<?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-5994429527807898054</id><updated>2011-07-08T03:49:24.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Make it mine</title><subtitle type='html'>Pieces of my mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-4178760345229170610</id><published>2010-08-01T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T14:08:50.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why live?</title><content type='html'>When we are so small, so insignicant. Our presence is the mere result of a chain of casualties... We're &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; to the Universe... are we?&lt;br /&gt;I guess you could say you can live to be happy. I think it's most people's choice, but it doesn't really satisfy me. Sure, you're happy, and? That's it? Like happiness could be "achieved" - real &amp; absolute happiness is only felt rarely and for a very short time. It gets mixed with other ugly ingredientes later.. However, I think people are happy when they feel fulfilled. If they feel fulfilled after doing 'productive' things, then I guess living could be useful, at least to that person &amp; the ones close to him/her. Why does living have to be useful? Why does everything have to 'useful'? Why can't things just.. be? And if people are happy when they are fulfilled.. that feeling also lasts for a short time- they're hungry for more then. So people would never be completely fulfilled, meaning that in a way, they'd live forever, because they'd never die, they'd never reach that objetive of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;They would have been wrong from the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... again: Why live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I really wish I didn't have these thoughts sometimes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-4178760345229170610?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4178760345229170610/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-live.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4178760345229170610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4178760345229170610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-live.html' title='Why live?'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-204523887039553098</id><published>2010-07-30T14:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T14:55:44.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you love me when I'm gone..? ♫</title><content type='html'>I thought I'd finally understood why he loved me, but.. really.. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sometimes I think I'll die alone&lt;/span&gt;. Who would like to lie with something like &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;? I know he does, right..? I think.. I believe him when he tells me things, but when he's not with me anymore, I can't help but doubt it.. especially after my attitudes..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-204523887039553098?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/204523887039553098/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/07/will-you-love-me-when-im-gone.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/204523887039553098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/204523887039553098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/07/will-you-love-me-when-im-gone.html' title='Will you love me when I&apos;m gone..? ♫'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-727176817301137247</id><published>2010-05-10T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T14:20:14.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You're perfect to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;- Could you please tell me what the fuck is perfect about me? That I'm jealous, questioning, full of fears, that I-&lt;br /&gt;- Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You're all I ever wanted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and still, I just can't get through my head what the hell is so great about me. Why he loves me and not someone else. There're so many better girls than me.. prettier, funnier, whatever.. I'm not 'arguing' against his loving me, obviously, but.. why &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;? Why not someone else? &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I don't get it&lt;/span&gt;. I know I'm quite crazy and abnormal, no-one can deny &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;.. but that doesn't make me worth of him or of his love. I'm jealous, complicated, impatient, lazy, boring, &amp; so much more.. why and how can he not just bear with me, but actually &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;want&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-727176817301137247?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/727176817301137247/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/05/love.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/727176817301137247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/727176817301137247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/05/love.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-5214610286549057587</id><published>2010-03-31T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T13:44:18.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss you.</title><content type='html'>I've already 'used' that song, but whatever... I miss you &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow... I need tomorrow to be today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-5214610286549057587?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5214610286549057587/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5214610286549057587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5214610286549057587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-8725369138896724077</id><published>2010-03-04T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T16:48:09.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I lay here...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I just lay here&lt;br /&gt;would you lie with me&lt;br /&gt;and just forget the 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/5994429527807898054-8725369138896724077?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/8725369138896724077/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/if-i-lay-here.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/8725369138896724077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/8725369138896724077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/if-i-lay-here.html' title='If I lay here...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-1780625737582494302</id><published>2010-03-04T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T08:35:24.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Risks.</title><content type='html'>So, I guess I'm not worth taking a risk, uh...? Well, what did ever make me think that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; worth it? Oh, wait, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;. With all due respect, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fuck you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that wishing for something is never the same than having it right in front of you, but.. you could've started doubting a little sooner... you could've thought twice before saying all that stuff, if in the end, you were still gonna doubt it...&lt;br /&gt;at least my self-esteem is where it belongs now :) (nowhere)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-1780625737582494302?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1780625737582494302/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/risks.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/1780625737582494302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/1780625737582494302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/risks.html' title='Risks.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-5260071755551949553</id><published>2010-03-02T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T14:41:21.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hugs.</title><content type='html'>I had never, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt;, in my whole life, asked for one. Now I have done so, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;twice&lt;/span&gt;, not directly, but I have.. and he gave me one, so he owes me another one now.&lt;br /&gt;I spent so many years wishing for someone to give me one.. but I could never ask for one, I'm not sure why.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the point is.. I spent so much time longing for one, and I felt like it never came.. and now that it did... shit, it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; worth the wait. And that was only one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-5260071755551949553?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5260071755551949553/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/hugs.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5260071755551949553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5260071755551949553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/03/hugs.html' title='Hugs.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-4158005555245782497</id><published>2010-02-27T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T11:58:42.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you do it...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do you do it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Make me feel like I do  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do you do it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's better than I ever knew  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Meet me in outerspace  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I will hold you close, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you're afraid of heights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...You're a mountain that&lt;br /&gt;I want to climb&lt;br /&gt;not to conquer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;but to share in the view&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny that Incubus (and not another band) reflects so apropiately my feelings :)&lt;br /&gt;We're going at a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; slow pace, but.. I guess I can keep up to it. Even if it can be frustrating, I guess we're going in the right direction... and it'd be totally worth the patience &amp;amp; time it seems it'll take.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-4158005555245782497?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4158005555245782497/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-do-you-do-it.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4158005555245782497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4158005555245782497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-do-you-do-it.html' title='How do you do it...?'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-1324513224877727984</id><published>2010-02-19T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T17:19:52.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You do something to me...</title><content type='html'>...that I can't explain...&lt;br /&gt;...so would I be out of line...&lt;br /&gt;...if I said... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I miss you&lt;/span&gt;...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ehv_liyfSrA&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ehv_liyfSrA&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get close to him... but I'm scared, I'm afraid...&lt;br /&gt;I have no experience in this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;at all&lt;/span&gt; and yet I'm expecting so much.. I think my standards are too high for anyone, really.. but if it's not him, then who...? I didn't think there'd ever be someone before meeting him, so I shouldn't think this way.. But really, it's so rare.. I don't want to ruin this... He makes me smile.. at anytime.. but what if when he really gets to know me, he doesn't want me anymore? What if there's no &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'dark side&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to him? I know, we've all got it... but he just seems so simple, so happy.. probably because I barely know him.. but what if I ruin him..? I don't want to make mistakes, I don't want to hurt him or do anything wrong with him.. but there's no way I won't make any mistakes..&lt;br /&gt;...I don't like this... I just want to see him and hear him laugh and be happy with him.. but I'm probably asking for too much... why the hell would someone like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; deserve someone like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;? I'm just so wrong, while he's so right...&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could see him again.. I need to find some excuse, something really tempting that he can't refuse... I don't know what to do.. I want to tell him, but face-to-face, I'm sick of being a coward.. but even if I see him, will I be able to tell him? I'm so stupid.. I don't even have a right to like him, and yet I can't help it.. I can't see how anyone could...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="qt0361394"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000197/"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;- I've got a really great compliment for you, and it's true.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;...I'm so afraid you're about to say something awful.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't be pessimistic, it's not your style. Okay, here I go: Clearly, a mistake. I've got this, what - ailment? My doctor, a shrink that I used to go to all the time, he says that in fifty or sixty percent of the cases, a pill really helps. I *hate* pills, very dangerous thing, pills. Hate. I'm using the word "hate" here, about pills. Hate. My compliment is, that night when you came over and told me that you would never... well, you were there, you know what you said. Well, my compliment to you is, the next morning, I started taking the pills. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't quite get how that's a compliment for me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;b style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000197/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;- You make me want to be a better man.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-1324513224877727984?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/1324513224877727984/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-do-something-to-me.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/1324513224877727984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/1324513224877727984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-do-something-to-me.html' title='You do something to me...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-9220877355604079913</id><published>2010-01-14T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T14:10:50.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Qué bronca...</title><content type='html'>Deberías ser &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;vos&lt;/span&gt; el &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;muerto,&lt;/span&gt; no &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;él.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Lo &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;último&lt;/span&gt; que te merecés es una bonita jubilación, un buen dinero por mes, unas lindas vacaciones y cada tanto una feliz visita.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Tendrías que estar en el &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;infierno&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pudriéndote &lt;/span&gt;poco a poco bajo la tierra.&lt;br /&gt;Pero no, estás acá para seguir cagando vidas... Lo bueno es que esta vez la jodiste a la otra perra. Qué lindo, pero &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;qué lindo &lt;/span&gt;saber que ella también cobró por sus forradas y, mejor aún, de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tu&lt;/span&gt; parte. A ver si así aprende un poco...&lt;br /&gt;Y no sé, supongo que como le tocó a ella, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ya te va a tocar a vos ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menos mal que nadie es inmortal. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No puedo esperar a escupir tu tumba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y no, sabés qué? Aunque vos y tu asquerosa gente piensen que así van a lograr derrumbar más de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;una década de trabajo&lt;/span&gt;, tengo la perversamente feliz noticia de que NO, cerrar la empresa &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no va a quitar todo ese trabajo.&lt;/span&gt; Porque soy su hija, porque mamá me va a seguir contando como se rompió el orto laburando por lo que quería y &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cómo LO LOGRÓ&lt;/span&gt;. Cerrar la empresa no es algo más que económico, burocrático... Su fuerza, su esfuerzo, su valentía, quedan en mi mamá, en mis hermanos, en mí, en todos los que lo conocimos. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;¡NO LOGRÁS NADA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-9220877355604079913?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/9220877355604079913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/01/que-bronca.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/9220877355604079913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/9220877355604079913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2010/01/que-bronca.html' title='Qué bronca...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-8860471065170739714</id><published>2009-12-31T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:14:47.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year.</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year! Have a great 2010! Let's hope this next year is the best ever!! Yeah!! Wooh!! Blablablabla!!!&lt;br /&gt;I don't get why people make such a ruckus over new year. Tomorrow, is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just another day&lt;/span&gt;. Nothing is going to really change except those two numbers in the calendar. Shouldn't we be as excited as we're for tomorrow and the rest of the year, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; day? The change in the number of the year doesn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; mean anything. It's just something many people hold on to to make lots of wishes and all that. It bothers me.&lt;br /&gt;If at least the end of the year &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; mark something... some change... but it's actually pretty incoherent. I mean, we measure time &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; Christ (religion). We say a year is the time it takes the Earth to go one full round around the Sun.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; wtf?&lt;/span&gt; That doesn't make sense. We're mixing science with religion. Unless you believe the Earth started going round the Sun when Christ was born. Then, it does make sense... but I doubt you believe that. Years were "made" only for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;So really, it's just a very incoherent thing. If at least this was a reason for people making good things, well, it'd have something good to it. But all people do is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;talk&lt;/span&gt;. They all say they wish for the following year to bring peace, love, hope, money, health, etc. etc., but they don't do one fucking thing to make any of that come true. So it's just a very incoherent and hypocritical holiday. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you have a great day tomorrow, and the next day, and the following one, etc etc for the rest of your life :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-8860471065170739714?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/8860471065170739714/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/8860471065170739714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/8860471065170739714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-year.html' title='New Year.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-4533347134689943025</id><published>2009-12-30T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T12:26:01.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth it.</title><content type='html'>Fuck it. You know what? I'm tired of crying, of missing him, of wanting him back. He's gone and that's it. So I'm gonna make every fucking second of his life worth it. I'm going to work my ass off and I'm going to be the best at whatever I want, the same way in which he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Szu3Pj04K8I/AAAAAAAAABo/0UmooUHGxwE/s1600-h/n45205223367_1637535_6674.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Szu3Pj04K8I/AAAAAAAAABo/0UmooUHGxwE/s320/n45205223367_1637535_6674.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421128054413470658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you ♥.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-4533347134689943025?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4533347134689943025/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/worth-it.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4533347134689943025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4533347134689943025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/worth-it.html' title='Worth it.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Szu3Pj04K8I/AAAAAAAAABo/0UmooUHGxwE/s72-c/n45205223367_1637535_6674.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-4266833871730860187</id><published>2009-12-29T10:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T10:31:31.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rev: crazy forever!</title><content type='html'>The Rev has died. He fucking died. But you know what? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He hasn't left us.&lt;/span&gt; That's an important thing to remember. He didn't leave us, only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;his body&lt;/span&gt; has. His talent, his passion, his crazyness, everything he was, is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still with &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; us.&lt;/span&gt; The way in which he and the band changed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;, won't go away just because he isn't with us anymore -physically-. Everything he means to me... remains the same. Nothing will change. Yes, it sucks that he died because I'll never be able to meet him and thank him properly, because I'll never listen to him play live, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt;, because I won't be able to hear those fucking amazing songs he &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could have&lt;/span&gt; created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;However,&lt;/span&gt; I have those fucking amazing songs he &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;write and record and share with all of us. I have the recordings of all those marvellous concerts they played. I have the memories of those who were able to meet him and listen to him, face-to-face. I have everything he gave and what he didn't give, too. I have all of him, and luckily we can all get to it, we can all google it or youtube it or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SzpJl0UgUdI/AAAAAAAAABY/MJxsexDSIEk/s1600-h/therev%C3%A7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SzpJl0UgUdI/AAAAAAAAABY/MJxsexDSIEk/s320/therev%C3%A7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420726015542448594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thank you ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;We &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PS: Like he hadn't been awesome enough... LOOK AT THIS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/37nHAGLqAMM&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/37nHAGLqAMM&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Yes, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HE&lt;/span&gt; asked for the fucking flag :DDDD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-4266833871730860187?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4266833871730860187/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/rev-crazy-forever.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4266833871730860187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4266833871730860187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/rev-crazy-forever.html' title='The Rev: crazy forever!'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SzpJl0UgUdI/AAAAAAAAABY/MJxsexDSIEk/s72-c/therev%C3%A7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-7191242468197132123</id><published>2009-12-16T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T14:47:18.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm on the outside looking in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...I turned my back on myself again... I got to turn my world around, cos it keeps on knocking me down...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hw5j6pfADk4&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hw5j6pfADk4&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't be part of anything, can I? I'm always late... Why? Okay, there's at least one group of people who I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;somehow&lt;/span&gt; feel comfortable being with, and I have fun and it's nice. But what about the rest?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the argentinian Avenged Sevenfold Street Team. A small group of people. You'd think that after a few months, you'd feel part of it. Nope. I've probably been in it for a year (maybe a little more) and I still feel as awkard as the first time I met with them. I've also thought about 'quitting' it, but I decided Avenged Sevenfold deserved a little help from me, after all they've done for me.. (even if they have no idea about it).&lt;br /&gt;Then, there's this forum. I already knew that most of the users there were already friends from another forum, but I thought I'd be able to become part of the group. Wrong. I heard about it from some friends. This forum is about a book saga. They talk about the characters &amp;amp; everything even outside the forum, but I'm never talked to about it. I 'disappeared' from that forum for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;months&lt;/span&gt;, and when I came back, nobody noticed (and it's not that I never posted or anything).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? This and many other reasons are why I feel like I was a ghost or something. I'm there, I'm here, people know me... but it's almost like they didn't remember me. (My ex-classmates, from Primary school, have been organizing to get together this weekend for a few days now. Nobody remembered to invite me, except for someone who sent me a message today.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after all this that always comes to my mind from time to time, since I've always felt like this, I leave you with one of my favorites songs that always makes me remember why I have to be hopeful :) Wait for me, California! I'll get there, even if it'll be in a few years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFe0eiVH6sw&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wFe0eiVH6sw&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-7191242468197132123?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7191242468197132123/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-on-outside-looking-in.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7191242468197132123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7191242468197132123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-on-outside-looking-in.html' title='I&apos;m on the outside looking in...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-4489063535349057715</id><published>2009-12-10T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T17:13:03.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Same old feelings...</title><content type='html'>Podría desaparecer y &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nada&lt;/span&gt; cambiaría. Tal vez... bueno, sí, en casa sí. Pero nada más. El resto sería igual... seguramente un "che, Teff está re desaparecida, ¿no?", "Sí, mal"; y ahí quedaría. Nada más...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...pero bueno, todavía estoy acá, así que haré lo posible por disfrutar al máximo mi estadía... ^^u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-4489063535349057715?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/4489063535349057715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/same-old-feelings.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4489063535349057715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/4489063535349057715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/same-old-feelings.html' title='Same old feelings...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-7396933277994466972</id><published>2009-12-08T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T17:11:00.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiero.</title><content type='html'>Quiero cagarme de hambre. Quiero sufrir. Quiero preocuparme. Quiero saltar. Quiero gritar. Quiero emocionarme. Quiero llorar. Quiero crear. Quiero inspirar. Quiero imitar. Quiero que me imiten. Quiero hacer llorar. Quiero hacer sufrir. Quiero hacer que los demás griten &lt;s&gt;conmigo&lt;/s&gt;. Quiero hacer soñar. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quiero saber que hice sentir lo que me hicieron sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QUIERO QUE TODO GIRE EN TORNO A LA MÚSICA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In English: I want to fast. I want to suffer. I want to worry. I want to jump. I want to scream. I want to get excited &amp;amp; emotional. I want to cry. I want to create. I want to inspire. I want to imitate. I want to be imitated. I want to make others cry. I want to make other suffer. I want to make others scream &lt;s&gt;with me&lt;/s&gt;. I want to make others dream. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want to know that I made others feel what I've felt. &lt;/span&gt;I WANT EVERYTHING TO REVOLVE AROUND MUSIC.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Just that ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tasGnNG3wgc&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tasGnNG3wgc&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Another night follows the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Like a child does to its mother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And everywhere I look, I see your face &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; On the face of others&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I can't escape the pain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; All the questions I went through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I never told myself the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I turned my back on you and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Cause &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I was scared to see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That we weren't who we used to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; So now I'm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt; But I can't seem to loosen my grip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Let you go, go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I feel an emptiness inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; A part of me already died&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; When I pretended to go on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Like everything's ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Then all we built began to fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; As I began to lose it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; I shut my eyes and set me free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; Cause I was scared to see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; That we weren't who we used to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt; So now I'm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; But I can't seem to loosen my grip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Let you go, go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You're all that I ever wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You're everything that I need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But now it's finally over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Time for goodbyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I need it so now I'm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But I can't seem to loosen my grip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Trying hard to let go, let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Let you go, go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'm trying hard to let go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; let you go, go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just to make it clear, in my case, this isn't about 'love'; it's about me &amp;amp; my best friend. Yeah. It sucks. I just hope that we can re-build our relationship; we've both changed... so much. At least, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; have. Her? I don't know. I haven't talked with her long enough in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; these months to be able to tell, so I'm basing my opinion in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;brief&lt;/span&gt; moments we've had... And yes, all this might sound so exaggerated but she helped me so much, she made me feel &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;understood&lt;/span&gt;, something that no-one else could... She wiped that terrible loneliness I felt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt; to depend on others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-7396933277994466972?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7396933277994466972/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/quiero.html#comment-form' title='5 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7396933277994466972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7396933277994466972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/12/quiero.html' title='Quiero.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-5601942180190627556</id><published>2009-11-23T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T13:30:55.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Notebook.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-Fk140DI/AAAAAAAAAAc/uROuMzd6NcM/s1600/Imagen035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-Fk140DI/AAAAAAAAAAc/uROuMzd6NcM/s320/Imagen035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407413674354200626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I bought this notebook around 5 or 6 years ago, for a classmate's birthday... and I kept it for myself. I know, a horrible attitude.. but hey, I was like 10 years old and instantly fell in love with it, but had no other reason to buy it than that birthday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;From time to time, I'd find it one more time and look at it again, but I always put it away once more because I didn't know what to use it for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Until yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-2wvSa2I/AAAAAAAAAAs/BqZkIESqKcY/s1600/Imagen037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-2wvSa2I/AAAAAAAAAAs/BqZkIESqKcY/s320/Imagen037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407414519361334114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes, I've finally written something on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I really like what I wrote :D I might copy it here later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-mC1_puI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6qb-g-pOSqs/s1600/Imagen036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-mC1_puI/AAAAAAAAAAk/6qb-g-pOSqs/s320/Imagen036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407414232163526370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-5601942180190627556?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5601942180190627556/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/notebook.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5601942180190627556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5601942180190627556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/11/notebook.html' title='Notebook.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/Swr-Fk140DI/AAAAAAAAAAc/uROuMzd6NcM/s72-c/Imagen035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-2493862100047891401</id><published>2009-10-17T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T08:32:52.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're people watching...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZjKLxFrL5Ik&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZjKLxFrL5Ik&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm just people watching&lt;br /&gt;The other people watching me&lt;br /&gt;And we're all people watching&lt;br /&gt;The other people watching we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;We're as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're all as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Just as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm just you, you're just me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt; But it's only true, if we believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well there really ain't no use in stopping&lt;br /&gt;What nobody never told me not to do&lt;br /&gt;So I'll keep people watching, watching me now&lt;br /&gt;Finding my way back to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt; We're as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're all as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;I'm just as lonely as I wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;I'm just you, you're just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;it's only true, if we believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I see so many feet going so many ways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; People passing by, they got nothing to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; All on our own, just watching and confused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt; Nobody told me what to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't stop breaking all the rules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;And I'm just people watching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt; The other people watching me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;We're all people watching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The other people watching&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We're as lonely as we wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We're not so lonely as we wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt; I'm just as lonely as I wanted to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lonely, lonely, lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've always felt lonely, ever since I was a kid. Back then, I used to be that kind of stupid person who did anything to be 'liked'. Luckily, I don't do that anymore (not that being like that was of any use anyway), but my loneliness is still the same. I wonder why... I know I have friends and family who love me very much, but... I still feel like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCW-aXU2ASA"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm on the outside looking in (...) I got to turn my world around, cos it keeps on knocking me down ♪&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and also even more like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pjj3mQ-JPU"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My soul is in a coma, but none of my friends can tell that I'm reaching out and getting nothing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Papa Roach&lt;/span&gt;= &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-2493862100047891401?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/2493862100047891401/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/were-people-watching.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/2493862100047891401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/2493862100047891401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/were-people-watching.html' title='We&apos;re people watching...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-5034574762348506119</id><published>2009-10-11T21:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T22:15:52.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion.</title><content type='html'>I don't understand how people can live without feeling passionate towards anything. I've tried- I've put myself in their shoes, I've thought about reasons or benefits that it could have... but I'm lost. I would find such an existence so terribly, so sadly, boring, dull, dead... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;empty&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I can't understand how some of my friends live their lives like that, and they're perfectly happy. Of course I don't mean that they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;shouldn't&lt;/span&gt; be, I just can't understand it. Yes, they enjoy dancing, being with their friends and going to the cinema- the usual. And that's it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's it.&lt;/span&gt; How can that be it? How can their happiness be so... limited, shall I say? I don't know if it's the correct term, but that's how I see it. I don't think there's anything they're "addicted" to, anything that makes life worth living it just to avoid losing it- be it love, life, music, art, or whatever. I think that's why they're so... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;indifferent&lt;/span&gt; when they're asked about what career they'll choose. They're like "I don't know, I could do this or that I guess...". Do they even have dreams?&lt;br /&gt;Holy sh**, I hadn't even wondered about that. I spend half of my days daydreaming (which obviously isn't healthy), but they &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must&lt;/span&gt; have some kind of dream, as crazy as it may be, right? I'm not expecting to share a stage with Avenged Sevenfold♥, but if you ask me what my dream is, I can answer without a doubt that it's being able to make music, have a band, and be able to live off it. If I asked them, I wonder if they'd know... I now feel obligated to ask them that question, and their answer will probably be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wtf?&lt;/span&gt; and a weird look, but I still have to try or I'll never know. Maybe they're just like me, scared of their dreams and so they won't share them... (I know I shouldn't be scared and I should be able to shout it to the whole world, but when I'm asked about it I keep answering "I don't know". Partially, because it's way easier to say that. It saves me a lot of "explaining"- and btw, why if somebody wants to study, for example, medicine, they don't have to say anything, yet if somebody wants to do music they have to "explain themselves"? I don't see the difference.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, what was the point of all this....? I can't remember anymore. I just know I came and wrote this because I had been thinking about it and wanting to write it for a few days but kept forgetting... hopefully tomorrow I'll remember and edit this entry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Random]: Also, I love the way in which Jason Mraz keeps inspiring me ♥ His songs clearly keep dancing around my head without my aknowledging (?) it, and so I keep getting ideas for avatars, signatures, drawings... things I seldomly (or never, in the case of digital art) did, and now I keep doing something new of the sort everyday, which is awesome :D I love to learn♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a sample:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/StK5VZNUd9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/KJeSjtO3cfI/s1600-h/avatars.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/StK5VZNUd9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/KJeSjtO3cfI/s320/avatars.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391575481111050194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least, today I woke up and wrote the following "lyrics":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Would you please&lt;br /&gt;hurry up a bit?&lt;br /&gt;But don't forget to&lt;br /&gt;watch your step&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know you&lt;br /&gt;and I'm already making requests,&lt;br /&gt;but time is ticking away&lt;br /&gt;and I'm getting behind&lt;br /&gt;all these rocks, all these traps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will we hold our hands&lt;br /&gt;and watch the sun hide&lt;br /&gt;behind the ocean,&lt;br /&gt;while a fresh breeze&lt;br /&gt;tickles our skin?&lt;br /&gt;No, I hope we won't need&lt;br /&gt;to travel to meet Heaven&lt;br /&gt;All we'll need is eachother&lt;br /&gt;A walk in the park,&lt;br /&gt;a race to the car,&lt;br /&gt;that we'll be enough&lt;br /&gt;as long as we're together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, love&lt;br /&gt;I cry for your presence,&lt;br /&gt;for your company,&lt;br /&gt;for your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ewww, it's really cheesy/corny/whateverthewordis.. Gah. Still, I want critics. Is it too cliché? and I really dislike that last part. I know I had a better idea but while writing the rest I forgot it D: Obviously this wouldn't be a "song" because it doesn't even have a structure and it's probably incoherent, too. But hey, it's a start! I still have to look all that I've written to make it better, but I still don't feel like doing it so... some other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for taking the time to read this ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-5034574762348506119?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/5034574762348506119/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/passion.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5034574762348506119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/5034574762348506119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/passion.html' title='Passion.'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/StK5VZNUd9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/KJeSjtO3cfI/s72-c/avatars.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-3515251741493752469</id><published>2009-10-07T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T14:04:15.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That's today's question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;speak&lt;/span&gt; when I have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no voice&lt;/span&gt;? Why would I scream if still noone will hear me?&lt;br /&gt;How can I &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt; when I have &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;no presence&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;How can I &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;show&lt;/span&gt; myself if I'm &lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:78%;" &gt;hiding&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;How can I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;help&lt;/span&gt; when I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can't even listen&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;How can I &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;change&lt;/span&gt; to something if I'm nothing? How can I make sense when I'm so full of contradictions?&lt;br /&gt;How can I stand up when I can't even stand still?&lt;br /&gt;How can I move when all I want is to slow down?&lt;br /&gt;How can I keep myself together if every two seconds I feel another part of me drifting apart?&lt;br /&gt;How can I be close to others if I'm closed like a pandora box?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;H           O           W           ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's what I'm going to find out.&lt;/span&gt; There's no other chance; after all, I see life as a win-win situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-3515251741493752469?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/3515251741493752469/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/how.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/3515251741493752469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/3515251741493752469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/how.html' title='How?'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5994429527807898054.post-7225499107168346703</id><published>2009-10-06T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T16:04:39.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes...</title><content type='html'>I will &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will make.&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;create&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;change&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I will&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; move&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.I WON'T LOSE AGAINST MYSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I will dream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; struggle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I will accomplish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;learn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I will &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.I will demostrate that the only limits we have are those we impose ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will &lt;/span&gt;make it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all &lt;/span&gt;MINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5994429527807898054-7225499107168346703?l=sidewinderxx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/feeds/7225499107168346703/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/random.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7225499107168346703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5994429527807898054/posts/default/7225499107168346703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sidewinderxx.blogspot.com/2009/10/random.html' title='Yes...'/><author><name>Good Old-Fashioned Lover Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00224636524626602591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j_Vz0YTnv1o/SxQoEJm-AxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/DRb2iWpV3FQ/S220/jason%26me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
