<?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-10955269305907911</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:45:18.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Gratitude</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jillienlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08409293829033977014</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IKJ6Jv8xP5U/TFO5w1BVthI/AAAAAAAAABQ/BQWlIP1aCd4/S220/DSC_0558.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10955269305907911.post-4024569015077617353</id><published>2010-08-05T22:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T23:08:22.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Caught On My Mind</title><content type='html'>I know, how unoriginal of me to post song lyrics as a blog post. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think the best way to express my self is through other people's words&lt;br /&gt;and this pretty much sums up how I feel all the time.&lt;br /&gt;I'm terrified to grow up and lose the things that are closest to me. Worst of all I am afraid to turn around and think about the past. I want to stay here forever. I don't want pleasant memories, I want pleasant eternities. Even memories fade and it already sickens me to lose the fondness of youth. When I grow up, I don't want to be anything at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recall once on the church steps when I moved to kiss your chest,&lt;br /&gt;How we paid such close attention to each sweet and stuttered breath.&lt;br /&gt;I should have stopped to paint our picture,&lt;br /&gt;Captured honest pure affection,&lt;br /&gt;Just to document the difference,&lt;br /&gt;Between attraction and connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see all of my friends and I&lt;br /&gt;Breaking into empty buildings,&lt;br /&gt;When the coast was clear,&lt;br /&gt;With backpacks full of beer.&lt;br /&gt;We'd throw our bottles from the roof tops&lt;br /&gt;And this city, it looked endless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Guess is till don't see the difference&lt;br /&gt;Between real purpose and that urgent adolescence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I remember in a basement &lt;br /&gt;Sharing sweat with all these stranger boys and girls&lt;br /&gt;"We'll change the world!" we sang&lt;br /&gt;"We'll change the world!" &lt;br /&gt;But nothing seems to change&lt;br /&gt;And they still don't seem to listen&lt;br /&gt;But I still see much more power in that basement &lt;br /&gt;Than in heartless politicians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if we get beaten by this winter,&lt;br /&gt;If we get strangles by regret,&lt;br /&gt;Just let our love of life and tension&lt;br /&gt;Gasp in sweet and stuttered breaths.&lt;br /&gt;And have them lay us in a basement,&lt;br /&gt;Throwing bottles on the ground and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;We never knew the difference&lt;br /&gt;Between the feeling and the sound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember not our faulty pieces.&lt;br /&gt;Remember not our rusted parts.&lt;br /&gt;It's not the petty imperfections that define us&lt;br /&gt;But the way we hold our hearts&lt;br /&gt;And the way we hold our heads.&lt;br /&gt;I hope they write your name beside mine on my gravestone&lt;br /&gt;When I'm dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we are dead,&lt;br /&gt;Let our voices carry on&lt;br /&gt;To find a better song&lt;br /&gt;And sing along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Nine&lt;/span&gt; by La Dispute&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10955269305907911-4024569015077617353?l=jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/feeds/4024569015077617353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10955269305907911&amp;postID=4024569015077617353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/4024569015077617353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/4024569015077617353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/2010/08/something-caught-on-my-mind.html' title='Something Caught On My Mind'/><author><name>Jillienlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08409293829033977014</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IKJ6Jv8xP5U/TFO5w1BVthI/AAAAAAAAABQ/BQWlIP1aCd4/S220/DSC_0558.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10955269305907911.post-5280143798781551181</id><published>2010-08-01T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T13:50:14.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Room</title><content type='html'>There are four walls&lt;br /&gt;And one child.&lt;br /&gt;There used to be two but one has flown, the whereabouts never completely known.&lt;br /&gt;The child wanders aimlessly,&lt;br /&gt;confined within a cube.&lt;br /&gt;Searching for the exit, looking for the truth.&lt;br /&gt;But something has grabbed on her, slammed her to the floor,&lt;br /&gt;cracked her beating heart and left her for the poor,&lt;br /&gt;poor father who is now so all alone.&lt;br /&gt;But he understands the absence  reflects the silent phone.&lt;br /&gt;"Please, come home."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10955269305907911-5280143798781551181?l=jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/feeds/5280143798781551181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10955269305907911&amp;postID=5280143798781551181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/5280143798781551181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/5280143798781551181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-room.html' title='One Room'/><author><name>Jillienlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08409293829033977014</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IKJ6Jv8xP5U/TFO5w1BVthI/AAAAAAAAABQ/BQWlIP1aCd4/S220/DSC_0558.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10955269305907911.post-5685634598295038998</id><published>2010-07-30T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T23:19:42.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake Up</title><content type='html'>I was taken care of almost my whole life and then listlessly thrown into oblivion. I've stumbled in the dark, and reached for open windows. I let the sickness distort my body, claw out through my spine. I let myself be guided, my perception of life paralleling those who walk the midnight empire. i followed them blindly with promises of fulfillment and satisfaction. Convinced that with each step, each wobbly step in the dimly lit closet of my mind, came the ultimate decision of my life. And I have picked the cross roads, I have pondered all the forks. Yet still I am as empty as I started. I still long for something I cannot define and i am still afraid. My sheltered childhood remains a shadow composed of tiny pixels and it fades away each growing day. And though I cannot admit my youth, the idea of adulthood lingers ever nearer. I'll hide myself, forever fearing to be alone because my only demise is the power of my own thoughts. I colored the destruction with materials of my own, I hid the suffering with people I care nothing about. And when I had explored the depths of my sorrow I found the comfort overwhelmed the pain. Because the only thing I want is the unknown. And this anguish is still so new to me. Being welcomed in the angst of society and dictated the actions and feelings and their relationship with my kind. i have a romance with the night and it kisses me with glee. I have an absolute power I slave to every day. I have walked the universe and spoke the answers I could never see. I let my heart be torn because with each slash remains a scar, and each scar creates a story. And I find beauty in the wounds. The more I search, the less I am defined. And growing old is a terror I cannot bare. Yet i am never afraid of the truth, one of the promises of my kind. The rare breed of seekers dwelling in society's rejects. Because to you, we do not exist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the fact that I have walked both sides of universe completely alone have made all the difference. Because in the end, I am all i have left. I am the only one who cares. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because what's next is such a mystery to me and I'm afraid of all the things I feel but cannot see."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10955269305907911-5685634598295038998?l=jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/feeds/5685634598295038998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10955269305907911&amp;postID=5685634598295038998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/5685634598295038998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10955269305907911/posts/default/5685634598295038998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jilleatsbabiesalot.blogspot.com/2010/07/wake-up.html' title='Wake Up'/><author><name>Jillienlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08409293829033977014</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IKJ6Jv8xP5U/TFO5w1BVthI/AAAAAAAAABQ/BQWlIP1aCd4/S220/DSC_0558.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
