, just because i want to be closer to you.  You know that you never got to see me graduate 8th grade, you never got to meet any of my boyfriends, and you're never going to be able to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.  Don't worry, though, Jeremiah's not going to.  Uncle Peter or Adam is going to walk me down... &lt;br /&gt;    I miss you.  You never got to see me in my scoli brace, and you never got to meet Jonathan.  You won't be there when i go to Prom, and you won't be the person that i talk to when i think about having sex.  You going away from me has torn me up inside, and you're never going to see how much it's hurt me.  If you could come back for just 5 minutes, i would ask you why... why did you leave me?  I was just a little girl when you left.  I didn't know how badly i would want to see you when i left for a dance, and you're never going to know how i felt after my first kiss.  You missed out on my life, and getting to know a great person.  And what about Angela?? I thought that you two would get married?? then i would have a few older siblings... what the hell happened to that idea?? She was crying soooo hard at your funeral and i was probably the only person with a dry eye in the house.  You should know that, though, and i think that it's a sign that it's raining tonight.  Like the song "Holes in the floor of heaven" you're watching over me, but i don't want you watching over me, i want you breathting down my neck like a REAL father i should have.  I love you, but i wish that you hadn't been do damn selfish.  I hope that you understand my pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        ~Your Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-1278546525765032158?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1278546525765032158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=1278546525765032158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1278546525765032158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/1278546525765032158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/daddy-why.html' title='Daddy... Why???'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-8498581070314408089</id><published>2007-10-04T21:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T22:02:28.961-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the last 3 months</title><content type='html'>okay... time for an update... the summer went well, but i didn't see Peter... (btw... we broke up, and then Matt and I started dating...  anyway, that's old news.  After camp i came home, and that weekend i went to a motorcycle course that i got my permit in.  I was wicked upset when i didn't get my license, but I'm going for my license later in the month... both of them, actually.  anyway... I'm a Junior this year, and I'm already getting the respect that i deserve.  I mean... well... I'm an upper class man this year, so i get some freshmen to do what i say.  anyway... Holly came back, for like 2 weeks, and then she got kicked out, at least she hasn't been back for 3 weeks... and the longest that the school can suspend for is 10 school days... i think... it might be a month... which would suck.  anyway... she tried to threaten me, but the funny thing was, she was losing her voice, so she couldn't really threaten me and make it scary.  Then about 3 weeks ago our school was in the paper for having a "gang" called the ARG (Ass-Raping-Gays to everyone @ school) and we had an assembly today, about it and how we're going to have a "no tolerance policy" now for gangs, or "gang related instances"... i think that it's funny... so... what else has been happening??? My friend Sarah;s engaged, but isn't sure if she wants to see it through (she;s 16) and my b/f Matt and i are on the rocks right now because he heard from a "reliable source" that i made-out with a guy on my bus that i hate... i have no idea how he could even think that I'd do that to him, but I'm just not talking to him right now...  Did i say that at the end of last year i was all confused about what guy i wanted to date, and ended up breaking-up with Jeff to be with Matt?? well... now you know.  I'm also going to be in "The Crucible" for Drama this fall, and the show is the 1st weekend in November.  I guess that's everything that's happening in my life, besides what i;m going to post after this.  Love You All!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-8498581070314408089?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8498581070314408089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=8498581070314408089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8498581070314408089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/8498581070314408089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/10/last-3-months.html' title='the last 3 months'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-3965805006287461979</id><published>2007-06-03T15:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T15:39:26.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what's been happenin</title><content type='html'>OMG!!!! soooo much has been happening in the last few months...alright... March... nothing else happened... other than what i told you about already.  April... ummm... school... oh!! Annie! my school performed the musical Annie near the middle of the month.  that was fun.  oh, and guys... ok... Peter's out, Matt was in, but now is out again, because Jeff and I are back together (look @ december).  It was during Annie that we really re-connected, and now we're back on.  I really care about him a lot, not that i didn't care about Matt or Peter, cause i did, i just really feel like everything's right with the world right now.  I'm 16, I have a b/f who adores me, and i'm passing all of my classes.  Anyway... that's about all that happened in April.  And  now for last month.  Whew... that went by fast... i turned 16 on the last sunday, and that's all i really remember about May.  I got a new cell, my aunt sent me a kimono, and i did good in all of my classes.  If i get a B in geometry this semester... i'll be on the honor roll... i haven't been on that in like 3 years... ya... 6th grade... so 4 years...  i do a lot of these "..." but i like it.  it lets you know that there's a pause.  Anyway... So now for what's happened in the last week.  since finals are coming up... i've been freaking out a little bit, but my theater final is done, and i'm working on my history final too.  I really hope that i do good on my finals.  I guess that that's all i have to say... I "heart" my b/f, and i'm doing great in school.  Everything's good in my world.  I hope that you like the update...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH!!!! I almost forgot... I GAVE BLOOD! on the 31st.  I'm 16 now so i can give blood if my guardian consents.  and my mum did.  I felt great... and was happy that i did it.  i was so excited because it's like the first thing that i did as a 16-year-old.  That's it yall...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-3965805006287461979?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3965805006287461979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=3965805006287461979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3965805006287461979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/3965805006287461979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/06/whats-been-happenin.html' title='what&apos;s been happenin'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-9041483459685093669</id><published>2007-03-16T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T21:15:50.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>you have to check this out</title><content type='html'>www.lost.eu/3080f&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check this out... it's pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also... I'll give you a run-down of what I've been up to lately. well... the 1 Act festival was cancelled, so my school performed our act on Thursday night after the music thing. Then after i got into a fight.. again... ( i didn't start it.) i was sick on Wednesday of this week, and missed school. Then today i was stressed out that the person that i got into the fight with was back, but it was all cool... i guess that that's all. not much has been happening here. oh... my dad's moving back in... but that's a whole other post... another day I'll tell you everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh... and Peter... I'm SO sorry that i haven't talked to you lately.. I've just been really busy, and you know that your phone at home can call out and tell me to call you... you &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; know that... right?? anyway... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;out all, and have fun without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I post again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-9041483459685093669?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/9041483459685093669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=9041483459685093669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/9041483459685093669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/9041483459685093669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-have-to-check-this-out.html' title='you have to check this out'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-117095245765176428</id><published>2007-02-08T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T11:34:17.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i can't believe how nervous i was over nothing.  I mean if i was really going to be this nervous than i might have not even bothered.  auditions were a lo worse in middle school than they were in high-school 1 acts.  ha ha i just heard a funny quoteon Family guy.  &lt;br /&gt;Peter: "Holy crip, he's a crapple!" &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-117095245765176428?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/117095245765176428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=117095245765176428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/117095245765176428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/117095245765176428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-cant-believe-how-nervous-i-was-over.html' title=''/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-117047030306302791</id><published>2007-02-02T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T22:48:21.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decieved (prologe)</title><content type='html'>Every time that she thought of him, and what he had meant to her, she started to feel the water-works start to come on.  She knew that she had to be brave, but how brave could you be when you had been stood up at the alter.  Sitting in the dimly lit chapel, still in her designer dress, she began to wonder what she ever saw in John to begin with.  Sure he had been at the top of his class at Harvard, but what else did he do for her? He was never home, he was never loving, and when he was home and being loving, he was never too good in that department.  (Ladies, you should know what I'm saying.)  He wasn't even that cute, but for some reason she loved him, and he had said that he loved her.  &lt;br /&gt;     What he said, and what he did were totally different things.  According to her brother, and the Best Man, he had gotten cold feet and had fled to Europe with their young, busty travel agent who always wore short skirts and low-cut tops.  That was probably how they had gotten such a nice honeymoon.  They had had it all planned out.  They were going to go to Venice for a week, and then they were going to jet off to London for another week.  Then a hop, skip, and a jump through Paris, Rome, and Edinburgh.  Then they were going to get on a plane, in first class, and go to the spa together.  All together they were going to be gone for a month.  &lt;br /&gt;     "Well, I guess that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Vivian&lt;/span&gt; and John will be going on our honeymoon, and I guess that I can't feel sorry for myself any more."&lt;br /&gt;     Walking out of the chapel she held her head high, and began to start plans for her new life. Without a man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-117047030306302791?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/117047030306302791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=117047030306302791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/117047030306302791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/117047030306302791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/02/decieved-prologe.html' title='Decieved (prologe)'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19070978.post-116883657911601589</id><published>2007-01-14T23:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:49:39.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Think I Love You!</title><content type='html'>I think that i'm in love with Peter.  I'm not sure, but i really like him, and when we were at the mall this past weekend it just felt right.  I mean I would choose places, and he would choose places, and we just totally clicked.  plus our first kiss wasn't the most perfect placed, but it was wonderful.  I can't wait untill we get to have some real alone time together. Also, even though he wanted to spend a ton of money on me I was happy even when he didn't.  If we just went onto a store and were in each other's company.  I'm sooooooo pissed, though, because even though i had a digital camera there we didn't take one picture of us.  I really would have liked a few pics to show to my friends.  Oh, did I say that i saw Jess, Molly, and Nick there too?? well I did.  I even introduced them to Peter as my boyfriend and they seemed to like him, but I'll have to wait till Tuesday to hear their real verdict on their feelings over him.  Right now i can's stop thinking about this past summer and how there were soooo many signs, but i was just too wanting him to do something big to notice.  oh, ya...  i  liked peter this summer, and so did my friend, but it turns out that peter liked me too, but he just wouldn't put a move on me because we were at a church camp.  also one of the councelors was waching us like a hawk.  lol.  but... ya.  being with peter just feels right.  i don't know if i can call it love just let, but i am totally in like with him.  head-over-heels in like or even luv with Peter Griffin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope that the feeling's mutual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caio!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19070978-116883657911601589?l=whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/feeds/116883657911601589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19070978&amp;postID=116883657911601589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/116883657911601589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19070978/posts/default/116883657911601589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverhappensdoes.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-think-i-love-you.html' title='I Think I Love You!'/><author><name>~Angel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QF8gZD3JWDs/S15GNGpt1BI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6k9n8WRDTqw/S220/Oh_My_by_Phobic42.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
