<?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-7925682525946096858</id><updated>2011-07-08T08:52:30.643-07:00</updated><category term='Summer'/><category term='State Fair'/><category term='Parties'/><category term='Emo'/><category term='Sick'/><category term='Confused'/><category term='Boyfriend'/><category term='Lost'/><category term='Owl City'/><category term='Fighting'/><category term='Hope'/><category term='Bridget'/><category term='Not Knowing'/><category term='Selgae&apos;s'/><category term='Cell Phone'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Band'/><category term='Harry Potter'/><category term='Jack&apos;s Mannequin'/><category term='Math'/><category term='Tears'/><category term='Change'/><category term='Strength'/><category term='wtf'/><category term='Camp Birchwood'/><category term='Trust'/><category term='Andrea'/><category term='Parents'/><category term='Lucy'/><category term='Gym'/><category term='Forever'/><category term='Sleepovers'/><category term='Wind Ensemble'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Leave Room For Jesus'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='Cheating'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='House Of Heroes'/><category term='Bryant'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Zero Hour'/><category term='Lies'/><category term='Faith'/><category term='New Years'/><category term='Spanish'/><category term='Pain'/><category term='Trevor'/><category term='Enriched English'/><category term='Dentist'/><category term='School'/><category term='Social Studies'/><category term='Fail'/><category term='Cutting'/><category term='Leave'/><category term='Phantom Of The Opera'/><category term='EP Eagles'/><category term='Eagle Band'/><category term='Homecoming'/><category term='God'/><category term='Doctors'/><category term='Maroon 5'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Playboy'/><category term='Band Camp'/><category term='Shiver'/><category term='Dale'/><category term='Guitar'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Proverbs'/><category term='Numb'/><category term='Computers'/><category term='Grounded'/><category term='Thinking'/><category term='Church'/><category term='Birchwood'/><category term='Laura'/><category term='Anna'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Goodbyes'/><category term='Matt'/><category term='Jared'/><category term='Time'/><category term='Hell Week'/><category term='Boys'/><category term='Lyrics'/><category term='Struggles'/><category term='Block'/><title type='text'>Untouched</title><subtitle type='html'>Just a music addict trying to find her place in the world. ♥</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-5430306187733108703</id><published>2010-07-08T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T10:34:50.727-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shiver'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maroon 5'/><title type='text'>Shiver</title><content type='html'>I want to tear you open to see what makes you tick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to find the heart that keeps beating and pumping fresh blood to your body and I want to see the bruises it has. I want to see the muscles that expand and contract to make your beautiful limbs move and I want to know where the points of pressure are. I want to bend your spine to the snapping point just to see how strong it is and I want to pinch your nerves to send waves of pleasure mixed in with pain all across your body. I want to see your stomach do flips and I want to force your jaws to form the words that I want to hear. I want to see all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to find the code to crack open your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to see your mind scramble for answers as I look deep into your eyes. I want to see you struggle to find words adequate enough to describe the way you feel, even when I'm holding the answers between my lips for you to come and find. I want your tongue to lie to me and hide each key to your heart's doors while I try to use sweet words to coax the truth from you. I want you to encrypt each phrase, each word you say to me just to see if I care enough to try and know you. I want to know all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to see the world as you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to break your head open and splatter your colorful ideas all over the sidewalk. I want to dip my paintbrush into your irises and produce a sunset with the colors that you see and I want to paint myself exactly how you see me. I want to take the puzzle pieces of your scattered mind and try to put them all together and I want my colorful language to continually pierce your skin and your defenses so that I can get inside and leave a me-shaped print on your white soul. I want to see the world through your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to fight with you every step of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to try to rip into you with harsh words and I want you to turn and throw it right back in my face when I'm wrong. I want you to hold me to the wall and demand the truth from me and I want you to break down my every defense so you can see just where my heart is. I want us to be as ugly as we can be so we can see how beautiful we really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to break into me&lt;br /&gt;as I'm breaking into you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-5430306187733108703?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/5430306187733108703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=5430306187733108703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5430306187733108703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5430306187733108703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2010/07/shiver.html' title='Shiver'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-8263806924880878436</id><published>2009-11-16T17:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T17:32:03.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>I love him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so lucky to have him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've gotten so close, and I'm so thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart's still broken, but I heal a little more every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-8263806924880878436?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/8263806924880878436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=8263806924880878436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/8263806924880878436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/8263806924880878436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/11/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-994021152508179915</id><published>2009-09-03T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T11:06:00.150-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='State Fair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack&apos;s Mannequin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Owl City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Phantom Of The Opera'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cell Phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eagle Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band Camp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hell Week'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homecoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Block'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, I'm rather neglectful of this... whoopsie. :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #1&lt;/em&gt;: Bryant. Well, we split up... it was very nice... until I found out that he totally lied to me and screwed me over... and I don't think I want the world to know, so more on that later... but I still hurt and I still feel really stupid and it sucks. We split up at band camp... so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #2&lt;/em&gt;: Homecoming. Not sure if I'ma go... at least, not 100%. If I'm asked, then of course I'll go. I have a dress that I'd wear, but still. I'd &lt;strong&gt;like &lt;/strong&gt;to have a date... and I'd like to be asked, but whatever. What happens happens. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #3&lt;/em&gt;: School. It starts in about... 5 days, and I'm not sure if I'm excited or not. Part of me is nervous for the first day and all that, but I'm also looking forward to the fresh start and not being the youngest in the fricking school. :3 I'm looking forward to Block, even though I don't know much about it. At least I'll be with friends. :) And band, too, I'm excited for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #4&lt;/em&gt;: Eagle Band. OMG. I can't believe that it's almost our first competition! Last week was Hell Week, and from Monday-Wednesday we had practice from 9 in the morning to 5 in the evening. It wasn't... horrific, but it was very tiring. And then we went to the State Fair, which wasn't actually bad. It was quite fun. :) We got to mess around a bit before playing, and it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #5&lt;/em&gt;: Cell phone!! I got one! I'm so excited! My parents told me that I'd changed a lot and grown up and worked really hard and I deserved it. That meant a lot to me, and I'm so glad I finally got one... with unlimited text... 952.649.9744 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oob #6&lt;/em&gt;: Music! I'm newly addicted to Owl City... their new CD, &lt;em&gt;Ocean Eyes&lt;/em&gt;, is the best. It's inspired me to write so many new pieces, it's insane. I love it. :) And Jack's Mannequin's &lt;em&gt;The Glass Passenger &lt;/em&gt;is brilliant as well. :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... yeah, that's all I can think of for now... a lot has been going on, and hopefully I can get back into the habit of writing this, it's quite good therapy. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Tough times don't last... tough people do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. This has been a good summer. I've learned so much, and a lot has changed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.P.S. I'm also addicted to &lt;em&gt;Phantom Of The Opera&lt;/em&gt;. Watch it, read it, love it!! It's amazing!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-994021152508179915?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/994021152508179915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=994021152508179915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/994021152508179915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/994021152508179915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/09/wow-im-rather-neglectful-of-this.html' title=''/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-4864519014125604459</id><published>2009-07-16T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T12:06:29.356-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eagle Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harry Potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wind Ensemble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camp Birchwood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Block'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm home from camp, and... wow, it was the best year I've had there. :) I'm so glad I got to go. My cabin was fabulous, I was Captain Hook in the play &lt;em&gt;Peter Pan&lt;/em&gt;, I was kind of on top of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm back, I get to see all of my friends again, and that makes me really excited- especially for marching band! We've gotten the beginning of the show, and it sounds amazing. I can't wait to get started, even though I effing &lt;em&gt;hate &lt;/em&gt;running. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently reading &lt;em&gt;The Grapes of Wrath &lt;/em&gt;by John Steinbeck, and... it's boring. Like, the plot's all right, I guess, but it's weirdly written. I'm not really a fan. But I have to read it for block next year... and yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! I went to see &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter &lt;/em&gt;two nights ago- my first premeire!! It was so cool! The special effects were incredible, and I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't make it into Wind Ensemble from the callback, but I guess that's okay. At least I'll have friends in band with me. And I'll have Eagle Band, so I think I'll be able to manage it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go, but I'll probably write later, if anyone reads this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-4864519014125604459?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/4864519014125604459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=4864519014125604459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4864519014125604459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4864519014125604459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-im-home-from-camp-and.html' title=''/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6728211694590611619</id><published>2009-06-12T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T09:06:41.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leave Room For Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wtf'/><title type='text'>Jesus</title><content type='html'>"Leave room for Jesus" is one of the things I hear most out of my friends, and it's really starting to annoy me. ARGH. JUST BACK OFF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6728211694590611619?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6728211694590611619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6728211694590611619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6728211694590611619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6728211694590611619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/06/jesus.html' title='Jesus'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6377051511491895605</id><published>2009-06-01T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T14:52:47.370-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wind Ensemble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wtf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eagle Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birchwood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band Camp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleepovers'/><title type='text'>Forever &amp; A Day... ♥</title><content type='html'>OMGiggles. An update.&lt;br /&gt;*shock and disbelief*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st oob. Bryant.&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. God. I love that kid so much... he's such a sweetie, and he really cares. It's so nice to finally have someone like him in my life. I mean, really... it's so different from all of the other guys I've dated, and I've really fallen in love with him. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd oob. Yearbooks.&lt;br /&gt;We got our yearbooks last week, and mine's already almost filled with amazing things that my friends have said. lulz. I'm getting one every year 'cause I want documentation of all my high school career, I'm such a nerd. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd oob. School.&lt;br /&gt;Is almost over, thank GOD. I mean REALLY. I'm so distracted (as you can tell, I'm writing to you), and it's going to feel so good to have all the stresses of schoolwork and shit off of my chest. I tried out for Wind Ensemble a couple of weeks ago, and I still haven't gotten the letter, and it's kind of pissing me off. It's like, POST A FREAKING LIST ALREADY DAMMIT. *rant, rave, snort* However, the Eagle Band list was posted- I'M IN. :D I'm so excited for band camp, I might just explode!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th oob. Summer.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, summer... the joyous time of year where there's no teachers, homework, you can sit back, relax- oh, wait. Not me this year. I've got Birchwood like 5 days after school gets out, then, the day after I get back Eagle Band rehersals begin... which I'm kind of pumped for, but a little anxious-I mean, I won't have played my flute in a MONTH. D: Bahh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5th oob. My abundant ingelligence.&lt;br /&gt;It's really quite abundant... need I say more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6th oob. I hate the world and all who inhabit it... a lot of my friends are really starting to annoy me; they won't ever leave me alone. Like seriously, I can't even get 5 minutes alone with ANYBODY. And I like never get to see Bryant, so it's doubly annoying. *strangle*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7th oob. Bryant's birthday. Sunday. Shiz. Dunno what I'm going to do yet, but I'm hoping that I can just spend the day with him or something- that's all I really want to do before I leave, too... *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8th oob. An epic weekend.&lt;br /&gt;This last weekend was probably one of the best weekends I've had in a while- Laura and I got together on Friday and watched the &lt;em&gt;Oceans &lt;/em&gt;movies, and it was sexy. On Saturday, we got together with her boyfriend, Alex, and Brian K at Starring Lake and hung out there. Surprisingly, my parents let me stay with her and then sleep over at her house- it was so great, we watched a million episodes of &lt;em&gt;Psych&lt;/em&gt; and I am now officially hooked on that show. [I AM A FAN OF DELICIOUS FLAVOR!] We tried watching &lt;em&gt;Twilight &lt;/em&gt;with her mom, but the DVD player died... lol. It was so nice to be able to just hang out again... and her mom makes amazing pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... that's all for now, I'm sure there's more that I'm not thinking of, but whatevah. :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Look 10 years into your future... who do you see yourself waking up next to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6377051511491895605?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6377051511491895605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6377051511491895605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6377051511491895605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6377051511491895605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/06/forever-day.html' title='Forever &amp; A Day... ♥'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-2467953327188275016</id><published>2009-05-15T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T18:07:41.804-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wtf'/><title type='text'>Remote</title><content type='html'>Okay, rewind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now fast forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAUSE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-2467953327188275016?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/2467953327188275016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=2467953327188275016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/2467953327188275016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/2467953327188275016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/05/remote.html' title='Remote'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-8291867904335827885</id><published>2009-05-05T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T16:33:24.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe.</title><content type='html'>Maybe... maybe it's all real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's all a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows, really?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-8291867904335827885?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/8291867904335827885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=8291867904335827885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/8291867904335827885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/8291867904335827885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe.html' title='Maybe.'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-4184184328810754537</id><published>2009-04-25T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T08:40:27.788-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House Of Heroes'/><title type='text'>If</title><content type='html'>So, as an update like years later, I'm addicted to "If" by House Of Heroes. Go listen to it. GOGOGO. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in recent news:&lt;br /&gt;I ran away yesterday. Again. I ended up in Bloomington. And it felt &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt;. I was so away from everything, so free, I could do what I wanted, it was so... liberating. And now I feel guilty. Because it was a stupid and immature thing to do, and I know that I should have grown up and handled it better. But &lt;em&gt;damn&lt;/em&gt;, that felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, that's all for now, I can't think very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lauren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-4184184328810754537?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/4184184328810754537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=4184184328810754537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4184184328810754537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4184184328810754537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/04/if.html' title='If'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-3115905088549075751</id><published>2009-02-27T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T09:57:36.134-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Math'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Proverbs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Reflection?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;It's the perfect time of year&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Somewhere far away from here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel fine enough, I guess&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Considering everything's a mess...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this song... it's a new addiction for me. It's &lt;em&gt;Pinch Me &lt;/em&gt;by the Barenaked Ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I could hide out under there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just made you say "underwear"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Best line ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. So Bryant and I are doing really well, and I don't think I've ever been happier with any guy that I've ever dated. :] I know, I know, I've probably said that about every guy... but I mean it wholeheartedly this time... like, it's just... different. But in a really nice way. Like, he makes me really want to be a better person... and it's going to sound weird, but I consider him one of my angels. And I'm trying as hard as I can to not get totally wrapped up in him and lose my friends, because they're important, too. And school, as well. I need to keep my mind in class, and sometimes it can prove to be a... bit challenging. Especially in math class. God. But yeah... life is improving. And it's taking work, but it is getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God is really helping me, too. I know that I haven't exactly been a "role model" as a Christian, but I'm trying to get stronger in my faith, too. I want to get closer to God, and I also want to show Bryant what it's like to have a strong faith. I know that he's cool with me being for God and everything, but I want him to get to know Jesus. But I'm not going to make him. I'm just going to be there for anything and everything. I don't want to make him uncomfortable with anything, and I'm certainly not going to force what I believe in on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, that's a rather heavy load... but I'll stop there. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness."&lt;br /&gt;-Proverbs 31: 25-26&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-3115905088549075751?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/3115905088549075751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=3115905088549075751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/3115905088549075751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/3115905088549075751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/02/reflection.html' title='Reflection?'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-5868940378312929751</id><published>2009-02-05T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:56:45.605-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Selgae&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birchwood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Ughh.</title><content type='html'>So like everyone in the fricking school is sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm one of them. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday, I made it through the school day (barely), and when I got home I like collapsed on my bed. I fought with my parents 'cause they didn't believe that I was really sick, but when they took my temperature and saw it was like 100*, then they let me stay home. I felt really bad about skipping out on church, but I didn't want to get anyone else sick. And I'd much rather go than have to stay home 'cause I feel like crap. *sigh* But I ended up sleeping for like ever... I got up at about 9-something to eat, then went right back to bed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept pretty damn well, too. Which is really good, 'cause I want to get better so I can get back to school and stuff. And I HATE feeling sick. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura was feeling crummy too, and Bryant's sick with the flu. I feel pretty awful about that... but if we're all sick at the same time, then hopefully we won't be sick again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just really glad that I'm feeling better right now. I mean, even this morning, I was feeling pretty awful. But now, I can at least sit up &amp;amp; such... and I think my parents are making me go to the doctor's, too... but not like the physical doctor. Phycologist. Guh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEE! MARCIE &amp;amp; PHILIP PLAN TO GO TO SELGAE'S TOGETHER!! They're so cute! Laura &amp;amp; I want them to date. :3 Hopefully Marcie can go... that would really suck if she couldn't. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I can't believe that like 5 days after school gets out I'm going to camp for a month... I've never been away from home that long, but I don't think that it'll be my parents that I miss a huge amount... my friends will be on my mind more, I think... but I'ma make them write to me. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. "You" will be the answer whenever someone asks me what's on my mind. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-5868940378312929751?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/5868940378312929751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=5868940378312929751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5868940378312929751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5868940378312929751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/02/ughh.html' title='Ughh.'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-994446563245220938</id><published>2009-01-28T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T14:18:26.162-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Social Studies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Math'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zero Hour'/><title type='text'>If Everyone Cared</title><content type='html'>My God. I am probably one of the luckiest girls on the entire planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I'll start with zero hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get there and I find Ian, a friend of Laura's... and I'm like "I know you! You're Laura's friend- Ian, right?" and he's like "yeah" and I say "I'm Lauren. I'm a good friend of hers. I'm kind of a creeper, but that's okay." And he laughed and walked away. It was hilarious. But yeah. So Bryant, Laura, Andrea, Lucy, people, and I were all hanging out like we usually do, and it was great. Bryant &amp;amp; I were sitting close, and it was really nice to have him just be there. And then he held my hand and I was like ♥. He's such a great kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my schedule was fucked up (yet again), and so I went to the wrong classes. :[ But today, I found out that Nathan's in my math (2nd hour), and so is Nina. God, I hate her. And apparently she's got this plan/idea- she wants to ruin my life. I actually laughed at this. I would like to see her try, and then I'd like to see how she fails epically. If she so much as looks at me tomorrow, I'ma cut her. XD Haha. She has no chance of ruining my life- I have my friends on my side. She's a gonner. But yeah. Social studies wasn't too bad, either, 'cause I have awesome people there, too. :] Lunch was... interesting. lol. Everyone decided that they wanted to sit on me today... and it was actually funny. Like Philip, Leah, and Joanne all sat on me (not at the same time, thank God!). But it's like, whenever I sit next to Bryant, it's just nice to have him there... and feel his body like against mine... it's so reassurring. *blush* But yeah. So then I had science, and I found out that Taylor, Philip &amp;amp; Bryant are all in my class! I was like 'DUDE'. :] It was awesome. And after we'd done our lab, I took Bryant's seat, so he sat next to me, and it was the first time I really looked into his eyes like that, and they're such a beautiful amber... I was almost speechless. Almost. ^.^ And when I was on the bus, Chase &amp;amp; I were sitting next to each other, and he was talking about how Bryant was gay, and I was like :[. I didn't think it was all that funny. Guh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura might get her braces off!! I hope she does for her sake. I know that she's worried about Selgae's, but I also know that even if she can't get them off before then, she'll look drop-dead gorgeous. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG. I am now addicted to &lt;em&gt;Dark Blue &lt;/em&gt;by Jack's Mannequin and &lt;em&gt;Sadie Hawkins &lt;/em&gt;by Relient K. And I've fallen in love with Staind. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's all for now... I should really do my homework... I have a shit ton of it... *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. When words become useless, just hold my hand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-994446563245220938?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/994446563245220938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=994446563245220938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/994446563245220938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/994446563245220938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-everyone-cared.html' title='If Everyone Cared'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7640619388170161128</id><published>2009-01-27T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T18:24:09.831-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zero Hour'/><title type='text'>Selgae's &amp; Bryant &lt;3</title><content type='html'>God, I have the best boyfriend ever. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Laura &amp;amp; I were talking (of course) and she texted him saying that I wanted a pair of his boxers (I did. lol.), and he wasn't like "wtf no" or anything. In fact, he brought me a pair, and he was more concerned about if they'd fit me than if he'd get in shit for giving them to me or anything! I almost died when Laura told me. :] She also told me about how this afternoon when I got out of class late, he looked really sad &amp;amp; lonely and told her to ask me where I'd been 'cause he wanted to make sure I was all right... and I melted. He's such an awesome kid!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was depressed when I didn't see him in the afternoon, though. :[ But at least I've got zero hour, though, right? :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I miss him a lot... but I love having him to miss... it's such a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need a dress for Selgae's. The one in my current profile pic was AMAZING, but I couldn't afford it... so Laura &amp;amp; I are gonna go dress shopping again soon. 'Cause I have a date, but I need a dress. Hmm... we both think that I should get a purple &amp;amp; black one. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm seriously so excited for tomorrow, it's not even funny. Yee. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta-ta for now,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If I tell you I love you... can I keep you forever?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7640619388170161128?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7640619388170161128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7640619388170161128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7640619388170161128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7640619388170161128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/selgaes-bryant-3.html' title='Selgae&apos;s &amp; Bryant &lt;3'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7712204475862939910</id><published>2009-01-26T10:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T10:24:24.265-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grounded'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Just A Thought</title><content type='html'>((I wrote this yesterday, but I was grounded so I wasn't allowed online.))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been thinking lately, and I was just wondering what it’s like to be really invisible to everyone... like really, truly invisible. I guess I’ve never really been like that, ‘cause I’m so out there, but sometimes I feel like I am. Usually when I feel like that, it’s during a class that I don’t have anyone else in (at least, anyone that’s a friend). When I’m in class and there’s nobody there, I tend to be really shy and quiet and out of the way... same thing if I’m in a class that I’m not very good at or I don’t know very well. And even though a lot of my friends are better than me in a lot of areas, I guess I don’t sweat it, ‘cause I know that I have my strengths, too... and I try my hardest to support them in their shit; I know they’d do the same for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend, I went to a church thing with Laura called “Sexy?” and we learned more about the whole sex scene and one of the questions that girls ask is “Do you see me?”. I thought that was very powerful; one could answer “yes” right away, but if you think about it on a deeper level, then it’s like... no, you don’t, really. Because if you did, then you would see my flaws and love me for them and not care if I fucked up- you would be there for me, always. If you really saw me, then you would know. We also talked about who girls go to in order to find the answer, and I think it’s sad that a lot of girls just throw their bodies away because they want to know who they are. I believe that if you leave the physical shit out of a relationship, you’ll get to know someone better than you ever would if it all was based on sex. Just because sex reveals the intimacy of physical things- i.e. the body- doesn’t mean that it’ll tell you anything about that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I’m scared of sex. It’s a big deal, and I want my first time to be really special. I know that I want to wait, but I also know that it’s going to be hard to... especially in today’s society. And even if you’re married, it’s scary. I mean, you’re revealing your whole body to another person, and you’re trusting that they’ll love you even if you have imperfections. And just the thought of being naked in front of anyone scares me. My body is MY body, and it’s very personal, and sex is supposed to help strengthen relationships; not build them or hold them together. The best gift you can give is yourself. Sex is only a piece of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. Now that that’s off my chest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it’s the end of quarter two (YES!) and on Tuesday I’m starting a whole new term- new classes included. Band is like the only class I have that’s the same. Even computer tech’s done now... and it’s like “Woah! Where’d the year go?” I can’t believe that I’m ½ way through my freshman year! I’m glad that I got my gym credits done- now I don’t ever have to take them in high school again- but I’m anxious... like, my math class is on the 3rd floor, then I have social studies, which is on the 1st, then science, which is on the 3rd. I’m gonna be running around like mad, trying to get from class to class in 8 minutes. I think that once I get used to it, though, I’ll be able to relax. I mean, I already know where two of my classes are, and I think I’ll be able to find people in my other two... hopefully. I know that like everyone’s in my social studies class. Trevor, Kerry, Kylie; just to name a few. :] But I’m pumped for that. At least I know that I won’t be alone. And hopefully I’ll be able to keep up in my schoolwork- I’m one of the only kids with like three main classes at once. D: It kinda sucks. And I don’t even have English to take my mind off of things!! *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Bryant and me... we’re doing pretty well. Everyone at lunch the other day was yeeing at me ‘cause we were holding hands. It was so nice. What an awesome kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt. My God. I’m scared for him. Like really scared. He’s grounded until like March, and it’s because of his creepass girlfriend. God, I hate her- and I don’t even know the chick! All that I know is that he’s in deep shit and his mom even hates her. But he’s changed a lot... and not for the better. I don’t like the new Matt, and neither does Laura. He’s such a dumb kid! He makes me want to kick a cat. &gt;:O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DALE AND ANNA ARE BACK TOGETHER! AND IT MAKES ME HAPPY! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so mad when they broke up. But now it’s all better, and I’m a happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that’s all there is for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll keep y’all updated. :]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Te amo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7712204475862939910?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7712204475862939910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7712204475862939910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7712204475862939910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7712204475862939910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-thought.html' title='Just A Thought'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-5075038584307518066</id><published>2009-01-21T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:26:06.149-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andrea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Selgae&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zero Hour'/><title type='text'>Te amo.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so zero hour wasn't all that I'd wanted... but it was nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I did hang out with Bryant. And Laura. And Andrea, and everyone else. But yeah, it was kind of weird 'cause I wanted... I don't even know what I wanted, but I knew that Bryant wanted to be near me, and it was nice to just know that. This is going slower than a lot of other relationships that I've had have, but it's kind of nice, 'cause the ones that went slow-ish lasted longer. And I want this to last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selgae's. God. If I don't finish this SmartMusic shit, then I can't go! D: And I know that Bryant wouldn't have his world crushed if we couldn't go, but still... I've been looking forward to this for a while. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I should do homework now. Guh. I hate finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me a snow day or give me death,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-5075038584307518066?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/5075038584307518066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=5075038584307518066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5075038584307518066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5075038584307518066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/te-amo.html' title='Te amo.'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7832767351217885157</id><published>2009-01-19T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:26:07.627-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Playboy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guitar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dentist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleepovers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Life and Love</title><content type='html'>Whew, what a night last night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Laura slept over, and it was pretty amazing. So my dad and I were fixing dinner and then when Laura got here we ate. I totally forgot that she ate meat. Wow, what kind of friend am I? *headdesk* But after that, we went downstairs and just talked about shit. And yelled at Matt because he's stupid. God, that kid is making me angry. I mean, seriously. Augh. I want to smack him. But enough about that. So we texted Bryant, too, and he didn't answer for like ever so we watched t.v. We were watching &lt;em&gt;The Girls Next Door&lt;/em&gt; and it was quite funny, actually. I mean, it's a huge honor to be a Playmate, but it's also so stereotypical, so it's bittersweet. I dunno. But anyway, I ended up asking Bryant out, and he said yes! I was so happy! :] Tomorrow at school, I'm probably gonna be like mobbed by everybody. Oh, jeez. But I'm actually pretty excited to get back- but I'm more excited that it's like the last week of the quarter. And then I've got all new classes: Math, Science, Enriched History. It's gonna be great. (That was only being 1/2 sarcastic.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today kind of sucked... went to the dentist; nothing's bad with my teeth, but I just hate going. Ugh. But before we had to go, I did get to practice my guitar a bit, which was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7832767351217885157?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7832767351217885157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7832767351217885157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7832767351217885157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7832767351217885157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/life-and-love.html' title='Life and Love'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-116822323418023792</id><published>2009-01-18T11:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:01:31.998-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spanish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Touch Me &amp; Tocarme</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Touch Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel your touch&lt;br /&gt;And even if “we” can’t be&lt;br /&gt;I need it, and I do not care,&lt;br /&gt;Just put your hands on me.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never felt like this before,&lt;br /&gt;But I want your lips on mine,&lt;br /&gt;I know it in my heart of hearts&lt;br /&gt;That this might be a sign.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Lace your fingers in with mine&lt;br /&gt;And kiss me soft and sweet&lt;br /&gt;Feel the hunger growing&lt;br /&gt;As we let our bodies meet.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel it in your body?&lt;br /&gt;Do you see it in my eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Do you want it like I do?&lt;br /&gt;Will you let the hunger rise?&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Am I really ready for this?&lt;br /&gt;It’s a whole new thing to me,&lt;br /&gt;But I sense that if I give in,&lt;br /&gt;It might just set me free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tocarme&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiero sentir tu tacto&lt;br /&gt;E incluso si "nosotros" no se puede&lt;br /&gt;Lo necesito, y no me importa,&lt;br /&gt;Solamente ponga sus manos sobre mí.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Nunca he sentido así antes,&lt;br /&gt;Pero quiero tus labios en las minas,&lt;br /&gt;Sé que en mi corazón de corazones&lt;br /&gt;Que esto podría ser una señal.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Encaje con los dedos en las minas&lt;br /&gt;Y me beso suave y dulce&lt;br /&gt;Sentir el hambre creciente&lt;br /&gt;A medida que nos permiten cumplir con nuestros cuerpos.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;¿Te sientes en tu cuerpo?&lt;br /&gt;¿Usted lo ve en mis ojos?&lt;br /&gt;¿Quieres que me gusta hacer?&lt;br /&gt;¿Va a dejar que el aumento del hambre?&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;¿Estoy realmente preparado para esto?&lt;br /&gt;Es una cosa totalmente nueva para mí,&lt;br /&gt;Pero tengo la sensación de que si me dan en&lt;br /&gt;Tal vez sólo me libre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-116822323418023792?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/116822323418023792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=116822323418023792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/116822323418023792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/116822323418023792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/touch-me-tocarme.html' title='Touch Me &amp; Tocarme'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6938726498687829138</id><published>2009-01-18T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T11:54:55.250-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eagle Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guitar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Escapar</title><content type='html'>So yesterday sucked, too. I guess it was just kind of a suckish week. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully this week'll be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm hoping to get together with Laura and have her sleep over. We haven't had a sleepover for so long, it's insane. She wants to play with my hair and makeup and stuff for Selgae's, and if all goes well, she'll get all day that day to make me beautiful. :3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to play my guitar a little bit this morning. I was suprised that I didn't totally suck again; I don't get nearly as much time as I want to to play, but I still remember how to play most of the things I've learned/taught myself. I'm gonna play more this year- I really want to get better at it while it's easier for me to learn and remember. But of course, band comes first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of band, I'm anxious for Eagle Band tryouts, even though I think like everybody gets in. I mean, I don't want to be known as the only flute that sucks or whatever... I know that I'm pretty good, but I also know that I could totally screw it up. Playing in front of people (alone, or for chair placements or whatever) makes my stomach churn. Kind of like when Danielle had to leave and she left me to play her solo in &lt;em&gt;Awakening Hills&lt;/em&gt; and I think that I kind of sucked. Laura said I did an amazing job, but I'm not so sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll put a new poem that I wrote up, too. It's called &lt;em&gt;Touch Me&lt;/em&gt;, and it was inspired by &lt;em&gt;Untouched &lt;/em&gt;by The Veronicas and &lt;em&gt;Addicted &lt;/em&gt;by Saving Abel. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6938726498687829138?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6938726498687829138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6938726498687829138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6938726498687829138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6938726498687829138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/escapar.html' title='Escapar'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7761558318140454074</id><published>2009-01-17T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T10:39:52.220-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>Other Life?</title><content type='html'>So yesterday kind of sucked. Okay, it really sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Band was cool, but it's always cool. Computer tech wasn't too hard, either. But Spanish. Woah. I had this bigass test, and I like totally blanked on it- I don't think that I FAILED, but I know that I bs-ed some of it. *sigh* But then I had english. Holy crap. &lt;em&gt;The Scarlet Letter &lt;/em&gt;test was awful! The true/false part of it was OPINIONS, too! I was like "FAIL! DIE!" And I also got an 8/18 on that damn vocab quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I hate school right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school, Laura and I went to the mall together, and we went to J.C. Penny's, and I found the most beautiful dress I could ever imagine. It was blue, strapless, and floor-length, and it fit me like a dream. But... I couldn't get it. It was $2oo. I almost cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I shouldn't feel guilty. But I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura and I were talking about Matt last night, too, and it's not pretty. According to her, he's still way not over me... and it's like... sad, because the new girl he's dating is a total bitch, and Laura can tell that she doesn't really like him... and I feel so guilty because he's changed so much, and I know that I had a big hand in it... and I think that he needs to get over me... because I love him, but I'm not IN love with him... and I guess it's possible that we could have a future together, but not now. I've moved on. I know it's really hard to get over someone, but... he's just not dealing with it the right way. I feel so bad for him, too. He deserves better, even though he's kind of turned into a royal jackass. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Lauren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7761558318140454074?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7761558318140454074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7761558318140454074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7761558318140454074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7761558318140454074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/other-life.html' title='Other Life?'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-219561928919885183</id><published>2009-01-15T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T13:37:18.481-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>Whee.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's been better, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was freaking out because I have to write an evil paper on &lt;em&gt;The Scarlet Letter&lt;/em&gt;, and I don't really get the book, so I'm kind of fucked there, but hopefully I can scrape a decent grade... hopefully. *sigh* But I got my &lt;em&gt;Romeo and Juliet &lt;/em&gt;essay into Mrs. Goertz, so at least I don't have that hanging over my freaking head. God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was pretty good. I mean, band's always awesome, and computer tech's... computer tech. Haha. Spanish was pretty good, actually. There were a lot of "that's what she said" jokes, which I am getting better at. lol. English was cool; but lunch was good, too. It was fourth hour when things started getting interesting. I have gym fourth with Trevor, Philip, Hannah, Marcie, and tons of other people, and we were playing badminton. I was rockin' out with my badminton racket guitar and headbanging and I was a frickin' hack at it. It was sexy. But yeah, I was really excited and then I was ranting at everyone about everything. Poor Bryant. The kid's heard me ranting and yelling more than like most of my friends have. He's awesome about it, though; he just stands there and listens to me. What a cool kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, yeah, I have a band concert tonight. Laura's got UMTYMP, so I'm gonna help her by getting her saxophone out and shit. 'Cause I'm that cool of a person. But I'm pumped 'cause I get to hang with people and I'll talk to Bryant. Everyone's like "OMG ASK HIM OUT" but I can't get the guts to. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Why am I so afraid to lose you... when you're not even mine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-219561928919885183?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/219561928919885183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=219561928919885183' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/219561928919885183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/219561928919885183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/whee.html' title='Whee.'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6122924536141687540</id><published>2009-01-12T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T14:30:27.715-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Years'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>New Year. Whoopee.</title><content type='html'>Well, it's a new year. Huzzah. Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm excited for it to be 2009, but I mean, it feels just like last year. Not different. Maybe it'll turn out to be good (Obama takes office, yay!), but maybe it'll suck. Ah, well, only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent New Years with the 'rents, but I won't get into that 'cause it wasn't boring, but not exciting, either. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes, I was at Trevor's last night for a party, and it was fricking AMAZING. So like everyone was there, and we watched &lt;em&gt;Shallow Hal&lt;/em&gt; and it was hilarious. Oh, yeah, and Bryant and I cuddled. He's so comfortable, and I was so happy to be with him. At one point, I just wanted to freeze the rest of the world and just stay there and listen to his heartbeat. He's the most amazing guy ever. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah... I really like him. Pretty much the story of my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIGHT. THE FUCKING &lt;em&gt;SCARLET LETTER&lt;/em&gt;. MY GOD I HATE THAT BOOK WITH A BURNING PASSION AND IT SHOULD GO DIE IN THE FLAMING PITS OF HELL. AUGH. Oh, and I have to write a frickin' essay on it (300 words!) for enriched english! And I have to re-write my &lt;em&gt;Romeo and Juliet&lt;/em&gt; paper 'cause it sucked. God. I hate school right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. I guess I'll talk later. I should start on my essay before I'm totally fucked. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6122924536141687540?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6122924536141687540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6122924536141687540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6122924536141687540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6122924536141687540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-whoopee.html' title='New Year. Whoopee.'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-4670369009663683410</id><published>2008-12-31T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T14:55:31.673-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andrea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cell Phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Years'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cutting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>New Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow, I can't believe that it's new years already. I woke up this morning and I swear to God I thought that it was tomorrow. Guess I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I haven't exactly written in a long time, so I guess I'd just update you with the latest shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all: Christmas. Christmas wasn't too horrible. I mean, yes, we ended up going down to Iowa, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. No, wait, yes, it was. First, I was in a bad mood because I was going in the first place, and then I kind of got into this fight with my mom on Christmas morning (it got physical. I hadn't eaten anything, so when we'd stopped, I felt like I was going to throw up and I laid down on the bathroom tile for like fifteen minutes), and it kind of colored the whole day for me. But other than that, it wasn't too God-awful. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a sleepover with Laura. It was pretty awesome, as per usual. We stayed up and watched &lt;em&gt;Greek&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;27 Dresses&lt;/em&gt;, and we both enjoyed staying up till all hours just talking. I find it awesome that we never get sick of each other, too. I owe that girl so much. She lets me use her cell to text Bryant, and it's actually helped a lot. When I get a cell phone, I'll make it up to her. Oh, speaking of Bryant, Laura told him that if he only liked me as a friend, that he should stop leading me on, and he's like "because one of the reasons I like her as a friend only is cuz i don't know her very wel...I love her personality...it's just I don't know her hobbies or her favorites or anything" and I felt so fluffy when I read that. It's true. We never get to talk because I'm always surrounded by my friends and stuff. Not that I don't love them, but... yeah. A cell would make my life so much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, and the cutting thing. Yeah... I did that yesterday and the day before that. I mean, for one thing, I don't get &lt;em&gt;The Scarlet Letter&lt;/em&gt;, and that's putting a lot of stress on me, and Mrs. Goertz has been so understanding and awesome to me, so I feel so guilty for not understanding it... I feel like such an idiot. Because it's not that hard of a book... but for some reason, I just... don't get it. And I should. And it frustrates me because I know that I'm smarter than that! But I still don't fucking get it. And it's driving me crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I kind of want break to be over already... because it's not like I'm enjoying myself, really... but I don't want school to start, either. Especially gym class. Hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;OH. YEAH. I ALMOST FORGOT. MATT DUMPED ANDREA ON CHRISTMAS. I AM SO ANGRY AT HIM. I MEAN, CHRISTMAS?! THAT WAS SO MEAN. &gt;:O UGH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I think I've been doing better... but I dunno... it's really embarassing, but I can't even break down in my own house because I have this creepy feeling that my friends and people are going to see it and know about it and I won't be able to handle it... it's really... creepy... and I hate it... because it's a terrible feeling... and I want it to go the fuck away. Because I'm tired of doing that. I'm tired of being afraid... and I don't even know why I am afraid, or what I'm afraid of! It's driving me nuts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't wait for the new year... though I don't know if I'm going to make any resolutions 'cause I usually forget about them and stuff... haha. I'm going skiing with Bridget tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited for that. I don't get to see her as much as I used to, so it's weird. But I love her. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I miss Laura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lauren.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-4670369009663683410?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/4670369009663683410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=4670369009663683410' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4670369009663683410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/4670369009663683410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-years.html' title='New Years'/><author><name>xx.Lauren.xx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494796250786455811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='20' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2LaXpc_OsY/SgDLwSNTanI/AAAAAAAAABk/shZVXosvaao/S220/DSCF0051.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-3179105899279578369</id><published>2008-12-11T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:18:01.443-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Numb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cutting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><title type='text'>Sentimental pt. I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have way too much on my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;First of all, I should adress the cutting issue... well, I have continued to. Last night, I went on another cutting spree, and this morning, I woke up with "NUMB" scratched into my stomach. The really creepy thing is that I have no memory of doing that... and it's just a little eerie that I wouldn't remember that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Apparently, Bridget has a new crush... and it's a senior. Has she not learned anything from me? My senior escapade ended in a broken heart for me. It's not that hard to see that freshman-senior... just doesn't work. I want her to be careful... and I miss her a lot. It's so different... now that we never see each other... and I think that we're starting to drift away...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;School is a bitch. Seriously... I mean, I just don't care anymore... and it's starting to show in my acedemics and in my social life... I'm so scared that it'll all fall apart... and that I'll lose everything and everyone that I hold close now... and I don't want that... I need my friends... so badly. Without them, I would not be here right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I talk to my friends, some of them are like, "Oh, just think about it; there's always someone worse off than you are."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;IT. DOESN'T. HELP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I do that, then I feel even &lt;em&gt;guiltier&lt;/em&gt; because I know that I shouldn't feel like this, and it makes it all worse... and it's also like when people make fun of cutting and shit. It's really not okay, and it needs to stop. Right now. Or I swear to God I'm going to fucking snap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am so close to the edge...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;so close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My parents aren't helping at all... they're always making jokes, and they never fucking take me seriously unless I start physically being there... like I grabbed my mom by the front of the shirt, and my dad took my head and hit it against the wall... &lt;strong&gt;hard&lt;/strong&gt;. I didn't cry, but it hurt a lot. No, I'm not going to say that I don't do anything, but my mom seems to enjoy provoking my reactions. And I can't just ignore it. It's not that fucking easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I wish I could believe this as much as I wanted to... but I've been dealing with all of this shit for about six fucking years, and I want it to stop... I hate this so much... but I can't do a fucking thing about it... nobody can...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I'll continue this later...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;~Lauren.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-3179105899279578369?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/3179105899279578369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=3179105899279578369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/3179105899279578369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/3179105899279578369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/12/sentimental-pt-i.html' title='Sentimental pt. I'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-1837479531447308963</id><published>2008-12-08T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:21:30.874-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Slow Dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slow Dance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;By: Lauren Elizabeth Hadlund&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The lights are low,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The music is soft and calm,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;and I love the feel of your fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tracing the delicate lines on my palm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hand is around my waist,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Holding me in so tight,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wouldn't wish for anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause it's all good tonight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I move my hand up your arm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and hug you close to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I put my head on your chest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;letting your scent set me free. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we gently sway together,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the music keeping steady&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't help but ask myself,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Am I really ready?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just dance with me tonight,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't let anyone say it's not right,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause both of us, we know it's true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And tonight I just wanna dance with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-1837479531447308963?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/1837479531447308963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=1837479531447308963' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/1837479531447308963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/1837479531447308963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/12/slow-dance.html' title='Slow Dance'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7349429252923831046</id><published>2008-12-07T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T10:29:49.255-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not Knowing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cutting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><title type='text'>Gotta Be Somebody</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't believe it's December already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time has gone by so fricking fast... it's insane how much has changed... even over one year... it's crazy how much shit my friends &amp;amp; I have gone through, and yet we've managed to stay strong and keep relying on each other. Breakups, makeups, parents... everything you could possibly imagine has been thrown at us... and yet we still manage to wake up the next day. I don't even know how we do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know if I can take this anymore, ya know? I mean, I'm always being criticized by my parents- nothing I do is &lt;strong&gt;ever&lt;/strong&gt; good enough, and then they always find something to nag me about... and it's starting to really get to me. For instance, my mother keeps telling me that my friends need me more than I need them and that I'm just a burden in their lives... and that I'm not wanted nor am I needed, and the really sad thing is that I think I actually believe her. :[ And then she has the guts to go on and talk about how "worried about me" she is. It's driving me fucking crazy! Some days I seriously would kill her if I wouldn't go to jail for it. I wish she would go off and die. I'm not really sure if I ever loved my parents... I guess I've simply tolerated them... but I can't tell... because now I'm not sure of anything... especially love... and I hate how I'm always so confused and I can't say anything that's 100% because I don't want to lie to someone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's got to stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Or I won't make it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Because I may be strong, but I'm not strong enough to keep handling this like it's coming at me. &amp;amp; I realize that, and that makes me stronger... but I have my weaknesses, too... like cutting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yesterday I cut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I used a paperclip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It still stings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But I can't stop... it's like I'm sick or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll talk more later... when I have more to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauren.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7349429252923831046?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7349429252923831046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7349429252923831046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7349429252923831046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7349429252923831046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/12/gotta-be-somebody.html' title='Gotta Be Somebody'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-5161853568487190862</id><published>2008-12-05T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T13:50:09.782-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not Knowing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lucy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forever'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Numb'/><title type='text'>*sigh*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, so today was... weird. To say the least.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This morning, I got up at like 6:50-something, and my bus comes at like 7:30, so I was a little rushed. I made it to the bus stop, though. So that was okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Band wasn't horrible, nor was computer tech... they were pretty much the same... so yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Spanish was okay, too, 'cause we had a substatute. She was rather bitchy, but she was cool to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;English was... weird... so I was happy and whatever before lunch, and then I get to lunch and there's Bryant, Chase, Jack, Liam, Lucy, and Tim. Lucy had another "panic attack" and this time, I think it was real, because she was acting differently... and Bryant thought it was fake, and told her so... and I know that hurt her. I felt guilty, because I know she fakes those a lot, and I wasn't sure what to think. She just gets up and leaves, and then when Bryant and people had to go, I was kinda... out of it, so I went up by the english room and sat in the corner and listened to my iPod. I felt like being emo, dammit. So I was. People didn't really notice me, which made me happy and sad at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Gym just sucked. We had to run the mile, and I was sick last night, so I was feeling bad enough without that on top of it. After that was over, we had the choice between a few games, and toward the end of class this one boy was in the bathroom and he hit his head on the blow dryer and was bleeding all over. I felt so bad for him- he's probably going to have to get stiches. *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I've been depressed today... and it's been weird, 'cause I was really happy earlier this week... and now I'm back being numb... I feel like... like there's a part of me &lt;em&gt;missing&lt;/em&gt;, and I don't have any idea what it is. I'm sick of not knowing. And I'm sick of my stomach being in knots whenever I think about how much I wish that I wasn't here... and I think that subconsiously, I'm trying to run myself into the ground... because I can't kill myself... I couldn't do that... so maybe I am trying to... but in a different way...? I don't know... and my friends try to tell me that they'll be there, and I think it's nice and all, but a lot of the people that say "forever"... well... aren't... and they say to just get over it and there are people out there worse off than I am, and I know that, but I can't help it that I feel... like this... and I shouldn't &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to think that. I should be making the best of this... but I can't... and feeling like there's a piece missing isn't just something you can forget about... even though I wish I could. I'm seriously sick... like, physically and mentally... and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Regretfully,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauren.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-5161853568487190862?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/5161853568487190862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=5161853568487190862' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5161853568487190862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5161853568487190862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/12/sigh.html' title='*sigh*'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-892449326124261230</id><published>2008-11-30T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T11:59:33.010-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not Knowing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andrea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Numb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Let Me Be Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I'm getting really sick of everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;My parents want me to "change the attitude" and it's like, I'm fifteen. I come with it. It's a package deal... and having shit constantly thrown at me doesn't really help, you know. It's not my fault that I'm having issues... with people... of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;People suck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So Bryant and I were talking last night and he was obviously flirting with me... and then I find out that he says he doesn't like me... which hurt more because he won't fricking tell me himself, and if he doesn't have the guts to do that, then I don't think he's worth my time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's amazing how many guys I go through... and no, I'm not saying I'm proud of it. Just within like two weeks, I went back out with two of my exes AND broke up with them... and it's so weird, because... well... *sigh*... Jared &amp;amp; I got back together and then split... and then... well... Matt was like in love with me... and I broke his heart into a thousand pieces once, and he &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;loved me... and we broke up again... and now he's going out with my friend Andrea. Don't get me wrong, I love her, and I think that they'll be cute together, but it's... weird, ya know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And Bridget and Ricardo called it quits... which, in my opinion, is really good... both of them are awesome kids, but... just not a good couple... he was making me angry... God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;School... I'm worried about it... I just... don't freaking &lt;em&gt;care&lt;/em&gt;... and it's not like I don't &lt;em&gt;want &lt;/em&gt;to care... I just... &lt;em&gt;don't.&lt;/em&gt; And I'm so sick of it. I want to have a good future, but with grades like this... I don't know where I'll end up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't believe how much I've changed... I used to be so... innocent, I didn't swear, I didn't say shit like, 'Oh my God', etc... and I was just... a little girl that didn't know what the world was... and now I'm an older teenager who doesn't know what the world really wants from her... God, I don't even know who I am anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Regretfully yours,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauren. ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;P.S. I hate myself for this... but I don't hate Bryant for this... I can't hate him... what the hell is wrong with me? :[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-892449326124261230?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/892449326124261230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=892449326124261230' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/892449326124261230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/892449326124261230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/11/let-me-be-myself.html' title='Let Me Be Myself'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6681338493112324802</id><published>2008-11-08T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T18:20:16.249-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Strength'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>Think I'm Going Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;These past few days have been awesome... and sucked ass at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wednesday: School was eh. Same ol', same ol'. When I got home, though... well, yeah. So Jared &amp;amp; I got back together, and it made me happy, but church was blah. It was a really busy week for everyone, apparently, so only a few leaders actually showed up. Katie and Piper, my 5th grade co-leaders, weren't there, so I was leading all by myself... which wasn't horrible, but I was like, this is so awkward... and then my 1st grade leader wasn't there, either, so I was like woah... this is REALLY awkward... those poor kids. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Thursday: School wasn't too epic... though Ryan &amp;amp; I did finish our Shakespeare sonnet project (a video, and the class got only 2 days to work on it), which was good. We had about 6 extra minutes after we had finished, and we were like Yeah! We finished AND with time to spare! It was funny. When I got home, I asked my mom if I could go to one of my friend's party (Annika), and she said no right away, which I thought wasn't fair, and so we argued a bit and then I ended up simply walking out the door. I had my iPod, so I knew that I wasn't going to be back for a while. In fact, I didn't think that I wanted to come back at all... so I ended up walking around the neighborhood (like, far away from the house) for two hours. It was cold &amp;amp; rainy, but it felt so damn good. I was walking along the road most of the time, and part of me kinda wished that a car would hit me so I'd die and be out of this life for good. No such luck (well duh, otherwise I wouldn't be writing now), but then I just turned around and walked home... and when I got home, I found out that my parents had called Bridget and Laura to see if they knew where I was. They didn't, of course, but Laura wasn't home, and Bridget was freaking out... I knew that was going to happen if they told her... I love her, but I knew that I'd given her a heart attack, and so I ended up calling her... she yelled at me... but I think that was just of her. She was really worried... not that I understand why... I'm not really that important... but after dinner, my dad &amp;amp; I went to go get a gift for Kerry (she was having a sleepover to celebrate her birthday, and I was going). I was actually suprised I was allowed to go, too. But I did, and it was so much fun! I'm so glad that Kerry invited me. :]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Friday: So at the party we all stayed up until like four, and it was pretty epic. We were all like high (not on drugs, though) and Lucy &amp;amp; Annika played "Strip Twister" while the rest of us almost died from laughing at the absurdity of them stripping right before our eyes. No bras or underwear came off, though, thank God. Anyway, so it was just Kerry, Marcie, Kelly, and I, and we all were getting driven home by Kerry's mom, so we ended up watching &lt;em&gt;Sailor Moon&lt;/em&gt;. It was so funny to comment on it... 'cause now that we're older, we get some of the (maybe un-intended) sexual innuendos, and once you start those jokes, they just keep on going. So when I got home, I tried asking again if I could go to Annika's, and again the answer was no... so I ended up staying home with my parents... fun, fun, fun. I talked to Jared most of the time, and it wasn't too bad... but I feel guilty about Bryant being there... I told him I would be there, and then I didn't go. (But from what I hear, he didn't seem too disappointed...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today: My parents &amp;amp; I have been fighting since I got up this morning... and it's sucked. Bridget &amp;amp; I went to the mall, and it was so good to see her again. I really miss her... it's been hard to not see her every day... but I guess I've been getting along... but life keeps throwing shit at me, and I'm only hopeful that I'll be able to survive it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Peace. Love. Music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;♥ Lauryn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6681338493112324802?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6681338493112324802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6681338493112324802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6681338493112324802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6681338493112324802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/11/think-im-going-crazy.html' title='Think I&apos;m Going Crazy'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7279122270783387717</id><published>2008-11-04T16:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:34:49.385-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not Knowing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fighting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cutting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goodbyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><title type='text'>The Weight of the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I mean, I feel so... alienated... so... loved, yet hated; so wanted, yet so unwanted... it's a fucking bad feeling, and I really wish that I could sever ties with everyone who "cares" so that it wouldn't be so damn hard to say goodbye... but I don't know if I'll be able to do that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So... today wasn't great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Neither was yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Or last weekend, for that matter. My parens and I fought, and I lost it... I ended up crying in my dark room for what seemed like days... it was bad. I actually ended up cutting again... shit. My parents don't know... but I'm in no hurry to tell them. After all, once there was blood on the carpet in front of the sink in the bathroom once, and it was not mine, and my mom's like, "Well, if you're gonna do that to yourself, at least keep it off the carpet." And so I really don't want to say anything to them... not that it would really matter if I did...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have more to say... but I must do some homework so I don't get killed by my parents- or teachers. I will say it later, then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauryn. ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7279122270783387717?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7279122270783387717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7279122270783387717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7279122270783387717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7279122270783387717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/11/weight-of-world.html' title='The Weight of the World'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6313248782827789649</id><published>2008-11-01T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T15:27:46.089-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Strength'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><title type='text'>Guiltitone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The title is from the word "guillitone". Just so you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, I went to Heather's party last night, and it was awesome. Sean was there (my 18-year-old ex), but it wasn't weird at all. In fact, we ended up acting all couple-y again... like, his arm around me, holding hands, etc. We watched the ending of &lt;em&gt;House of Wax&lt;/em&gt;, and then we watched part of &lt;em&gt;Fear.com&lt;/em&gt; before we watched all of &lt;em&gt;28 Weeks Later&lt;/em&gt;... which I actually enjoyed, even though it was really really gory. In fact, in this one scene, this guy is killing his wife (she's got the virus, but she doesn't show any symptoms, she's just a carrier, but he kissed her and got the virus from that, so he goes insane), and he's, like, putting his thumbs in her eyes and I couldn't watch that, so I turned into him and he just held me and I was feeling fluffy, but then I was okay. After that, we decided to go to this gas station, so we all walked there and then Sean, Paige, and I walked back and got back, like, ages before everyone else did, and it was hilarious. So we sit down and we watched &lt;em&gt;House&lt;/em&gt;, which totally reminds me of Jared, another ex. I mean, he, House, and I are like the &lt;em&gt;same damn person&lt;/em&gt;... just on different levels. Anyway, so we're watching t.v. and Sean puts his hand on my leg (he knows that I've drawn the lines very clearly- NO SEX), and he was, like, gently rubbing it, and it felt so good, I'm not going to lie. It was amazing. I was really sad when he had to go... so all the guys had to leave, but the girls were sleeping over, and so they were all leaving, and then he kissed me. Yes, he &lt;strong&gt;kissed&lt;/strong&gt; me. And I liked it. The only thing that was in the back of my head the whole time was Kassia... his girlfriend... :[ And now I feel kind of guilty about the whole thing... but I'm gonna talk to him about it, so we can figure this out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So the girls are sleeping over, right? Well, Heather was freaking tired, so she went to bed really early, but Jade, Paige, Amanda, and I were up until &lt;strong&gt;5&lt;/strong&gt; talking about all sorts of random shit. It was amazing. And this morning, we woke up at, like, 11:30... and we ate candy for breakfast. It was pretty sexy, if I do say so myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;When I got home, though, things weren't as fabulous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mom and I fought, I broke down... it got ugly... *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But that's all for now... I'll keep y'all updated, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauryn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6313248782827789649?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6313248782827789649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6313248782827789649' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6313248782827789649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6313248782827789649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/11/guiltitone.html' title='Guiltitone'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6264174369083623562</id><published>2008-10-31T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T13:49:01.061-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today wasn't too bad... I wore my Fedora, pearl earrings, my suit jacket &amp;amp; a black cami, a pearl necklace, a jean miniskirt, tights, and my Candies stillettos. It was pretty sexy, if I do say so myself. Haha. Anyway, so in Spanish I had to stand up in front of the class and everyone was looking at me and I was like, "Hey... how's it going?" and it was a little awkward, but not too bad. In Enriched English we were working with Iambic Pentameters, and it was pretty amazing. My friend came up with this: I can't believe that she would fuck my mom." and I almost died from laughing so hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lunch was interesting, though... Bryant seemed a little bit like he was avoiding me... and he, like, didn't really talk to me much... though he was looking at me- I caught him doing it- not that I wasn't looking at him, though. *sigh* And after, since he's got 4th lunch too, he has to leave at the same time I do, and I was like, hug? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bryant: I'm sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: *gives withering look* I've been sick. I'm not gonna get sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bryant: But I'm sick. I don't want you to get sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: I promise, I'm not gonna get sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*hug*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: I won't get sick. I promise. I bet you ten bucks that I won't get sick!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bryant: I won't bet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*end*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, I guess it made me feel a little fluffy inside... hee hee...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, and I found out that Morgan has a new girlfriend. Seriously, what is with my boyfriends getting new girlfriends within a week of us splitting?! I don't get it!! &gt;:O It depresses me! Laura says that I have, like, a disease... I can't stay single for, like, over a week. What sucks is she's kind of right. I wish that I didn't have so many guys that liked me... and no, I'm not kidding. I don't get why they like me in the first place!! Seriously! There are tons of better, smarter, prettier, and taller girls out there... but they always pick me. I don't get it. :/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I'm depressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I'll keep ya updated... but this is all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauryn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;xOxOxOxO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6264174369083623562?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6264174369083623562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6264174369083623562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6264174369083623562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6264174369083623562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/10/halloween.html' title='Halloween!'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-6214396945334519454</id><published>2008-10-30T17:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T17:37:38.293-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bryant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Dude. What A Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow, I just failed. I typed the title of the post, and then I pressed "enter"... and it saved it. God, I hate computers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Haha, just kidding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I actually love computers... o.o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, so I was just talking to one of my friends, and he's like, "I know you love Bryant." and I'm like, "wtf..." and he's like, "How long were you staring at the guy?" I &lt;em&gt;glanced&lt;/em&gt;. I did not &lt;em&gt;stare&lt;/em&gt;. I &lt;em&gt;glanced&lt;/em&gt;. Frick that. I do really like him, though... but I learned that he has a girlfriend (though she's in New York), and even though I freaking love him, I won't put him through the hell that I could. See? I am a nice person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So. I cannot believe that Halloween is TOMORROW!!! :o I mean, I knew it was coming up, but... wow! I'm gonna throw my costume together tonight. Haha. I'm going to my friend's house for a party... but, like, there's only, like, one guy I know- Chase. He lives in my neighborhood, too, and he's pretty cool. :] (I'll never tell HIM that, though!!) I'm actually pretty excited. I think we're going trick-or-treating (who gives a shit if we're in high school?!). My mom was like, "That's inappropriate. High schoolers are too old for that." And I'm like, &lt;em&gt;wtf?! FREE CANDY!!! I DON'T CARE!! HAHA!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am in a very odd mood today. So I started the day so fucking pissed that I could barely walk straight ('cause my evil parents made me go to the doctor's instead of pep band! The nerve of them!), and then I'm ending it... happily numb... which is an oxymoron, thank you very much. :P I keep going in and out of being depressed (or emo, if you really want to say that), and in class I ended up writing "What if I wanted to break", "What am I saying? You don't care", and "What r u waiting 4?" on my hand. Mom and dad didn't appreciate that much... but it was better than the time when I wrote lyrics all up and down my (left) arm. That was epic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Speaking of epic, I am beginning to plan my sweet 16... even though I turned 15 just three days ago. I mean, it's gonna be big, and I need to get started on plans right away so I can put them into action and have it damn near perfect. Haha. That's also why I'm having a friend or three help. :]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So... I think I've exhausted my mind (and my fingers) for tonight... I may add more to this, but that's all for now!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauryn. ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-6214396945334519454?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/6214396945334519454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=6214396945334519454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6214396945334519454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/6214396945334519454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/10/dude.html' title='Dude. What A Day.'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-7071374077529081991</id><published>2008-10-29T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T17:12:47.115-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Strength'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Struggles'/><title type='text'>Given Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What if you knew someone who had truly given up on life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What would you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Would you try to help them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What if they didn't want help?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What about then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Would you talk to them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;What if they were silent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;~*~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I could go on about that for a while, but I think you get the picture. I mean, it's hard to keep up with everything... school, friends, extra-cirricular activities... it's all a big part of our lives, and we're not willing to give any of it up. I don't see why we would... we have it amazingly good over here in the U.S.A... but some people don't see that. They think that they have it worse than anybody else, and their life is so horrible that they must commit suicide or whatever in order to get out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I, personally, think this is crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I know that my life sucks, but it's not as bad as it could possibly be, and I guess I can draw some comfort from that fact. I know that I know a lot of stuff that most kids my age aren't even exposed to, and I also know things that I think are useless... and I can't really do a thing about it. This is what makes me the angriest. When there's a "minor" with an opinion and all the "adults" dismiss it just because it is from someone "less experienced" than them. It disgusts me. Personally, I think that is very UN-adult-like behavior. Just because you have more "worldly experiences" than we do does not mean that we are blind to the world and everyone (&amp;amp; everything) that is in it! In fact, sometimes I find that my peers bring the situation an entirely new point of view, and it clears the mess (whatever it may be) up!&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes a person feels so stuck they resort to silencing themselves. This is horrible... every voice that is silenced is another voice that could solve a problem... or cure a disease... every single person on this planet has extraoardinary potential, and I think it's very sad when they are not given the opportunity to work with their talents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess you can say I'm a hypocrite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;...but this is why I'm writing to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I give up sometimes, and I know life is hard. Trust me, I really do. Don't ever think that I'm saying that this is easy, and please don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm trying to put myself on a pedestal for you all to look at my perfection. Trust me on this, I know that I am far from perfect. I've come to terms with that (mostly). I cry, I hurt, I'm afraid, I'm insecure, I know all of these feelings... and sometimes I wish that I could just die and get it over with so I can't feel the pain anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;But that's not the way out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know what you believe will happen after you die, and I'm not going to touch that subject... I just wanted to bring some thoughts to mind... food for thought. Good luck... and remember...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;YOU ARE LOVED. VERY DEARLY. BY SOMEONE OUT THERE, OR SOMEONE CLOSE TO YOU. I KNOW IT. PLEASE, NEVER GIVE UP. IT'S NOT WORTH IT. IT'LL GET BETTER THAN YOU KNOW. TRUST ME, I'VE SEEN IT HAPPEN COUNTLESS TIMES... AND THAT'S TOTALLY WORTH IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;Lauryn.&lt;/span&gt; ♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-7071374077529081991?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/7071374077529081991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=7071374077529081991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7071374077529081991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/7071374077529081991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/10/given-up.html' title='Given Up'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925682525946096858.post-5824080478508936290</id><published>2008-10-28T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T17:10:55.848-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EP Eagles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enriched English'/><title type='text'>Life Sucks... and Then You Die</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hate everything, you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, so maybe not &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt;, but enough to drive me fricking crazy. I swear to God, I'm going to end up in the Wacky Shack before I'm dead... which may come soon... haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, so there's this guy I like (Bryant), and I found out that he's kind of a liar... and he has a "girlfriend" apparently... and she's from New York. But something doesn't add up about the whole situation... and I'm determined to find out what it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh* I guess that I'll just have to write my way out of this one... again... I mean, I haven't written too much poetry recently... maybe that's for a reason, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;God, I hate how much I over-analyze things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;And then I over-analyze my over-analyzing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;GOD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, today, I got to get out of school for pep band. We got to leave at noon and we got back at, like, 5:50-ish. It was epic. EP EAGLES WON! YEAH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today I'm very tired... it's been, like, go-go-go all freaking day! My God! And then tomorrow, during our Zero Hour, I have to make up an Enriched English test! &gt;.&lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Well, that's all for now, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lauryn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7925682525946096858-5824080478508936290?l=confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/feeds/5824080478508936290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7925682525946096858&amp;postID=5824080478508936290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5824080478508936290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7925682525946096858/posts/default/5824080478508936290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofanemodq.blogspot.com/2008/10/life-sucks-and-then-you-die.html' title='Life Sucks... and Then You Die'/><author><name>Emo.xx.Drama.xx.Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717613798843160540</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VjsT759DNe0/STwgAuKCHLI/AAAAAAAAABM/8qOkt2FeqUw/S220/Emo+Princess+%231.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
