<?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-8062381564231547516</id><updated>2011-07-08T10:39:15.499-06:00</updated><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Beauty'/><category term='reading'/><category term='knowledge'/><category term='education'/><category term='books'/><category term='illiterate'/><title type='text'>Clearly Now</title><subtitle type='html'>Witty onesided banter for the masses</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-8347206804831097250</id><published>2011-02-25T00:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T00:56:01.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm begging you...</title><content type='html'>I'm begging you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm begging you&lt;br /&gt;to shine your light.&lt;br /&gt;Be my light.&lt;br /&gt;Show me there is more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than this pain,&lt;br /&gt;this torture,&lt;br /&gt;this unending madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please give me meaning.&lt;br /&gt;Meaning for anything.&lt;br /&gt;I mean nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want so badly to belong,&lt;br /&gt;somewhere,&lt;br /&gt;to someone,&lt;br /&gt;to anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I belong to&lt;br /&gt;is hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It consumed me,&lt;br /&gt;extinguishing my flame.&lt;br /&gt;Naught but an ember remains.&lt;br /&gt;Quickly fading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm begging you to&lt;br /&gt;believe me,&lt;br /&gt;in me,&lt;br /&gt;with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened and I'm hurt,&lt;br /&gt;what more do you expect?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sick.&lt;br /&gt;With heartache.&lt;br /&gt;With devastation.&lt;br /&gt;With disbelief..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who ignored,&lt;br /&gt;who forgot,&lt;br /&gt;who left the predator&lt;br /&gt;out in the open?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere&lt;br /&gt;someone hurts like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And instead of standing up,&lt;br /&gt;speaking out,&lt;br /&gt;another victim is counted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Unnecessary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;sacrificed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I mad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just disheartened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing to be saved by my imaginary hero,&lt;br /&gt;destined to wait forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun will never come,&lt;br /&gt;hopes and dreams will never part the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;I'm left with this&lt;br /&gt;and this is nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-8347206804831097250?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/8347206804831097250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=8347206804831097250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8347206804831097250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8347206804831097250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-begging-you.html' title='I&apos;m begging you...'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-6501139975026267213</id><published>2011-02-22T23:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T23:40:17.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter soil</title><content type='html'>I find myself looking for an out.&lt;br /&gt;I want an out,&lt;br /&gt;out of life,&lt;br /&gt;out of love,&lt;br /&gt;out of it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to do this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so exhausted,&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly stand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sick all the time,&lt;br /&gt;I hurt more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;My soul is like a dead weight,&lt;br /&gt;doing nothing but keeping me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only...&lt;br /&gt;If only there was a way,&lt;br /&gt;to set this burden free,&lt;br /&gt;free of the weight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoulders proud.&lt;br /&gt;Standing tall.&lt;br /&gt;Am I destined to be alone?&lt;br /&gt;No one to share this burden with.&lt;br /&gt;No one willing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish there was some book.&lt;br /&gt;A book with all the answers.&lt;br /&gt;Some call it the bible,&lt;br /&gt;others... the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;koran&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I call it nothing,&lt;br /&gt;because it is nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;existent&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;Naught,&lt;br /&gt;Void,&lt;br /&gt;Blank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blank.&lt;br /&gt;Like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;newborns&lt;/span&gt; mind,&lt;br /&gt;void of thought and knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting to told and molded,&lt;br /&gt;as society and the paternal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hierarchy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deem acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had someone somewhere not changed that pattern&lt;br /&gt;we would still be saying 'god save the queen'&lt;br /&gt;But when do patterns go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wishing to be barren...&lt;br /&gt;not in body but in mind and soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barren of what I "should be"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barren of standards,&lt;br /&gt;I was predetermined to be me,&lt;br /&gt;not by god but by society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A society that&lt;br /&gt;gave me my meaning,&lt;br /&gt;yet expects me to show them the way to their meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I begin to find out who I am?&lt;br /&gt;How do I know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want so bad to have a light shine,&lt;br /&gt;if but for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a ray of sun&lt;br /&gt;glimpsed through the parting clouds&lt;br /&gt;on a Stormy spring day,&lt;br /&gt;Life hidden in the cold hard dirt of winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeking the warmth and love that life brings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul must first harden like the soil for winter,&lt;br /&gt;only then will it be ripe for planting with the warm rains of the spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ray of sun will come one day,&lt;br /&gt;it will find a crack,&lt;br /&gt;and it will warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;a moment gone with a whisper,&lt;br /&gt;a seed must be planted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long to bloom but longer to last,&lt;br /&gt;a soul worth living for.&lt;br /&gt;A soul with purpose,&lt;br /&gt;a soul with meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My purpose,&lt;br /&gt;MY meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only then will the weight be lifted&lt;br /&gt;only then will I be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-6501139975026267213?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/6501139975026267213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=6501139975026267213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6501139975026267213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6501139975026267213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2011/02/winter-soil.html' title='Winter soil'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-5128283549697084197</id><published>2011-02-19T23:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T23:27:59.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh God...</title><content type='html'>How did I come to this?&lt;br /&gt;This place,&lt;br /&gt;This moment,&lt;br /&gt;This limbo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did it get here?&lt;br /&gt;So many questions,&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't it work the same way as every on else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I that undesirable?&lt;br /&gt;To be cast aside,&lt;br /&gt;used and forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toy soldier under the sofa,&lt;br /&gt;not even good enough for a yard sale.&lt;br /&gt;Not another mans treasure,&lt;br /&gt;everyone's garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do they always use me?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I always left behind&lt;br /&gt;with an earful of empty lies.&lt;br /&gt;A heart full of empty sorrows,&lt;br /&gt;left cold and alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm broken,&lt;br /&gt;depressed.&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted and&lt;br /&gt;overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had perfected this facade,&lt;br /&gt;spent years on my knees&lt;br /&gt;crafting its flawless sheen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can it be,&lt;br /&gt;that in one moment&lt;br /&gt;it's made into a pile of rubble?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unable to build again,&lt;br /&gt;too exhausted to cope with whats left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-5128283549697084197?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/5128283549697084197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=5128283549697084197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5128283549697084197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5128283549697084197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-god.html' title='Oh God...'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3994273513516053711</id><published>2011-02-03T22:36:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T22:47:26.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Save her</title><content type='html'>Looking in the rearview mirror,&lt;br /&gt;all I see is darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold her safe in my arms.&lt;br /&gt;Tight!&lt;br /&gt;Away from them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take her anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Just TAKE HER AWAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Save her!&lt;br /&gt;Dear God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see it coming?&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know what's in store?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you just abandon her?&lt;br /&gt;HOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You turned a blind eye,&lt;br /&gt;too busy with your other 'clients'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it that voided her contract?&lt;br /&gt;Deemed her destitute,&lt;br /&gt;unworthy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;So young, and vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;Hardly able to take care of herself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Betrayed from the beginning,&lt;br /&gt;despised till the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How will this be recieved?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wont,&lt;br /&gt;plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3994273513516053711?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3994273513516053711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3994273513516053711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3994273513516053711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3994273513516053711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2011/02/save-her.html' title='Save her'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-4176349621228916990</id><published>2011-02-02T18:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T22:52:45.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost a year, almost a lifetime.</title><content type='html'>Can a lifetime of memories be thought through in just a few months....&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of regrets in just a few moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can everything be corrected through a single apology?&lt;br /&gt;Where does it become &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to excuse a monster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived isn't that enough?&lt;br /&gt;Can I let him get away with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't I owe it to the quiet masses without a voice?&lt;br /&gt;Don't I need to put it out that it doesn't go away,&lt;br /&gt;that people can't get away with it no matter how long it has been?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't let it escape.&lt;br /&gt;I can't let him escape.&lt;br /&gt;Eternal judgement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I let him get away with it?&lt;br /&gt;Do I let this one slip by?&lt;br /&gt;Like the uncounted masses that have escaped judgement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many get off free?&lt;br /&gt;How many manage to escape?&lt;br /&gt;How can I facilitate this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I destined to be judge for not judging them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I do this?&lt;br /&gt;Can I take it?&lt;br /&gt;Do I deserve what happened because I didn't stop it?&lt;br /&gt;Because I wont take a stand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I do, maybe I did...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-4176349621228916990?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/4176349621228916990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=4176349621228916990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/4176349621228916990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/4176349621228916990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2011/02/almost-year-almost-lifetime.html' title='Almost a year, almost a lifetime.'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-2225819762960478246</id><published>2010-03-23T20:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T21:54:18.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How is life?</title><content type='html'>Odd...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When yesterday in the same family one life is lost and one is brought pink and wriggling into the world is so beyond my mind. I find it fascinating. While my cousin brought a beautiful baby girl into the world, 9lbs 8oz ten fingers and toes. A couple thousands miles away my aunt took her last breaths in this life. I know you can always say that happens everyday, but in one family is strange to me. It brings life into perspective. I do think it is causing me to take a step back tonight. We surround ourselves with trivial things... but I feel that is what we do. I'm in a strange refective mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my birthday just week past, a birth, a death, weddings, engagements, pregnancies... all within the last 6 months life has been insane. I find it has put me in a rush for life. I want marriage, kids, grandkids and happily ever after. I'm in a hurry to 'grow up' and have a life of my own. I'm anxious to expierience things and live... I've got the itch to start my life. I hope it either gets scratched soon or goes away. I'm lonely and confused...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-2225819762960478246?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/2225819762960478246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=2225819762960478246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/2225819762960478246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/2225819762960478246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2010/03/how-is-life.html' title='How is life?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3325222951841046109</id><published>2009-04-27T21:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T21:40:28.489-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration</title><content type='html'>You inspire me with your love of life,&lt;br /&gt;a life that hasn't always loved you back.&lt;br /&gt;They way you hold me...&lt;br /&gt;both our troubles melt away.&lt;br /&gt;If only for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have happened,&lt;br /&gt;Terrible things.&lt;br /&gt;Lies were told,&lt;br /&gt;lies that tore families apart.&lt;br /&gt;You deserve nothing you have been handed.&lt;br /&gt;Your life should be simpler.&lt;br /&gt;Dealt a bad hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspiration,&lt;br /&gt;beyond hope or dreams...&lt;br /&gt;You shine&lt;br /&gt;my love.&lt;br /&gt;The brightest star in my constellation.&lt;br /&gt;When all seems lost&lt;br /&gt;You're there to guide me back.&lt;br /&gt;Holding me.&lt;br /&gt;Loving me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember it all.&lt;br /&gt;From the very beginning.&lt;br /&gt;each movement we made.&lt;br /&gt;Intertwined&lt;br /&gt;From the very beginning,&lt;br /&gt;Drawn, pulled, connected&lt;br /&gt;unimaginable...&lt;br /&gt;amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our minds are connected&lt;br /&gt;Always in tune.&lt;br /&gt;A bond beyond love.&lt;br /&gt;Our spirits joined.&lt;br /&gt;Our souls find peace.&lt;br /&gt;Searching is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are near&lt;br /&gt;nothing matters.&lt;br /&gt;Your smile&lt;br /&gt;my laugh...&lt;br /&gt;peace.&lt;br /&gt;bliss.&lt;br /&gt;we're together&lt;br /&gt;even when we are apart.&lt;br /&gt;Never goodbye..&lt;br /&gt;forever tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You inspire me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3325222951841046109?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3325222951841046109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3325222951841046109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3325222951841046109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3325222951841046109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2009/04/inspiration.html' title='Inspiration'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-569874794955849185</id><published>2009-03-24T11:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T15:54:19.817-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I kidding?</title><content type='html'>So Happy New Year! Four months late... oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has been so chaotic I don't know which way is up anymore. I have so much going on and nothing seems to be slowing down at all. I'm so irritated in the turn of my life the past few weeks that I just can't stand it. I'm trying to get a minute to just think and I can't... it's unpleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor told me I have Lupus... and then told me I don't have that... but then I did... and now I don't again. So now I'm in a very confused limbo where I'm not getting any better but there is apparently nothing wrong with me... which is troublesome, as I am sure you can imagine. At least I was finally able to get her to give me something more than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;motrin&lt;/span&gt; for pain... I've only been telling her since august that normal pain medication has no effect on me. I feel bad because I'm so impatient with this lady. See, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;english&lt;/span&gt; isn't her first language so we have quite a communication barrier to get over and we haven't been able to get past it yet. Why she is so intent on testing me for pregnancy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I go in is beyond me.... not every 21 year old college student is just lying down with their legs spread every chance they get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is just very upsetting to me that she focuses on something that is obviously not the problem. Oh well... 99.9% of all lawyers give the rest a bad name and I guess &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; the same for girls too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is winding down. I'm done with the classroom part of my degree in just 10 weeks! I could vomit I can't believe it! I'm so terrified. The locations to which I have applied for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;externship&lt;/span&gt; are all back home. I can't wait to get back to that dry mountain air! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mmmm&lt;/span&gt;! It's so humid here in Atlanta... my hair is huge and stays that way all the time. Thank GOD for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hair ties&lt;/span&gt;! My time here hasn't been a complete wash, I've made friends and made wonderful professional connections so I know that I will be able to call upon those in the future for support and advice. I've enjoyed seeing a culture completely different from my own, and I can't wait to get back to my own! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ever so often get a little pang of sadness that my time here is coming to a close. I don't want to leave the few people here that I have connected with... but then something happens (like my car getting broken into) and the small feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;passes&lt;/span&gt; and fades away rapidly. Not that there isn't crime back home... I just feel better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;equipped&lt;/span&gt; to handle it there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is to hoping that in this new year... now one third gone already... I will come out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;experienced&lt;/span&gt; in the industry and less fearful, with an answer and a solution to my discomfort medically, and be in a happy place with a happy heart... and I just realised how lame that sounded... Oh well. I also noticed that I totally over use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;elipsis&lt;/span&gt;..es.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;elipsi&lt;/span&gt;? You know what I mean. Three dots in a row at the end of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt; or thought indicating a pause, much like a coma does... only apparently easier to type or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all are happy and in love with life and it's many blessings... I'm glad we talked about this ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-569874794955849185?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/569874794955849185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=569874794955849185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/569874794955849185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/569874794955849185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-am-i-kidding.html' title='Who am I kidding?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-8603240225308646907</id><published>2008-12-07T10:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T10:46:49.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>So I'm very irritated at the lack of original people in the world. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I would like to think of myself as at least a little bit original, at least I don't play into my social stigma like all those around seem to be perfectly happy to do. Of course by me being original I play into a completely different stereotype all together. Then again I think I'd much rather play into that stereotype then the one I used to pretend I was to please those around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that is what is going on with those around me. Maybe what it is is that the people around me are still so consumed with pleasing others rather than themselves. I dunno. I just look around at all these people and think to myself constantly that they could be doing so much better if they weren't just being part of the flock of other nondescript humanoids around them. I also think that it might have to do with my geographical location. I think possibly that people in the south feel that if they aren't hard ass 'gangsta' they will be rejected by their peers that see that as the only way of being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I played into the spoiled overly religious white girl scene for most of my life. Then I realised that I was so consumed with others opinions of me that my own happiness was quickly slipping down the drain. Then one day I realised how sick I was of trying to be perfect when I obviously wasn't and trying to prove to others how much better I was than them. I was OBSESSED with proving I LOVED God and how PERFECT my life was and don't you wish you were me?!?!?! Please dear Jesus I hope not. I really hope I never fooled anyone enough for them to hope that they were in my shoes rather than theirs. My life is NOT perfect, I don't love God anymore than the next person, I really hope they never wished they were me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to label myself with anything it would be, normal. I am who I am. I'm happy for the first time in years to be who I am. I can't describe the joy it brings me to not have to sensor my mouth or constantly spend my time thinking about how my actions will make others feel about me. If you don't like me you don't have to be around me, just leave. I'm terrified of confrontations! I will curl up in a ball and sit in the corner crying if you so much as think about trying to beat me up and I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that!! I don't mind being a 'lame scared ass' cause I am! I will however be the one bring hell fire lawsuits down on your ass for physical and mental harassment. I have no fear of going to others to fight my battles for me because I know I can't win them by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that others could be comfortable and happy enough to be themselves around everyone and not just a select few. Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-8603240225308646907?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/8603240225308646907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=8603240225308646907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8603240225308646907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8603240225308646907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/12/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-1707434276765446241</id><published>2008-10-30T21:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:04:16.625-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell...</title><content type='html'>An eternal pit of blackness&lt;br /&gt;A void filled by hate&lt;br /&gt;Leaving nothing but misery&lt;br /&gt;What the hell is happening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone?&lt;br /&gt;Spiral...&lt;br /&gt;Lacking control,&lt;br /&gt;My lungs burn for the burst of air.&lt;br /&gt;Explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always tired&lt;br /&gt;Always pain&lt;br /&gt;No one knows what it is like&lt;br /&gt;Living in constant, persistant pain.&lt;br /&gt;Unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;No drugs for treament.&lt;br /&gt;Chronic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to be perky&lt;br /&gt;Back to faking.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is the answer.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the old&lt;br /&gt;was there ever a new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I doing here.&lt;br /&gt;Across the country for what?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing aparently.&lt;br /&gt;What I thought was here isn't.&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm alone.&lt;br /&gt;Wishing for a drop of poison,&lt;br /&gt;something to show me the way out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be dropping down again&lt;br /&gt;How can I stop it though?&lt;br /&gt;How do I stop the spiral...&lt;br /&gt;It's never ending.&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you like me?&lt;br /&gt;Why don't I like me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell am I doing here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-1707434276765446241?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/1707434276765446241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=1707434276765446241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1707434276765446241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1707434276765446241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-hell.html' title='What the hell...'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-6028280790769197047</id><published>2008-10-25T01:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T01:26:17.641-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Status</title><content type='html'>Kudos on your symbol&lt;br /&gt;of status and finance&lt;br /&gt;little does it show us&lt;br /&gt;of your true cadence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not reveal&lt;br /&gt;The unhappiness you hide&lt;br /&gt;Not this new purchase&lt;br /&gt;On which you draw such pride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing we notice&lt;br /&gt;is the vacancy behind&lt;br /&gt;those eyes which used to sparkle&lt;br /&gt;those eyes which used to shine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kudos on your symbol&lt;br /&gt;You wish to draw envy&lt;br /&gt;Little do you know&lt;br /&gt;You wish you were me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-6028280790769197047?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/6028280790769197047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=6028280790769197047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6028280790769197047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6028280790769197047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/status.html' title='Status'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-7597471465113274764</id><published>2008-10-17T12:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T12:23:36.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my word</title><content type='html'>I am seriously a magnet for retards. How I end up in these situations is beyond me!!! Boys boys boys... Ugh Why is being nice always translated into attraction? I should have learned my lesson by now I know. Still, common courtesy is not a way of me coming on to you! Grrr. It drives me crazy that I now have to break another poor bastards heart! Seriously... I'm going crazy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with one guy and sleeping with another... does life get anymore complicated?!!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-7597471465113274764?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/7597471465113274764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=7597471465113274764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7597471465113274764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7597471465113274764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-my-word.html' title='Oh my word'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-1579633830071784239</id><published>2008-10-09T00:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T00:47:24.316-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh politics</title><content type='html'>Tis the season. One month from now we will know who is going to replace President Bush in the white house. Now is when the claws really seem to be coming out and things are starting to get dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been one to discuss politics. I'm a non-confrontational person so most of the time I just nod my head and smile and pretend I really care what you're talking about. I notice a trend that very few people's opinions differ from their parents. At least the people I know. Most parents raise their children to be little clones of themselves and discourage any independence, and that's what a lot of people end up being. I've started to enjoy political debates more these past few months. I don't however enjoy people who are obsessive about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an Uncle that has torn apart my family due to the fact that he is of a different political party then the majority of us. I choose not to discuss politics with my family because all it does is drive us all apart due to the fact that most of us are non-confrontational. I don't like it when people talk to me like I'm an idiot. I'm not, I know I'm not, so it is beyond insulting when people act like I am. I think it is the silliest thing in the world to be so sensitive about. Specially when it isn't even election season!!! We get it... Bush screwed up and so have the MAJORITY of Presidents before them, they're human give them a freaking break!!! There is no point to go around bashing him, cause you can't do much to change it once he is there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno much about politics, I'm slightly ashamed of this, but I know what  my heart tells me and it says "Who gives a flying FUCK who I am voting for, that's my business and I don't need you judging me for that!" Being in Georgia has really opened my eyes. A kid in my class practically said no white people where going to vote for Obama because he is black and that that was the only reason black people would vote for him. So all white people in America are racist (see my blog on racism for my view on that) and all the black people are ignorant and think the country will be fine as long as it's got a black man running it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thought... will 'The Man' still be 'oppressing' the black if 'The Man' himself &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;IS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; a black man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-1579633830071784239?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/1579633830071784239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=1579633830071784239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1579633830071784239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1579633830071784239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/sigh-politics.html' title='Sigh politics'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3209592875428862714</id><published>2008-10-05T08:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T08:43:33.173-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it possible?</title><content type='html'>Could it be? Could it really be? Am I? Are we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see how this could be, how could it happen to me? I doubt it has, but the possibility alone is shocking enough. I can't imagine the changes that might be ahead. Hopfully I  wont have any changes to make. Hopfully I wont need to change everything in the near future. I hope I will be able to continue things as planned and not have my life turned upside down for one moments weakness. Please God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head feels like it's being pounded in with a sledge hammer. I have heartburn... I NEVER have heartburn!! Oh man. This blows. Gotta go back to the doctor and figure this out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a up note, I'm totally in love with Patrick Dempsey. I've been at my cousins house this weekend and watching Enchanted with their little girl... such a CUTE little flick. You can't help but get a goofy grin of awww how cute on your face! Their three year old has been talking all weekend about when she is going to have true loves first kiss. It's the cutest thing ever! I really love kids. They're so cute! I really don't want to have kids right now but sometime in the furture I want a whole little troupe of them! So cute! Not to mention how cute my kids will be! I love them! Adorable, but not for me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nausea really sucks too. Been sick for the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3209592875428862714?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3209592875428862714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3209592875428862714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3209592875428862714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3209592875428862714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/is-it-possible.html' title='Is it possible?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-611021598632786340</id><published>2008-10-01T23:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T23:18:10.308-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beauty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>At Last</title><content type='html'>At last the guilt is passing&lt;br /&gt;I can finally look in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;What I see no longer disgusts me&lt;br /&gt;I see the truth reflected there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beauty is present&lt;br /&gt;Exotic and unique&lt;br /&gt;What lies covered before&lt;br /&gt;now is revealed by grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer do I cringe&lt;br /&gt;To see what is shown&lt;br /&gt;I find myself &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relieved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see a smile there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching to the eyes&lt;br /&gt;The brightness is new&lt;br /&gt;Often I am reminded&lt;br /&gt;More often I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing to this beauty&lt;br /&gt;Nothing new or special&lt;br /&gt;Just plain and simple&lt;br /&gt;The way it has always been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last I can see it&lt;br /&gt;What had been hiding behind&lt;br /&gt;Truth is discovered&lt;br /&gt;Nothing left but a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-611021598632786340?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/611021598632786340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=611021598632786340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/611021598632786340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/611021598632786340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/10/at-last.html' title='At Last'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-195596007612213632</id><published>2008-09-30T11:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T12:05:13.197-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion</title><content type='html'>Confusion...&lt;br /&gt;           I have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why I have it. I've been struggling with a strange sensastion the past few months. I have no words to describe it. Almost a strange dizzy unsteadiness mixed with a tingling in my torso. Previously I just thought it was something that was diet or maybe time of the month related because it wasn't a persistent issue. Lately though it has been very persistent. The only thing I could think of that would relate to this would be an inner ear issue, but I thought those were supposed to go away when you lie down and I have this all the time. From waking up in the morning to going to bed at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming miserable with this sensation. I don't know how to describe it, everyone I try describing it to has no idea what I'm trying to communicate, so I don't know what I would even begin to say to a doctor about what it is. Then again no one I have talked to about this is actually a doctor so maybe a doctor would have a better idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh confusion...&lt;br /&gt;            I have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-195596007612213632?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/195596007612213632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=195596007612213632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/195596007612213632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/195596007612213632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/09/confusion.html' title='Confusion'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3020688739255033063</id><published>2008-09-15T23:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:36:32.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Epiphany!!!</title><content type='html'>I just had the biggest epiphany!&lt;br /&gt;Doctors must hate the internet!!!!! With all the information out there these days, they must get people with a sprained ankle come in claiming they looked it up online and are positive they have arthritis and want a second opinion. I have to admit that I am guilty of doing this myself. More to the degree of, the doctor mentioned he is running a blood test for this and I'm not sure what it is exactly so lets read up on it and freak myself out!!!&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine how many people come in claiming the internet told them they have symptoms of cancer and want to know how long they have left to live!!&lt;br /&gt;Ok thats exagerating a little... but I'm positiive at least one person in the whole wide world has done that. If not when I go to the doctors tomorrow I will do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all for tonight. I'm sure I'll have an interesting post tomorrow about doctors and waiting rooms and peeing in cups!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3020688739255033063?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3020688739255033063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3020688739255033063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3020688739255033063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3020688739255033063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/09/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany!!!'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-4000579798893917841</id><published>2008-09-07T15:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T15:47:53.607-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New ways for a new generation</title><content type='html'>Could things be anymore different than they used to be?&lt;br /&gt;Here I am sitting in my room writing a post for my blog for all the world to read... Ten years ago did anyone know what a blog was? Five years ago even...&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about how much as changed from generation to generation. Fifty years ago people were high school sweethearts and got married. Susan stayed home to take care of the family while Jim went off to work everyday. She would spend the day looking after the children and vacuuming in pearls and heels and manage to have a pot roast and a homemade apple pie on the table by 5 when he came home from work. He supports the family completely and they are never in want of anything.&lt;br /&gt;Now... times have changed. Mom doesn't get the luxury of staying home anymore. Even if she just works part time she still has to help support the family at least a little. Meals are hardly ever consumed together and when they are more times than not the TV is on in the background. Kids go to school then come home and watch TV or play games on the computer. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;isnt's&lt;/span&gt; such a thing as high school sweethearts anymore. People are falling in love without ever actually seeing one another (thanks to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;). Premarital sex is no longer looked down on but expected and considered normal. Drugs are no longer something done in secret for fear of getting caught but done in public for all to see.&lt;br /&gt;All that to say it's amazing how times change. I'm all for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; relationships providing that you go about them in a sensible safe manner... not of course he is who he says he is!!!! I met him on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;MYSPACE&lt;/span&gt; MOM! Everyone is who they say they are on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt;! Believe me, there is such a thing as being too trusting and I know that from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;... I find it fascinating that I will one day possibly be able to say 'oh yes, I met my husband over the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;. It was love at first type!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow... side note, that was a really corn-ball moment there. Cold drugs must be affecting me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just fascinated! It's crazy! At the same time I wish at least some of the innocence of the past had been preserved. I wish that when my doctor asked me if I was sexually active and I said I 'No' that they actually believed me and not that I'm lying to keep my parents from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;finding&lt;/span&gt; anything out. I wish they also believed me when I said I don't drink or smoke. Some innocence must be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;preserved&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;some point&lt;/span&gt; or I hate to think of what the world will look like for my children...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-4000579798893917841?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/4000579798893917841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=4000579798893917841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/4000579798893917841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/4000579798893917841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-ways-for-new-generation.html' title='New ways for a new generation'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-5441224767841464156</id><published>2008-09-03T23:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:31:32.847-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who knew?</title><content type='html'>I went to the store today. I wore my newly acquired pro candidate shirt. We'll say Candidate *X* for all intensive purposes. I bought cold meds. (Ugh! I'm getting sick!!! SHIT!) As usual at the check out they asked for my ID due to the drugs being purchased. The guy was a TOTAL JERK. I said man I understand that this is a necessary evil because we don't need more meth heads on the street, but it means that it will take me that much longer to get home and take it and I'm sick and I'm tired and I just wanna go home...&lt;br /&gt;So the guy looks at me and my Candidate  *X* shirt and smirks and wont even make eye contact. He's very flippant and impatient with me. I'm thinking whatever give me my damn drugs and I'll be on my way. As I'm walking off I hear him start talking to the man that was behind me and saying I am a ____ and voting for Candidate *Y* and can't stand when people come through with pro Candidate *X* shirts come through.&lt;br /&gt;Oh man it took everything I had not to march right back up to him and spit in his face for treating me so poorly over politics. UGH! This is one of the reasons I hate politics, it is dividing our country almost completely!!! Why don't we just quit wasting our time with all this and actually split up. 3 new nations. You get to move whereever your favorite politicians go. Democrats one side republicans on the other and a middle ground for the people who just can't make up their damn minds and wanna hop between the two.&lt;br /&gt;I find it exhausting. Just leave me alone and let me run my own damn country.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like hell... I'm going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-5441224767841464156?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/5441224767841464156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=5441224767841464156' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5441224767841464156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5441224767841464156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-knew.html' title='Who knew?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3672670497663000949</id><published>2008-08-26T23:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T23:26:02.139-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knowledge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illiterate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><title type='text'>Enlighten Yourself!!!</title><content type='html'>So it occurred to me today that few people care to further their knowledge. I, personally, don't have a TV and I could care less from what country Brad and Angelina are adopting from this month. I love reading. Yes I admit, not all the books I read are by Dostoevsky or the like, some of the books I read are just books. Things that are quick reads, the kind that get you through a flight or a wait at a doctors office. What I really love though are the books that you can read only a chapter at a time just to work through the words and the plot. Sometimes I even have to chart out the books and keep my laptop near by so I can look words I don't know up.&lt;br /&gt;It saddens me that people no longer read. They just want to sit and watch TV or play games on the Internet. Don't get me wrong, I love watching movies and am addicted to the computer, but I can't imagine a life without books. I'm constantly reading, even if it's just one page before I go to bed. With technology advancing as it is I think that reading will become less and less, and it's already almost non-existent. I thrive to extend my vocabulary one word each day. I honestly don't know half of the 'slang' terms out there. A friend called me over the weekend and asked me 'what's good?'. I'm assuming it's some sort of greeting like the ever popular what's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;goin&lt;/span&gt;' on, but at the time I was completely stumped. I don't want to sound pompous or arrogant but today's culture may know what 'what's good' means but understand what someone means when they say they are 'scrupulous about the way our culture is headed.' I'm baffled by it!!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is just a part of the culture of the south or something... I know that our current education systems are lacking throughout, but I can't imagine not wanting to learn as much as you can about everything. I know that is in part due to the fact that I have a father who is a career student, I swear was in school more often than I was as a child. I know that improper grammar is a regional recognition of the south. I try my best not to correct people when they are speaking. I grew up with an English major, improper grammar was CONSTANTLY corrected, as a result I know how to speak properly and feel awkward when I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My advice this evening is to read a book this month. If you 'don't have time' MAKE the time. You're knowledge and ultimately you're mind ('exercising' your brain regularly has been show to reduce chances of Alzheimer's) depend on it!!! Encourage those around you to turn off the TV and read. ANYTHING is better than switching into neutral and allowing your brain to melt away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3672670497663000949?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3672670497663000949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3672670497663000949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3672670497663000949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3672670497663000949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-it-occurred-to-me-today-that-few.html' title='Enlighten Yourself!!!'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-577427484487440444</id><published>2008-08-25T23:38:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T23:49:23.599-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wandering...</title><content type='html'>Wandering through the masses&lt;br /&gt;faceless as they are&lt;br /&gt;Traveling in circles&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how far&lt;br /&gt;Away from present nightmares&lt;br /&gt;towards future ones I drive&lt;br /&gt;Looking through the window&lt;br /&gt;all I see is wide...&lt;br /&gt;Wide open spaces&lt;br /&gt;where one can roam freely&lt;br /&gt;Wide open spaces&lt;br /&gt;nowhere to hide.&lt;br /&gt;I'm wishing for the answer&lt;br /&gt;to this endless journey&lt;br /&gt;Confused and bewildered&lt;br /&gt;I see everything as blurry&lt;br /&gt;Shapes and shadows&lt;br /&gt;all the same&lt;br /&gt;Nothing but grayness&lt;br /&gt;in that picture frame.&lt;br /&gt;I don't see people.&lt;br /&gt;I don't see places.&lt;br /&gt;I don't waste time searching for faces.&lt;br /&gt;I'm fine with the commotion&lt;br /&gt;of everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;Watching from the window&lt;br /&gt;at a very great height.&lt;br /&gt;God is amused&lt;br /&gt;with our daily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pandering&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Leaving behind&lt;br /&gt;lonesome meanderings.&lt;br /&gt;The world is full&lt;br /&gt;of mediocre people.&lt;br /&gt;I want to see more&lt;br /&gt;than a person&lt;br /&gt;being true.&lt;br /&gt;Ringing the doorbell&lt;br /&gt;answering the call&lt;br /&gt;We're back&lt;br /&gt;where we started,&lt;br /&gt;but we&lt;br /&gt;never&lt;br /&gt;left at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-577427484487440444?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/577427484487440444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=577427484487440444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/577427484487440444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/577427484487440444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/08/wandering.html' title='Wandering...'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-5853799937727229304</id><published>2008-08-24T17:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T18:27:12.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgia and Racism</title><content type='html'>Racism... oh man. I could talk for hours on it. Does it still exists? Of course... but now more so against Middle Easterners and Hispanics. Are there still white supremacists out there? Oh God yes, much to the embarrassment of the nation. Here is my thing... we've had equal rights and all that fun stuff for how many years now? Yes, we are still 'weeding out' the last of the generations that remember racism at it's truest most hostile form, and by weeding out I mean waiting for them to die. What I don't understand is that there are people from MY generation that think we owe them something. They have no idea what it's like to protest and be sprayed down by a fire hose. They have no idea what it is like to have separate water fountains, bathrooms, and restaurants. Yet the 'white man' has still got them 'down'. I don't get it!!!&lt;br /&gt;Where I'm from we don't have any issues with race or color. I have honestly never witnessed any problems with race or gender till I came to the south. Maybe being from the Midwest has something to do with it. I don't know. Now it's oh ... that man looks like he might be from Afghanistan... He's going to blow us all up!!!! Are you fucking kidding me? Just like the youth that walk and talk a certain way and dress a certain way are gang members with guns, people who wear turbans are suicide bombers... Now I live in an area heavily populated with Islamic and Muslim people. My mother was uncomfortable with the idea. I can honestly say these are some of the nicest most courteous people I have ever met.&lt;br /&gt;I could play the 'race crad' and go to school for free, but that would almost feel like lying because I certainly don't look like the 1/8th creek indian that I am. Red hair, pale skin, and green eyes aren't a common trait among 'my people'. Do you honestly think I could walk onto a resevation and say 'how squanto'? You bet your damn ass I could, because I'm part of that. Just like african americans can say the "N"-word I can say, red skin or Apple or Casino-Owner because I'm one of them!!!! Racism is sooooooo 1940's, get with the times!! The world is warming up, the trash is piling  higher and you're too busy trying not to be blown up by your next door neighbor. Hey he could be doing you a favor, that way yoyu don't have to be around when the economy crashes and we're all thrown back into the stoneage and the polar ice caps melt and we all die of solar radiation. It'll be a gas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note...&lt;br /&gt;My brother used to watch this show called "ReBoot" when we were kids. I totally just had a nostalgic moment thinking about it so I googled it and got this ... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeBBzPAqWbM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just about shit a solid gold brick when I found it. Holy cow. I had such a CRUSH on Enzo. and Frisket was soooooooo adorable. Totally naming my next dog Frisket!! Anyway, thats all for today :)&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-5853799937727229304?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/5853799937727229304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=5853799937727229304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5853799937727229304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5853799937727229304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/08/nostalgia-and-racism.html' title='Nostalgia and Racism'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-5897702359279003353</id><published>2008-08-22T04:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T04:39:10.852-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever</title><content type='html'>Ever try your hardest only to know it isn't good enough?&lt;br /&gt;Ever spend an eternity trying only to fail?&lt;br /&gt;I am torn.&lt;br /&gt;I know only what is before me,&lt;br /&gt;blinding me.&lt;br /&gt;A symphony falling on deaf ears.&lt;br /&gt;Blinding lights behind me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;emptyness&lt;/span&gt; before me.&lt;br /&gt;Running away.&lt;br /&gt;Held back by torn restraints.&lt;br /&gt;Miserable.&lt;br /&gt;Bleeding.&lt;br /&gt;Screaming.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing above a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;Useless.&lt;br /&gt;Where is it that I go from here?&lt;br /&gt;Right choices are far behind.&lt;br /&gt;All that's left are mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;One night, wishing to be forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;Engraved into my soul.&lt;br /&gt;Why would it be?&lt;br /&gt;I wish for lightness,&lt;br /&gt;weighted down by torture.&lt;br /&gt;Lay on my side,&lt;br /&gt;sleep the waste away.&lt;br /&gt;Awake?&lt;br /&gt;Renewed?&lt;br /&gt;Doubtful and unfortunate.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it hurting?&lt;br /&gt;Twice now broken.&lt;br /&gt;Popped for all.&lt;br /&gt;The pain should be gone.&lt;br /&gt;It is too fresh for me.&lt;br /&gt;Tower behind the present.&lt;br /&gt;Ignore the beauty.&lt;br /&gt;There is none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-5897702359279003353?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/5897702359279003353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=5897702359279003353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5897702359279003353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5897702359279003353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/08/ever.html' title='Ever'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3373580583026190327</id><published>2008-08-16T17:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T17:28:45.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Modesty... or lack there of</title><content type='html'>So wow, been a while... yet again. Loving my new city still! Busy as all hell for sure, hot as all hell too, but not as bad as DC last summer. That was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;waaaaaay&lt;/span&gt; worse. I'm beginning to think I can actually survive in a car with no ac. Though I'm told that September here is still pretty hot. They got the first snow of the season back home today. I can't believe it. I wish I was there to enjoy it! Anyway, to the real topic of today's story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Modesty... is the best policy... ALWAYS! I went to the water park here in town today. It was by far one of the funnest things I have done in several years. It was a great day with new friends to say, "What the hell! Who cares what they all think! I'm having fun acting like a five year old today!" It was great! However, modesty.... yeah. I'm on the fence here, I want to be supportive of people who I see and I think to myself "Wow, I would never be comfortable wearing that." Which is horrible because I find it to be so judgemental which I hate! I can't help it though. I think what it is is that I have always been on the bigger side of the spectrum, and therefore I tend to cover up a lot. When I see people who are bigger than me, but don't follow the same guidelines as I do, I'm floored that they feel so comfortable with themselves to wear it. My whole thing is that even the cute skinny beach babes should be wearing more clothes than they do. Would you walk around in your bra and panties in public? More than likely not, although I'm sure some people would if they could. I'm fine with bikinis but only when they consist of more than scraps of material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;problem&lt;/span&gt;. I strive to be modest and not dress like a complete whore, not to say that I don't dress to impress I just do it without running about in my underwear. I'd love to be confident enough with myself to be able to run about in next to nothing, but even if I was there comes a time when you need to be covered up. I don't know if I am making any sense anymore. I just spent 8 hours at a water park running on about 5 hours of sleep, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;delusional&lt;/span&gt; at this point. Although not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hallucinating&lt;/span&gt;, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my advice to the world is that, you may think you look cute, but just to be sure get a second opinion. Preferably from someone other than your horny boyfriend who would rather you run around naked all the time anyway :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3373580583026190327?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3373580583026190327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3373580583026190327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3373580583026190327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3373580583026190327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/08/modesty-or-lack-there-of.html' title='Modesty... or lack there of'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-3560144658499922935</id><published>2008-07-13T11:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T11:44:44.155-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Familiar</title><content type='html'>Life just takes off and leaves you in the dust sometimes. It's the strangest thing. One minute you're driving along and everything is fine, the next minute it's like a slap in the face as you're train of life starts chugging along and you better hop on before it really starts moving and passes you by. I've bee noticing that about my life lately. I kinda feel like it's all just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;whizzing&lt;/span&gt; by while I look out the window stunned at what is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;happening&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's been a week since I got here. I feel like it hasn't even been a whole day yet. Myabe thats just me wishing it's only been a short time. I've been struggling with homesickness lately. I find it very ironic that I was so looking foreward to getting out of my house and starting fresh somewhere new and exciting, but now I'm missing the familarity of anything. I spent an hour driving around yesterday looking for a walmart just to find something familiar to ground  myself with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself dwelling in the past lately, which is something I hate doing because it is so depressing to wish for something that has gone and left to come back again. I find myself hoping to find myself in the safty net of the past. The security of people I know, people I thought I couldn't stand but apparently I will reach out to anything at this point. I know this is just a stage and that it's part of moving on, doesn't mean I don't wish it to be over as soon as possible. Life is funny, wish I could figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well though. I'm enjoying new surroundings and new people, it can be slightly overwhelming at times but as always I strive on to overcome my problems with overstimulation. I have comfort coming in a short few weeks, after that I'm sure things will rocket skyward!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-3560144658499922935?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/3560144658499922935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=3560144658499922935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3560144658499922935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/3560144658499922935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/07/familiar.html' title='Familiar'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-8350463540466073113</id><published>2008-07-01T10:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T11:09:46.977-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The fun has Arrived!</title><content type='html'>So what is it about road trips that makes you want to KILL the people your driving across counrty with? I guess it must be all the stress and tension... who knows. I've arrived at my destination, my 'NEW' home. I'm in love. I adore the lush green of this beautiful city. I moved from the desert to the rainforest it seems, it's amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighborhoods are gorgeous! It's fantastic. The heat has not been trerrible, but there is a 'cold front' moving through. So it's been in the eighties the whole time. The humidity hasn't been teriible either, which I'm so excited about! As long as I don't stay wet for thirty minutes after I get out of the shower I'm trilled and living here forever. More to come later, I'm off to explore my new city!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-8350463540466073113?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/8350463540466073113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=8350463540466073113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8350463540466073113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8350463540466073113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/07/fun-has-arrived.html' title='The fun has Arrived!'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-846260600922682710</id><published>2008-06-26T14:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T14:43:04.108-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Month From Hell</title><content type='html'>Wow what a month! Holy crap I didn't realise how long it had been. I helped a friend move and went to go visit people that I haven't seen in ages, I feel like I haven't sat down for more than five minutes for the past few weeks. I'm always going going going, and I've still got more to go. I'm moving across the country! Ahhh! I haven't moved in so long that I forgot all that it takes to move and then get settled and everything else. I finally get to sit and reflect on the past month and take a deep breath. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've been packing I've been doing major overhaul cleaning and purging of myself of all the useless stuff that just seems to spawn out of the walls and into your collections. Boy will there be some happy people at the Goodwill here in town. I think I'm giving away more clothes than I'm taking with me. I was cleaning out my drawers and was appaled to find how many shirts and clothes I didn't even know that I had because I hadn't worn them atleasy since high school if not before that! Clothes I knew I would never wear ever again or I knew wouldn't fit me (dear God was I ever really that tiny?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel that I have too much stuff. Does anyone need that much? I've found myself leaning more towards a minimalist lifestyle living off simply what I need. I don't need a TV cause, well frankly I have better things to do than fry my brain like I have for the past twenty years. Anyway I feel that living off as little as I can has been a very freeing expirience, nothing to worry about. It's been very wonderful ... I'll let you know how it progresses over time. For now though I must return to packing my past 8 years into little cradboard squares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-846260600922682710?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/846260600922682710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=846260600922682710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/846260600922682710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/846260600922682710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/06/month-from-hell.html' title='Month From Hell'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-6836911330742316285</id><published>2008-05-19T11:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T11:18:24.694-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Busy Beavers</title><content type='html'>This week is the beginning my three weeks of crazyness. I will be a regular globe trotter hoping from one place to another, goodness only knows where I'll be tomorrow. I've been preparing for weeks trying to get all my things packed and ready to go. Whenever I leave my place I always do a major overhaul of cleaning, because the last thing I want to do is run around like a crazy person and then come home to filth and not have anytime to relax before I have to start cleaning again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few crazy days, (two munchkin birthday parties, a bridal shower, and a wedding) I've been thinking about how great it is to be surrounded by people you love and enjoy. For me that is all I want in life. Surround myself with people that inspire me to do better things with my life and people that uplift me instead of those people that can only bring you down. It's a good goal to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-6836911330742316285?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/6836911330742316285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=6836911330742316285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6836911330742316285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6836911330742316285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/05/busy-busy-beavers.html' title='Busy Busy Beavers'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-987180269845577364</id><published>2008-05-12T22:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:38:42.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Used to think</title><content type='html'>So I used to think that it was so nice to be out of high school (I dropped out sophomore year). So glad that I was away from all the drama, that I could finally begin a life where what you wear and who you know and what you do don't matter. Boy was I ever wrong. I went shopping today, for the first time in ages, with a friend I've known since high school. We were browsing the 60% off rack and I found what I thought was a really funky fun shirt, and the moment I pointed it out I was shot down as being fasion senseless and all that implies. Now being one that could could care less about what I wear I wasn't phased but it made me realise that I still live in a world that is controlled by everything that high school is controlled by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's exhausting. I dropped out of high school to get away from that and here I realise some years later I just quickened my exposure to the same game only on a much much larger scale. It makes me sick that people spend so much time, not to mention so much MONEY on trying to impress others. Let me just say that the most impressive thing you can do is be your own damn person. Why do you have to be what other people think you should be. It's is a concept that I honestly cannot wrap my brain around. It's like trying to explain color to a blind person, they've never seen it so it is impossible to put it on a level they understand. I'm a blind person in the sense that I don't get why people find it to be such a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure I remember in middle school trying to impress the 'in' crowd. I bought many a pair of (gasp) flared bell bottoms to be accepted by anyone I could. When I got to high school I realized I don't give a shit anymore,  I was so tired of trying to force my way into peoples groups. Now it is still the same. I can't stand the fact that everything is a status symbol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My message to you for today is to just be whoever the fuck you what to be. If you want to wear a bright orange poncho and lime green shorts then wear it damnit! Who give a fucking hell if Paris Hilton or whoever wont wear it, you would so do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm done ranting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. You're wondering if I bought the 'totally hideous' shirt aren't you .... you bet your ass I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-987180269845577364?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/987180269845577364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=987180269845577364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/987180269845577364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/987180269845577364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/05/used-to-think.html' title='Used to think'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-6296165555141700078</id><published>2008-05-03T00:42:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T11:56:36.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been thinking on emotions lately and how they impact our lives. Being raised in our society we come to use our emotions to guide us more times than not. I feel crappy I want to eat the whole pint of Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's, or I'm pissed I want to beat something to a pulp. Every decision we make is based upon how we feel about something, and due to that we have horrible consequences when things don't end up the way we thought they would because we're so emotionaly involved. I wish there were a way that we could keep them all seprate, only devote our emotions to things worth devoting them to. The very fact that emotion drives our decisions means the we take for granted the emotions we have. If everytime you say I love you to someone you don't really mean it, it lessens the value of the word in your life, and the lives of others around you. If we all take a step back and look at what we truly believe the word love means, then did we really fall in love with Timmy in the fifth grade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that emotions are far to serious of a control device in our lives to be toyed with. Someone who has shown their true emotions and vulnerability to someone then been torn apart by that same person might feel that the emotions are not worth what you originally thought they were. Example:&lt;br /&gt;     Susy's family asked her grandparents to move in with them when their health started to decline. The grandparents accepted and the move was made. Of course there was an adjustment period for everything to come together and turn into a well oiled family machine. There was only one kink in the works, Susy's  grandma. She came into the situation looking to be an authority figure and another person to help raise and form the children to her liking. Little did she know that was not the case. Susy tried to honor her parents choice and treat her grandma with respect opening up to her and letting her see the vulnerable side of her, a side very few people ever got to see. One day Susy was home sick from school and her grandma came up to ask her to walk to dog, Susy responded that she was sick and the was the last thing she wanted to do. Grandma proceeded to tell Susy that she was a worthless piece of crap with nothing redeamable about her, just a void in society as blank as a sheet of white paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See with Susy she opened up and shared what she was thinking was her true self with her grandma, her passions and her dreams. In one simple sentance her grandma threw that all out the window making it seem as though the way her emotions had been leading her had been pointless and void of all meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying don't rely on emotion, sometimes it's a good thing. All I mean to say is that maybe be cautious of where your emotions take you and who you share them with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-6296165555141700078?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/6296165555141700078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=6296165555141700078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6296165555141700078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/6296165555141700078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/05/ive-been-thinking-on-emotions-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-1655310977497338592</id><published>2008-04-26T23:56:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T00:34:07.212-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching</title><content type='html'>Ever just sat and watched? Ever thought about being watched? How people would look at your life from the outside. Odd as it many seem I love to make up stories of strangers lives that I see on the street. I enjoy seeing the odd passerby and make up names and bonds between that person and their family. Then I sometimes wonder how my life seems to others. Am I a wounded soul living alone in a glorious apartment surrounding myself with things instead of people, or am I a new-age hippie buying only organic foods riding a bike instead of driving a car with a dog named Gandhi that I go hiking with every weekend? Of course this could be one of my many oddities that I seem to be alone in having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This leads me to think about celebrities. The most industrious market out there and all we want to do is stick our noses in and pry our way into some sort of strange bond with these people we idolize. I remember the first time that my mother told me we need to pray for that celebrity because rumors (later found to be false) were saying they had a drug problem. I was shocked that she cared so much, that she felt the need to connect on such a personal level with a rumor. All life ever is is rumors and lies, no one tells the truth anymore. People who do tell the truth are socially and mentaly crucified, tossed about in conversation as the fake liers everyone else knows they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All things come around to the same thing, we're curious creatures by nature, and that curiostiy will never be quenched no matter how many tabs we read, or how many hussed gossips we listen to. We're always looking to prove that someone else is living a more miserable life than we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-1655310977497338592?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/1655310977497338592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=1655310977497338592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1655310977497338592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/1655310977497338592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/watching.html' title='Watching'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-7946667999626774687</id><published>2008-04-16T17:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T17:12:47.249-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Irritation</title><content type='html'>I have no idea what is going on. My blog keeps saying I'm posting on the 9th of April, however today happens to be the 16th. I find this annoying. So I guess that from now on I will be stating the date in my posts. Oh well, life is never easy is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So aside from the day to day hum drum of life nothing is happening on this side of the world. The only irronic thing that I have encountered lately is that people hire babysitters to care for their children in their absence, yet they often get upset when the children become attached and, depending on the parents, wish that the babysitters were their parents. I don't know what to say to this. How can you be upset with them for doing their jobs? And doing their jobs well I might add. I've heard so many horror stories I can't believe there is even a childcare industry anymore. I can't imagine leaving my children with anyone younger than 20, but maybe that is just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is an off day, combination of wacky weather and lack of sleep, my brain is slowly shutting down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-7946667999626774687?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/7946667999626774687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=7946667999626774687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7946667999626774687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7946667999626774687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/irritation.html' title='Irritation'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-2292612459632510633</id><published>2008-04-09T23:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T00:03:30.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I can see clearly now</title><content type='html'>I can see clearly.&lt;br /&gt;The world is straight ahead.&lt;br /&gt;Darkness is behind me.&lt;br /&gt;Towards the light I am lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escape the hellish bonds I had.&lt;br /&gt;Create ones that are new.&lt;br /&gt;Return to a steady pace.&lt;br /&gt;Return to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is of the essence.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure how long it will last.&lt;br /&gt;Time is slipping towards me.&lt;br /&gt;Time is slipping past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my own I make a path.&lt;br /&gt;On my own I travel.&lt;br /&gt;I can see clearly now.&lt;br /&gt;I know not where I'm lead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-2292612459632510633?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/2292612459632510633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=2292612459632510633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/2292612459632510633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/2292612459632510633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-can-see-clearly-now.html' title='I can see clearly now'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-5533619380739441332</id><published>2008-04-09T22:56:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T23:32:52.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Masks</title><content type='html'>Tonight I'm dwelling on masks and the many places we wear them. Earlier today I reconnected with an old friend from high school. After moving away with his family I only saw him twice over a period of about 5 years. To begin with it wasn't the strongest of friendships so it is understandable that we lost contact. In the time spent apart I've changed dramatically, and he's the same goofy guy he always was. It got me to thinking, how long did I wear the mask of 'innocence and perfection' while fooling myself I wasn't? Do you think that over time, putting on a facade to please others and decive their perceptions of you, you lose the line between who you feel like you are and what others see you as?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few years of 'growing up' or rather 'coming into my own', I feel like I have been slowly able to break the bond those old masks used to have over me. In high school I was the image of sweetness and like every good church going girl never swore, drank, or even so much thought of copulation let alone acted upon such thoughts. I felt like I had finally broken the mind numbing brain washing that took my parents years to create, like I had finally cast aside the little whelp of a person they had formed me into and become a stronger more independant woman because of it. God if only I had been able to grasp the fact that I had barely nicked the surface and that years later I would be explaining why I cast aside all that for who I really am. Had I only known how tightly and foolproof I had woven those masks into my own skin I would have known that the way I used to be would always be popping up trying to make itself known again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always I will strive to remove the mask, yet others will replace the mask upon my face for they fear their own mask more than mine. Realizing that living without the mask is possible will only terrify them more of the 'monster' they feel hides underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-5533619380739441332?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/5533619380739441332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=5533619380739441332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5533619380739441332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/5533619380739441332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/masks.html' title='Masks'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-7262520697650082041</id><published>2008-04-09T22:56:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T11:21:43.321-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather</title><content type='html'>Such an oddity, our weather system. Hot air moves cold air and if given the right amount of pressure and time, storm systems strong enough to ruin entire cities form. We have no control over how it moves and flows, all we can do is sit helplessly by and hope for a favorable out come. It is one of the few things that we of the human race have no control over. I marvel at the masterpiece that has been created. One day is beautiful gloriously sunny a day when all you want is a sunchair and a good book, a day where you loath the very thought of missing a single sunbeam by going inside. Then the next day comes along and it brings a horrible storm, but not just any storm a SNOW storm. Imagine my surprise that upon waking this morning, after wearing shorts and flip-flops yesterday, the temperature outside is below freezing and that's not including the wind chill. I strive to be like the weather, changed and controlled by nothing but my own will to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-7262520697650082041?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/7262520697650082041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=7262520697650082041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7262520697650082041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/7262520697650082041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/weather.html' title='Weather'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8062381564231547516.post-8445813539395043979</id><published>2008-04-09T22:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T11:21:18.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wondering</title><content type='html'>Beset as I am with noctournal desires, I turn to the outside world for destraction and hopfully sleep. Rather than watching pointless infomercials about the next miracle cure to foot fungus, I deposit my thoughts for an audience to critique. Whatever possesses those few who take the time to read the thoughts of a stranger, is beyond me. However they provide me with a platform, however small, to allow myself to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing against anything. We are our own and responsible therefore to humanity not to be complete failures. Don't waste my time trying to build yourself up. I take no offense and never mean to cause it. I'm brutaly honest. I sit here thinking about the fact people long to be right and are quick to thwart others in their way. Someone always has to be responsible for the distruction of man. Of course we all can't group together and say it was a joint fuck up, someone is always right and someone is always wrong. Who decides this we may never know. One thing is for sure, whoever ends up being right will be wrong in three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8062381564231547516-8445813539395043979?l=clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/feeds/8445813539395043979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8062381564231547516&amp;postID=8445813539395043979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8445813539395043979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8062381564231547516/posts/default/8445813539395043979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clearlynowtherainisgone.blogspot.com/2008/04/wondering.html' title='Wondering'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00092830034732709088</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_BHbprw_sA2Y/SAJiZoNvoNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6b6iJanNYII/S220/IMG_1657.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
