tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58658872539462483392024-03-14T03:07:57.850-07:00A Tale of the Undercover Blondesashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-49590077847043549452011-07-21T02:32:00.000-07:002011-07-21T03:06:23.916-07:00New Year, New PostOh, hey there. It's been awhile, hasn't it?<br />Looking back at everything I've gone through a year later, I can say that I'm glad I stuck through it. I learned a lot about myself and about others. I no longer let myself be taken advantage of and I no longer delude myself in terms of my relationships and myself. Yes, I was acting desperate and I'm not proud of it. But, can you blame someone so young and naive?<br />Well, it's on to bigger and better things! This chapter ends with the summer, and a new one begins in Switzerland. I can't say how excited I am to meet new people, learn in a different way, see another world, and find a part of myself I didn't know existed.<br /><br />Here's to living life.sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-54042904167829032712010-08-02T21:09:00.000-07:002010-08-02T22:03:49.948-07:00Polyamory<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1naiCW4XLJkxtwju1HXEDuJpEDkO75o09ojdhGzE9PcYx3mx4ul8ufriZs2HTiR54mf6JZ4qTur2ULpdEB3M-SuI7vgLUV797OizbF3rl-6HC7djMAU2L-MDZIVMlzCvIdav2-fBogRA/s1600/vicky-cristina-barcelona1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1naiCW4XLJkxtwju1HXEDuJpEDkO75o09ojdhGzE9PcYx3mx4ul8ufriZs2HTiR54mf6JZ4qTur2ULpdEB3M-SuI7vgLUV797OizbF3rl-6HC7djMAU2L-MDZIVMlzCvIdav2-fBogRA/s320/vicky-cristina-barcelona1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501044640548175778" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>Def: <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:sans-serif;font-size:13px;">the practice, desire, or acceptance of having more than one intimate relationship at a time with the knowledge and consent of everyone involved [wiki]</span>. Some see it as the ultimate fantasy. For others, it's damnation. The way I see it, it's a part of life and of human nature.<div><br /></div><div>Growing up in a predominately Christian society, the only way I saw how relationships work was: be abstinent. get married. be with one person forever. Like many (but, not all to be fair) Christian beliefs, this really limits a person's experiences, imagination, and freedom to grow. And, it's because of these narrow minded beliefs that I became sexually frustrated as a teen. After being out on my own, I saw that it didn't have to be that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even in this day and age, where everything is out in the open, polyamory is a concept that some find difficult to accept. Especially in a western culture, there are still those monogamous influences that prevent many from fully accepting it. But, it is very possible. Think for a moment what it would be like to be in a polyamorous relationship. To be truly open with each person. No secrets, no lies. That is the basis for polyamory. </div><div><br /></div><div>To me, it's evident that lots of people seek polyamory. How many times have you experienced or heard of someone being cheated on? It's often the basis for many divorces too. With polyamory, you have the option of discussing the possibility of another relationship. It's not cheating because you've both communicated and agreed upon it. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, why don't people do this? Is it because our society still clings on to the traditional monogamous view? Do people get a thrill out of lying and sneaking around? Personally, I think a bit of both. Also, polyamory isn't for everyone. There may come a point where you're content with only one person and that's perfectly alright. Some people can't handle the jealousy and possessiveness. For multiple partners, each person can bring to the relationship a different aspect. If you feel something is missing in one relationship, then a different person can fulfill that void. </div><div><br /></div><div>Can it really work? From experience, yes it can. But, you have to be true to the values of polyamory:</div><div>fidelity and loyalty</div><div>trust, honesty, dignity, and respect</div><div>mutual support</div><div>communication and negotiation</div><div>non-possessiveness.</div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-47987361377400015272010-07-21T02:32:00.000-07:002010-07-21T03:28:00.897-07:00Life Is A Fashion Show<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFcDbpgFUene1NhpWe7qVGd3d02kdBh6529hp_CbWWJUCvQojWu_xoHUu9ufdntR6qfl20rsW_7vpXHX8vMz5sblaiw5CXkhyphenhyphenh_PWpZChv94n-XtZ0MR-j3REfiG-EntwXg_IFLMsm0U/s1600/heidi-montag.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFcDbpgFUene1NhpWe7qVGd3d02kdBh6529hp_CbWWJUCvQojWu_xoHUu9ufdntR6qfl20rsW_7vpXHX8vMz5sblaiw5CXkhyphenhyphenh_PWpZChv94n-XtZ0MR-j3REfiG-EntwXg_IFLMsm0U/s320/heidi-montag.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496304131225790882" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>I want you to want me. That's what everyone thinks in this city. We dress up and put on a show. Girls are expected to wear the skimpiest outfits, shoot a makeup gun at their face, and bleach the shit out of their hair. Where did female sexuality go? Where did the days go when we all didn't look like these generic, plastic dolls? The sad part is that most of us buy into it. Girls think they're sexy looking like cheap hookers and guys come to expect it as normal. Our mentality and ideals are twisted and conformed until what's left is something unnatural. <div><br /><div>I took a stroll downtown today and it's all I could see - life is one big fashion show. It's not an uncommon thing to see a BMW with a new driver sign slapped on the back or a 16yr old wearing Armani. And, the adults aren't that better. Just take a look at housing prices in Vancouver. No one can really afford it, so we see people take out 50yr mortgages now. People are also trying to fool themselves into thinking their jobs are more significant than they really are. Take serving - some people think they're in the "industry", but go anywhere else and it's considered one of the lowliest jobs. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's all a great deception. Whether it's because we're hiding from ourselves or because the media made us this way, I'm not sure. It makes me sad that we are the ones building these impossible standards for ourselves. Is there a way to fix this or is the next generation just as damned? </div></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-78334560604700206702010-06-17T00:19:00.000-07:002010-06-17T00:33:16.138-07:00Finally...Karma's a bitch, isn't it? <div><br /></div><div>You'll mope around for a while, feeling sorry for your self. But, eventually you'll go back to being the same concocting, manipulative, lying son-of-a-bitch. I feel sorry for any woman who has to bear your company. I'm just glad I'm not that girl anymore. </div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-21909818579710697902010-06-13T07:56:00.000-07:002010-06-13T08:26:00.071-07:00No Other WayIn the future, I'm sure I'll look back and laugh at how ridiculous I am. Why do I put myself through this? It's not worth the mental drain. Because, physically I have moved on and to anyone it would seem that I'm a typical 20 something dating around and having fun. But, reality lies within my thoughts. It's hard to deceive one's mind. <div><br /></div><div>I will lie to myself if it means getting over you. Not something I wanted to do, but I don't see any other way. </div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-15001088879567837752010-06-10T23:39:00.000-07:002010-06-11T00:21:41.145-07:00At the Stroke of 12 I WeptWhat do you do when someone you deeply care about is killing themselves slowly? They make mistake after mistake, but you can't do a thing. You can't say anything either. Day by day you see them literally waste away. <div><br /></div><div>It's so hard... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I can't be there for you, at least not in the way you want me to. I feel like you're doing a lot for attention. It's like you NEED the disorder because you know that people will constantly be telling you that they love you, that they think you're gorgeous, blah, blah, blah - all in attempt to boost your non-existant self esteem. Everything revolves around you. I was astonished when you asked your parents to send you to the states. That's so selfish. You're taking away from their retirement, you're taking away from your sister's schooling, take, take, take. And then you lay the ol' "fine, you must not care about me that much and if I'm really ruining everyone's life then I might as well give up!" really? like, really? is it necessary to be so god damn dramatic? You always have liked to live the glamorous life. I can't deal with that most days. I'm the total opposite in a lot of ways. I don't let comments get to me. If someone tells me they think I should lose some weight, I tell them to fuck themselves. Why would I ever care about what they think of me?</div><div><br /></div><div>But, it's not entirely you. There's the chemical imbalance and the genetics. You're very strange - obsessive compulsive about everything, anxious all the time, measuring/counting, paranoid of nothing, very self absorbed (you don't talk or interact), and most of the time you don't seem to know exactly what's going on with your life or the world in general. I don't mean this in a malign way - that's just the way you're acting. And, I know it's not the real you. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sad for you. You're going to die - and it's looking sooner rather than later. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-88587441241350119152010-06-10T00:35:00.000-07:002010-06-10T00:43:51.840-07:00You Lost Me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN39ELUPcjaRwWuNNeSQoowXOUyHhqODU7riaELNZuWGhcQbAKMuHYnpJxXFGC1-VKS7tipMojXW6hEIO0vcSLmKuhMoECc3CYsJ0XIE7TaQHmYxKpA0njqyv_VC4QQbqingJ8DEz6dd4/s1600/lost_me.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN39ELUPcjaRwWuNNeSQoowXOUyHhqODU7riaELNZuWGhcQbAKMuHYnpJxXFGC1-VKS7tipMojXW6hEIO0vcSLmKuhMoECc3CYsJ0XIE7TaQHmYxKpA0njqyv_VC4QQbqingJ8DEz6dd4/s320/lost_me.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481046837388346370" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(101, 101, 101); line-height: 20px; font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:14px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(101, 101, 101); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; ">I am done, smoking gun<br />We've lost it all, the love is gone<br />She has won. Now it's no fun<br />We've lost it all, the love is gone<br /><br />And we had magic<br />And this is tragic<br />You couldn't keep your hands to yourself<br /><br />I feel like our world's been infected<br />And somehow you left me neglected<br />We found our life's been changed<br />Babe, you lost me<br /><br />And we tried, oh how we cried<br />We lost ourselves, the love has died<br />And oh, we tried, you can't deny<br />We're left as shells, we lost the fight<br /><br />Now I know you're sorry and we were sweet<br />But you chose lust when you deceived me<br />You'll regret it but it's too late<br />How can I ever trust you again?<br /><br />I feel like our world's been infected<br />And somehow you left me neglected<br />We found our life's been changed<br />Babe, you lost me</span></span></span></div></span>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-52856082627894948722010-06-07T14:46:00.000-07:002010-06-07T15:34:52.946-07:00Word VomitOnce you know someone you can never really un-know them. You can have years go by and move to different cities, but it doesn't lessen you feelings. Because, through it all, they are the one person who you think about in your best moments - and in your worst. And, after all this time, you still can't forget. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You know, you think you're over someone and then one night you find yourself bawling your eyes out over them. You can fake to the world with a smile, but you can't run from yourself. I'm sorry if all of this overwhelms you, but you can imagine that for me it's a thousand times worse if I don't let it all out. I'm trying... I'm really trying hard to move on. Only time can tell how long this feeling lasts.</div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-47389085380468924102010-06-04T23:48:00.000-07:002010-06-05T00:08:58.346-07:00The Sun Won't Shine<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Krd2uY3rlDkbBxqjoNfmC3C1a4hJ7db2L2m7YNZEgSLqNq77GCWu0Co_F384dPER-RUzLbc2bWBv0HncuBOqh6AqpGVjcPy59w3mNC_wu_7AzQkXgSj8B4nT9Zmf_9a42DQpzLX5-HU/s1600/Photo+on+2010-04-20+at+11.28+%233.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Krd2uY3rlDkbBxqjoNfmC3C1a4hJ7db2L2m7YNZEgSLqNq77GCWu0Co_F384dPER-RUzLbc2bWBv0HncuBOqh6AqpGVjcPy59w3mNC_wu_7AzQkXgSj8B4nT9Zmf_9a42DQpzLX5-HU/s320/Photo+on+2010-04-20+at+11.28+%233.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479183123809263234" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551A8B;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;">I'm not myself. I'm being very sarcastic of late, I'm not as engaging, and I fake every smile. How pathetic... </span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">The sun won't shine</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">And you can't be mine.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">So, tomorrow I'll hope</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">That you'll pick up the phone</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">And tell me I don't have to be alone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Please tighten this rope</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Around my neck because I can't bare</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">The thought of you not there.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Goodbye, my friend - sweet love of mine.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">I'll drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine.</span></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-70272070514093054972010-06-02T23:29:00.000-07:002010-06-02T23:40:34.688-07:00Is There Anyone There?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">It's like I'm talking to a ghost. In fact, I don't even know if you're alive. What if something happened. What if we never spoke again? How would I even know... It's frightening. In fact, it scares the hell out of me. It's been 2 months, but it feels like an eternity. Will I ever get my best friend back? </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">If you can hear my thoughts then you'll know that I would die to hear from you - anything. I just want to know that you're ok, that you're adjusting well, and that you're going to be alright. Until then, I don't think I can be alright. </span></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-71618297949977543082010-06-01T00:15:00.000-07:002010-06-01T00:51:46.922-07:00The Beginning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPlFdH1S6B0Qo98jCtPI9XzTtSYc1m3A2WfNl1yJy8o_YZbtww2FCEttxJWEs2F-20n4LusW3sD15HvpcdWRG2yws672UM42HClKkicVh4UMpwTqPWO-26SubL0ZJAgVXym2h76XcbvU/s1600/SunRise.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPlFdH1S6B0Qo98jCtPI9XzTtSYc1m3A2WfNl1yJy8o_YZbtww2FCEttxJWEs2F-20n4LusW3sD15HvpcdWRG2yws672UM42HClKkicVh4UMpwTqPWO-26SubL0ZJAgVXym2h76XcbvU/s320/SunRise.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477709650438415394" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><div><br /></div>I'm starting to understand the reasons why. There's no excuse, but sometimes things just happen. One thing starts and before we know it we've wrapped ourselves up in it and it's out of control; you're out of control. The more time passes, the harder it gets. At first it may have been to fill the void or you're doing it out of spite. Then, we get attached to something. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">Why do we always end up doing it to those we profess to love? Maybe we think that they'll forgive us. We take them for granted or get "comfortable". We lie to others and in turn, we lie to ourselves. We think as long as we can get away with these lies then there's no problem. Why rock the boat? Maybe there was something missing in our lives and we think we are gaining something through someone else. In the end, there's a hollow shell and you're left with less than you had before. Yes, it's true - everything eventually does catch up with you. And, when it does you might try to run or hide - but it only makes things worse. And, then you think to yourself that you really fucked it up this time. The answer is yeah, you fucked it up BIG time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;">But, with time comes realization. Realization brings acceptance. And, with acceptance there can be a need for change. I believe that before you can fix anything there must be change. And, for once, you have to be selfish and change for you and only you. So, have the courage to start acting like the responsible, amazing, selfless, good person everyone knows you to be - then I guarantee you that you'll begin to see that in yourself too. It's never too late to start from the beginning.</span></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-43763615552886814742010-05-30T23:30:00.000-07:002010-05-31T00:20:11.576-07:00Poems<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">Someone Greater</span></b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Feel the dirt between your toes</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Smell the salty sea air</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Breathe in the morning light</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Hear the echo of silence</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Laugh and watch how it grows</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Dance naked without a care</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Watch your dreams take flight</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">See how far they take you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">You are greater than anyone knows</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">You are something quite rare</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Continue on this path and you just might</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">End up becoming someone better</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Than even you could have imagined</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">Betrayed Lover</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I'll give you my heart</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">If you might try to love me</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">You threw it away</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I wish you could take back those things you've done</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Don't leave me standing here once again</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">You know I love you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">How many chances can I give?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">Without You</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I get along without you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Except when warm winds blow on a summers day</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">The playful air wraps us together</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">And lights up our smiles</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">But, I get along without you very well</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I've forgotten you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Except to hear your name</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Or see a face that is the same</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">But, I've forgotten you just like I should</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I look to the future and it suits me well</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I shove the past aside to the back of my mind</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">For if I remember you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">My heart will surely break in two</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">The Road</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I don't know what's real any more</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Time passes suddenly slow</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Where do I go from here?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Trains and planes take us to distant places;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">back to what is pure</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Running full on only to fall flat on my face</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">The wind whispers your name sweetly in my ear</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">The road ahead stretches into infinity</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I walk on only to feel alive</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Tears you've made me weep have washed away my path</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">So, I start anew</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I can go whichever way I please</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Why can't I just let go...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">Fly Away</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Fly away with me</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Come smell the sea</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">It's been far too long</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Since we did each other wrong</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Let's put the past behind</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Set sail on the winds of love</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Gave up at the constellations above</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Drive around in your beat-up car</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">We don't even know how lucky we are</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I can't pretend you haven't been on my mind</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#00CCCC;">Dreaming of the Osaka Sun</span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Tonight I'm gonna run</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Don't hold me back</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">Because I"ve made up my mind</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">The road is all shadows and pitch</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">And, I've no candle to guide me</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">With hope alone I'll trudge along</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">One day the light will come out</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I'm dreaming of the Osaka sun</span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-49687230413454936592010-05-30T02:10:00.000-07:002010-05-30T02:25:52.621-07:00Dear John<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">If I could only reach out to you and tell you everything. I would write you a thousand letters. I would send you a hundred messages. I would give you a million reasons. I would say everything by saying nothing. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">And, why am I doing all of this? I don't really know the answer. I will write all the time. Don't you realize this is all for you? But really, mostly it's for me. I can't give up just yet. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">I know I'm a silly girl with a head full of emotion, but who cares! I can't go through life unless I know I tried. I don't want to be left wondering. Why did you have to leave like that?</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-17886757720376156892010-05-29T01:06:00.000-07:002010-05-29T01:28:48.948-07:00An Angry Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMsOmFEj_D_hjf0Odb5cYjEPvsiCarw1HpLbojyvKND9z9MHZV8HcohjDys6HdcBnpfY5-MSf7fJ21bGlt1NjKyVWhrHcIGoI-v7o6qh7kQMscLD2JSkia1CHmsFtH3bN6lRMfKbDR44/s1600/Screaming_complete.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMsOmFEj_D_hjf0Odb5cYjEPvsiCarw1HpLbojyvKND9z9MHZV8HcohjDys6HdcBnpfY5-MSf7fJ21bGlt1NjKyVWhrHcIGoI-v7o6qh7kQMscLD2JSkia1CHmsFtH3bN6lRMfKbDR44/s320/Screaming_complete.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476605916217865666" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;">Fuck! Fucking-bloodly-shitty-motherfucking-fuck-fuck!! </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;">Honestly, can I please go a day without you sticking your nose in? How the hell am I supposed to move on with my life when you're still in my head? It's nauseating. I would bang my head against the wall if it meant that thoughts of you might fall out. Good lord, can I just get a grip on myself! Every, single, bloody day is a battle. And why is it that you always seem to win? This is stupid. Do I have to scream it for you?! Would you hear me if I did? No, you won't. Because you're gone...</span></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-3646347718528386392010-05-25T00:02:00.000-07:002010-05-29T01:06:00.928-07:00Memories of YouToo often I do think of you. Like today, for instance:<div><br /></div><div>I woke this morning and starting sorting through my shit in preparation for moving. I came across the scrapbook I made for you (which you totally didn't deserve) and this time I smiled instead of hurling it across the room or thinking of throwing it off the burrard street bridge. Later, I went for a jog and saw a wood pecker and thought of you laughing at it. Then at work, I was bartending and had to laugh about all the fun times we had there and how much stolen liquor we got away with (it's ridiculous come to think of it). Then, I was walking home and saw the big dipper and knew that you had probably looked up at some point too and thought of me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Memories of you are comforting. I hope you haven't forgot about me. </div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-92220230474692922992010-05-24T00:44:00.000-07:002010-05-24T01:32:31.819-07:00A Long Time Coming<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bb2IxRb1WIrtfx5RmW18hWVk-vmsT7-j5IXzAleBmL5yH4phFhbrgiwFmvzFX8ZRrEULibPeh9TXXt-qnBrarAJgXBMR4x9WTWwhVH2_PEhTpRiG9dLt7sfjcuvqHWDdX2fZvn68lkM/s1600/humility.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bb2IxRb1WIrtfx5RmW18hWVk-vmsT7-j5IXzAleBmL5yH4phFhbrgiwFmvzFX8ZRrEULibPeh9TXXt-qnBrarAJgXBMR4x9WTWwhVH2_PEhTpRiG9dLt7sfjcuvqHWDdX2fZvn68lkM/s320/humility.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474751428731446482" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">I've lied. Most people have, but not everyone can admit it. I've been lying to myself for too long. I think there comes a time in everyone's life when they decide to come clean. Now is my time. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">I have a spending problem. I don't budget my money and I'm living pay check to pay check. I know I can't afford things, but I get them anyway. I find excuses: It'll cheer me up; I NEEDED it; I've worked hard and deserve a treat; things will work itself out. The list goes on, but in the end who a I kidding? I can never ask for money from my parents because I'm trying to be independent. I know now that if I want nice things, I have to wait. Right now I'm starting my life. Good things don't just come without hard work and savings. I'm learning, but it's hard.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">I'm so arrogant. I've been that way my entire life. I've always been the over achiever: top student in my class, only one to go to UBC on a full scholarship, got into the prestigious science one program. I think I know better than everyone, but I'm actually very naive. There's so much about people and about life that I don't know about. Every day I learn something new. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">I saw it coming, and I ignored it. What girl is naive enough to think that a guy living with his "ex"girlfriend is only friends with her and that he just thought it "made more sense" that they don't find another place apart since he's leaving soon anyways? And if they were only friends, why did he never mention her? Why is it that he is always "working" some place else when I ask if he wants to hangout sometimes? Like valentines day. He so conveniently had to work at the hospital all night. And when I try to give him a gift he tells me to keep it at my place. He is all talk and no action. We spoke of doing so many things, but never got around to them. He once told me he bought some flowers, but then came back to find my door locked so he took them home (and probably gave them to her). Why wouldn't you just leave them at the doorstep if you went through so much trouble? I think he tried to tell me once. It was right before he left. He sent me a message saying "what are we doing?" At the time I thought nothing of it, but maybe he was trying to say something and I was too in denial to hear it. Then she sent me that email. It was there , plain as day, that what I feared most was real. She told me they were still together, that he told her he loved her, that he asked her to come away with him, that he asked her to marry him, that I had ruined their relationship. I didn't want to hear it. Then everyone at work started slipping me clues. They knew what was going on and they tried to protect me. I thought they were wrong. My mother and my sister both told me that he was no good. They said that he was only using me and that I would get hurt. I thought they didn't know anything. EVERYTHING was screaming that I was making the wrong choice. That's the most I've ever lied to myself. Because, they were right. I've known it all along. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">So, here I am. Me. I'm a girl who's trying to figure out life. I've taken a few wrong turns, but I get back on track with a little humility. I've learned that lying (or denying the truth) is a path to nowhere but sadness and pain. I hope you find your way. </span></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-10242393239344733512010-05-20T00:19:00.000-07:002010-05-23T16:21:17.252-07:00All Over AgainEverything is changing. Everything is new again. But, I'm left with the familiarity of yesterday. I want to scream! I'm afraid to feel... loneliness, uncertainty, heart break, pain, sadness, anger, and despair. I'm also scared to feel happy and alive again because that means it really is over. It feels like a dream and I'm waiting for something to tell me that it wasn't. Sometimes, I don't know what was real and what wasn't anymore.<div><br /></div><div>All I know is that I want you back in my life. I tried so hard to forget you. I told myself to let go, but I held on. I know deep inside that it's over, and you're really gone. But, I can't stop loving you. The worst part is that I can't tell you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everyday we grow further apart. Soon, you'll be nothing but a memory. You didn't write to me... so, I guess you gave up. And, now I'm moving. It hurts, but maybe it's the only way. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, I can say that I only wish you the best. I want you to be happy and if that means being with a certain someone (not to mention any names), then I will support you. </div><div><br /></div><div>So here I go, trying to live my life - all over again.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-37371560326544783072010-05-17T00:02:00.000-07:002010-05-17T01:13:50.244-07:00So Yesterday<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8Z6u0bqD1PkeBNeLw4TiMMTqAmln2agtojoV_sh7Bbq8ezo0viQYdkxzRnomeE1oCEXetuNEHx1EUaY7DjG487r3-fuT2mEeOdxnMP6J6BKHz_akQt2ZkqvD3VdQAyMdf9u0VRLA7qo/s1600/hair_flip.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8Z6u0bqD1PkeBNeLw4TiMMTqAmln2agtojoV_sh7Bbq8ezo0viQYdkxzRnomeE1oCEXetuNEHx1EUaY7DjG487r3-fuT2mEeOdxnMP6J6BKHz_akQt2ZkqvD3VdQAyMdf9u0VRLA7qo/s320/hair_flip.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472136312557688050" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;">So much to say, but not knowing how. You can't take back the things you did or said. Every day gets easier and harder at the same time. Nothing lasts forever, so let's be honest. No more sweeping secrets beneath the carpet. Could we fix this? You've left me speechless for quite some time. I love you more than words can say, but I'll let you go if you'd rather continue on without me as a friend. After all the times and places - can you really give it up? </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;">I've been a fool in so many ways, and you have too. But, that's the thing about life: you can start all over again if you want to. We used to have something great and I don't want that to be over because of our immaturity. Let's go back. A time when you and I were getting to know each other. Before the drama. Before our lives got complicated. Back to just you and I sitting on a bench in the park drinking a bottle of wine. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;">So much has changed. I've learned a lot about myself and what I want out of life. I intend to live it to the fullest. And, I've thought long and hard about you. I feel like I've been robbed of something. In my life there's been heart ache and pain. But, I can't stop believing the best of people. I believe in you completely. I always have. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF99FF;">All I want is your friendship. I don't know if you still want mine (and that's ok if you don't). But, if you do - let me know. I miss you. </span></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-2393869177096975302010-05-16T02:15:00.000-07:002010-05-16T02:33:43.383-07:00Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiGTT-Ho6Y8Z6MlfnxUMn-f1KfbxlxVkPeL9NE4BXyNxq3fLTnEH1OMV3iZMuLhF1a1DCjAGu0m6yHf4vg3uQyvNRaH-1n8rtZm6ZqAeFqUYUaFEBpX5Wm_CM7BD9O7p_Pek-aUC1nPs/s1600/flower_ocean.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiGTT-Ho6Y8Z6MlfnxUMn-f1KfbxlxVkPeL9NE4BXyNxq3fLTnEH1OMV3iZMuLhF1a1DCjAGu0m6yHf4vg3uQyvNRaH-1n8rtZm6ZqAeFqUYUaFEBpX5Wm_CM7BD9O7p_Pek-aUC1nPs/s320/flower_ocean.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471795277991757106" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>Such a precious thing. We so often take it for granted too. I can't believe I've gone two full decades already and yet, I haven't the faintest idea of what life really is. I've seen it come and go to both the young and old. I hope that one day they'll be telling stories about me, and reminiscing of good times we shared and what a great, long life I lived. I know I have great things coming for me. I can feel it. At times it's very frightening because what if I don't live up to my potential? What will my life be like then? <div><br /></div><div>I often think of how others' lives will turn out. I see the potential in them and they'll go on to do amazing things. Every once in a while though, that thought is shattered. The death of a friend of mine came as quite a shocker. How can someone end their life like that? Everyone goes through a shitty stage in their life, but to the point of giving up completely... it's a scary thought. </div><div><br /></div><div>I want to reach out to those I've neglected. I want to shout I LOVE YOU to those I care about. Life is too short, it really is, to hold back such strong emotion. At the same time, it's hard. Where to start? I wish it were as simple as starting all over again. But, it's not. Life is tough. Life is also forgiving. I will never give up the fight. </div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-57885323768529702092010-05-12T00:33:00.000-07:002010-05-12T02:03:24.339-07:00Losing, but not Lost<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzf0yhvKTzL7BbrsVwL3CXjOhkVzN_gXzIAROPPFh2m3dQv4mQ7uXvK5tcC0Vwmw_DxNljANbkvbB0kWkF_GCqr6dDd1SPn3-gO7eWerisrWHnAizQARwErm8HU8RI3dotveZj05Tw9w/s1600/anorexia-nervosa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzf0yhvKTzL7BbrsVwL3CXjOhkVzN_gXzIAROPPFh2m3dQv4mQ7uXvK5tcC0Vwmw_DxNljANbkvbB0kWkF_GCqr6dDd1SPn3-gO7eWerisrWHnAizQARwErm8HU8RI3dotveZj05Tw9w/s320/anorexia-nervosa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470283532269321650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Is this your idea of beauty?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Anorexia. It's affecting so many people, especially young girls, these days. It makes me sad that our world has come to this - where we strive to be thin, thin, thin. Every ad I see these days tells us how to "lose those last 10lbs" or how this product is "fewer calories". It's ridiculous! Society has created this "model" person that, apparently, everyone should fit into. Turn on your tv and you see shows like the Biggest Loser and America's Next Top Model that say to me: you want to be glamourous, happy, successful then lose weight! You flip through any popular magazine and it's the same. People are led to think that everyone should look this way. There are 20 supermodels out of about 7 billion people on this planet. How can such an infinitesimal group of people be what we strive for? The world has so much more to offer. Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Everyone is at times insecure about how they look (including yours truly). But, no one should feel so terrible about themselves that they feel the need to stop eating, over exercise, calorie count, shut themselves down... it's no way to live. It would consume you in every way imaginable. How cruel it must be to be constantly thinking of food, but not being able to enjoy it. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I see it every day where girls comment on how skinny and beautiful some girl is (like in the picture). How can they think that? How can one's mind get so twisted? None of it's worth it. In the end what will you have? You think you've gained the ultimate control, but you're in a downward spiral. You think by being skinny you're more beautiful, but all your natural beauty is really washed away. You think you'll be more popular or loved, but you've pushed everyone important away. You're not even you anymore. The disorder will destroy everything you've worked for and will take away the life you do deserve - a full, long, and happy one. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Fuck the media. Fuck the media who promotes such vile. Sure, you'll sell some product but at what cost? It's literally taking someone's life away. This killing need to look perfect is dysfunctional and unavailing. It's sick. It makes me feel rotten down to the core simply thinking about it. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Some people see this disorder as something that can have a quick fix. But, that couldn't be further from the truth. And then there's the "everyone's-a-therapist" thing. People think they know better than professionals who have gone to school for sooo many years and actually know what they're talking about. Good intensions can sometimes be harmful, especially with mental health. Small comments can feed into an anorexic's way of thinking. The mind is a fickle thing.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">This obsessive need to be thin affects so many people, not only those suffering directly from it. Families are torn apart, relationships poisoned, and friendships lost. Why can't we just be happy with the body we have? Why can't we look into the mirror each day and see a beautiful person staring back, regardless of weight? Why can't we imagine, for a moment, a life without having to worry about counting calories or working out all the time? </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">I'm learning to love myself and I want others to do the same. Everyday I get stronger, happier, more full of life. And, it's all without dieting, obsessive behaviour over food and exercise, or starving myself. I want to teach others about obtaining a positive self-image - specially young people who are particularly impressionable. I've learned that you have to learn to love yourself before you can love somebody else. Nobody looks after you better than you do. Also, life is too short to worry about "fitting the mould". Why would you want to be a part of something that makes you want to change who you are? Shouldn't it be enough to just be... you?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">The answer is yes. You are gorgeous. We all posses the potential to be beautiful. The only way to achieve it is to not try to. So, go out and live your life. </span></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-85607468234727766622010-04-23T23:46:00.000-07:002010-05-12T02:27:23.213-07:00waiting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit39iCUZ9H8PazcPqm6n8o4bEounkC-eLql77b98W98sd-pJuGTSKeY2iJ1bfBF69JJ2m6HxzTCVcG3MyUCRkulsxWBJI-KqmDJsyagPubL9BWtGeFye_em21jOW5UCxyepMKSh0Yqs0/s1600/waiting.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit39iCUZ9H8PazcPqm6n8o4bEounkC-eLql77b98W98sd-pJuGTSKeY2iJ1bfBF69JJ2m6HxzTCVcG3MyUCRkulsxWBJI-KqmDJsyagPubL9BWtGeFye_em21jOW5UCxyepMKSh0Yqs0/s320/waiting.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463597464485763970" /></a><br />one month. four weeks. thirty-one days. it doesn't matter how you put it, it's still time past. I'm still here, but my mind is in a different place now. my heart is always with you, but it was never mine to keep anyway. how many more months must slip away before I get it back? two, three, forever? I can't seem to forget you, but can I ever forgive you? Sometimes, I don't see the point. Why reopen the wound? I have the answer: despite everything, I still love you. And, not in the same infatuated way I did before. this is something else, a more compassionate sort-of love. she may have you in taiwan, but I have you in my soul. and that is something you can never take away.sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-24311717620694688132010-04-06T00:08:00.000-07:002010-04-06T00:35:48.269-07:00Gone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmdvCZ2QqM0JJhVolwmBi6aLKZJ9MCXQje-ODIjYp2X3rxmVdpwL4XsSLAa3iDjfVXU0BQ3-_qsc_3HSpDI5CAWQa36LC4u0jLza3gYXDhq5Rld3wkfGRt_geLqnp4yR1e6hIiDevaZA/s1600/alonegirlocean.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmdvCZ2QqM0JJhVolwmBi6aLKZJ9MCXQje-ODIjYp2X3rxmVdpwL4XsSLAa3iDjfVXU0BQ3-_qsc_3HSpDI5CAWQa36LC4u0jLza3gYXDhq5Rld3wkfGRt_geLqnp4yR1e6hIiDevaZA/s320/alonegirlocean.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456918089999910178" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Dreaming with a broken heart is never easy. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You wish they would be there when you wake up. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You reach out and they're not there. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">In your head you replay the moments over and over like a broken tape recorder. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">In the end it's the same. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You try to forget. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You see them where ever you go - the grocery store, work, school, the walk home. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You feel them. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Waiting on a call that will never come. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You try to understand, but get nowhere. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You try to hang on to the good, but can still feel the sting of yesterday. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">You try to move on. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Red eyes and somber look. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Drag your feet and fake a smile.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Going through the motions, but you're not aware. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Was it ever worth it? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">The pain is numbing, but it won't last long. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">A bitter taste left in your mouth. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Learning to live. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Learning to love. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Finding a strength you never thought you had. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">They're gone.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Taking it day by day. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Fading memories can be haunting. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Scars remind us of wounds they inflicted. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">Face it - they're gone.</span></div></div>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-52572818340738932422010-03-24T14:32:00.000-07:002010-03-24T14:58:15.555-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0SQaAAxvYfw8lRgWAYGFgcLtfEzof9F9V4RhZ22xJZTC5mV7TaiSMLpzArs6nziIEV6rpRB-IfXE6kWIq295T4TfC4O3_rfohyj8RmiutKUueIsCkVBQPXc57oIu-mjJP5EP4TVQTks/s1600/21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0SQaAAxvYfw8lRgWAYGFgcLtfEzof9F9V4RhZ22xJZTC5mV7TaiSMLpzArs6nziIEV6rpRB-IfXE6kWIq295T4TfC4O3_rfohyj8RmiutKUueIsCkVBQPXc57oIu-mjJP5EP4TVQTks/s320/21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452316717347779794" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"></span>Reality - staring at you square in face. It's there and always has been. Then, why do we choose not to believe? Why do we make excuses, turn the blind eye, and pretend like things are different? You can try to run from it, but as you round the next corner there it is. It hits you hard in the chest; you can scarcely breathe.<br />Our mind is a fickle thing. It can play tricks on us and force us to believe what we want to - almost a protection mechanism. Because, if we were to see the truth it might break us. And would we choose to believe it even if we knew it be true?<br />The time had come to face reality. It's been a long and windy road, but finally we're here. Realization. In order to set your mind free you must acknowledge it. You will weep. You will scream. You will put up a fight. But, in the end the pain will subside and you will finally be free.<br />Life goes on; it's inevitable. You can either choose to go with it or be stuck forever. An unchanging spiral of somber. You will not be stuck.<br />Facing this is the hardest thing you've ever had to do. But, you've shyed away from it for too long. Time to stand up for what is right; for what is true; for yourself and wellbeing. You will not be pushed around any longer. You are no one's second choice and you will not be taken for granted.<br /><br />So long, reserved and submissive self. Make way for a better, stronger you.sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-14983349545309080832010-03-20T01:15:00.000-07:002010-04-20T12:12:31.660-07:00memor vivo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOVhUD7vQ3AvF-NjJo5rKj6OoN8Z_dx0pZPUP6Spql5vzBxAswzvqpMlbE-2WgckMsO7x_7K-2jbIPW0qSLcMBY2fknoGtfYhJXvl-hnfmc_fMZRs3vw9N2_3_sBIFLF3kmTj7EBllvQ/s1600-h/31.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOVhUD7vQ3AvF-NjJo5rKj6OoN8Z_dx0pZPUP6Spql5vzBxAswzvqpMlbE-2WgckMsO7x_7K-2jbIPW0qSLcMBY2fknoGtfYhJXvl-hnfmc_fMZRs3vw9N2_3_sBIFLF3kmTj7EBllvQ/s320/31.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450629566284948754" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Do you ever feel like things are falling apart... you don't know if you can go on or if things can ever get better? At times you may feel like those you love are leaving you and might not return. At times you might want to give up because it's not worth it; you're not worth it. You might make a few mistakes that you're unsure can be mended</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">. And, you might want to hide, weep, and shut yourself off. There are times you forget to laugh, to smile, to play. These days are filled with sorrow, broken heartedness, regret, and defeat.<br /><br />Don't give up. These days will pass. In time, you will feel the warmth and carefree spirit of life. Embrace it like a long, lost lover. You WILL move on, and your life will be bigger and better than you could have ever imagined. Every dark night brings a new dawn - a chance to start over. You're mistakes are only lessons learned. You are stronger because of them. In the face of fear, you will prevail victorious. There's no regret; no pain. You will defeat your demons and face new ones with more vigour and courage than you ever had before.<br /><br />Those who sought to bring you down are not worth your time or energy. You should never have to prove yourself to anybody. Just... be. You may not know who you are, but you know who you want to become. Don't let others get in your way in becoming that person. You are a beam of light, a ray of sunshine. You will light up the life of others with yours. Dance naked in your living room. Laugh often. Smile always. Play with the jovial air of youth.<br /><br />But most of all: memor vivo - remember to live.<br /></span>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5865887253946248339.post-61968837030358548852010-03-18T22:54:00.000-07:002010-03-18T23:21:53.295-07:00Speeding Trains<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTVzX873JDQ8vufqtKA1UVbJUGanpaHjACfGZ2hXP5lskJaNxjzEwvgxAvOPoXzLrldhxVtoLIbjdSj8YdCIoQkgLgv7cAFQgUWpidwTOHDSTEuywZSK8giNrcE8FDoIgZZimd6jQ1H0/s1600-h/rail-speeding-train-at-sunset__l1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTVzX873JDQ8vufqtKA1UVbJUGanpaHjACfGZ2hXP5lskJaNxjzEwvgxAvOPoXzLrldhxVtoLIbjdSj8YdCIoQkgLgv7cAFQgUWpidwTOHDSTEuywZSK8giNrcE8FDoIgZZimd6jQ1H0/s320/rail-speeding-train-at-sunset__l1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450220075805487026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;"></span></span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="font-family: courier new;">Life is like a speeding train. Look out the window a moment and you'll see a vast field of wheat. Look again and you'll find a towering mountain or a placid lake. Such is life - ever changing.<br />It may, at times, feel like the train is out of control and headed for sure disaster. You don't know when the ride will be over or even where it's taking you. There are bends, twists, and tunnels. And on this train passengers seemlessly come and go, but you remain. You are the conductor, the steward, the passenger. The trains goes where you steer. Your only map is in your heart.<br />If you're ever on the train and happen to see me, don't be shy - stay awhile. We'll have tea, talk of the weather, and maybe play a game of cards. And, who knows, maybe we'll be headed for the same destination.<br />Life is a speeding train. Enjoy the ride.<br /></span></span>sashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01373023407459146325noreply@blogger.com0