<?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-3360443</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:55:17.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is what people want?</title><subtitle type='html'>People keep trying to getinside my head... here's a flash of life in my head.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-95424612</id><published>2003-06-08T00:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-08T00:19:47.830-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>img src="http://images.quizilla.com/L/Lorac/1035573854_CWINDOWSDesktopgothy.jpg" border="0" alt="So goth you're dead!"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are every goth-kids dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Lorac/quizzes/Which%20Ultimate%20Beautiful%20Woman%20are%20You%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Ultimate Beautiful Woman are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-95424612?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/95424612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/95424612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#95424612' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-83859181</id><published>2002-10-31T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-10-31T23:37:39.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;font size="1" style="Arial"&gt; Which "Dead" Artist Are You?&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://clinicallyinsane.onestop.net/cobain.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Take the quiz at &lt;a href="http://clinicallyinsane.fateback.com" target="_blank"&gt;[clinically insane]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-83859181?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/83859181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/83859181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#83859181' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-83387989</id><published>2002-10-23T00:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-23T00:11:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Last 48 Hours, Have You:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. Cried: no&lt;br /&gt;02. Bought something: red bull/coffee&lt;br /&gt;03. Gotten sick: no more than usual&lt;br /&gt;04. Sang: i try&lt;br /&gt;05. Eaten: food&lt;br /&gt;06. Been kissed: nope&lt;br /&gt;07. Felt stupid: sure&lt;br /&gt;08. Wanted to tell someone you loved them, but didn't: no regrets&lt;br /&gt;09. Met someone new: Probably, some new folks @ FOCUS&lt;br /&gt;10. Moved on: "you gotta get up to get out sometimes"&lt;br /&gt;11. Talk to an ex: n/a&lt;br /&gt;12. Missed an ex: in some sense&lt;br /&gt;13. Talked to someone you have a crush on: eh&lt;br /&gt;14. Had a serious talk: yes.&lt;br /&gt;15. Missed someone: yes.&lt;br /&gt;16. Hugged someone: who me?&lt;br /&gt;17. Fought with your parents: no&lt;br /&gt;18. Dreamed about someone you can't be with: define "be" but if not taken to sexual way, yes&lt;br /&gt;Social Life:&lt;br /&gt;01. Best girl friend: Honey, Smoo, Kelz, Goyk&lt;br /&gt;02. Best guy friend: Dave&lt;br /&gt;03. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: *ugh*&lt;br /&gt;04. If no, current dating partner: *ugh*... again&lt;br /&gt;05. Hobbies: to many to list, top 2: theater, Karate... want others ask&lt;br /&gt;06. Pager: thats so middle school&lt;br /&gt;07. Are you center of attention or the wallflower: the perks of being a creative wallflower&lt;br /&gt;08. What type automobile do you drive: no auto, yet, mobile: Trek 800&lt;br /&gt;09. What type automobile do you wish you drove: DeLorean, Vibe&lt;br /&gt;10. Would you rather be with friends or on a date: friends&lt;br /&gt;11. Where is the best hangout: my basement? Bowling (ha)&lt;br /&gt;12. Do you have a job: hmm would, 2 probs: 1) time 2) my employer was evicted from their&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you attend church: ya&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you like being around people: time? have I slept recently? do I want to hurt you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex:&lt;br /&gt;1. How many people have you slept with: 0&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you have b/f or g/f: no &lt;br /&gt;3. Sexuality: heterosexual&lt;br /&gt;4. Your sexiest feature: i don't check myself out&lt;br /&gt;5. A place you want to have sex: A&lt;br /&gt;6. Kinky things you like: i don't&lt;br /&gt;7. A sexual fantasy: how about none?&lt;br /&gt;8. A fragrance that makes you think of sex: manly smell&lt;br /&gt;9. Largest age difference between you and a partner: n/a&lt;br /&gt;10. The best lover you've been with: n/a &lt;br /&gt;11. The worst lover: n/a &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that whole section was worthless for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal:&lt;br /&gt;01. Who is your role model: little bit of everyone&lt;br /&gt;02. What are some of your pet peeves: kicking people who sing annoying songs in my ear&lt;br /&gt;03. Have you ever liked someone you had no chance with: yes, but i got a chance.&lt;br /&gt;04. Have you ever cried over the opposite sex: yes&lt;br /&gt;05. Do you have a "type" of person you always go after: the strange ones tend to find me&lt;br /&gt;06. Have you ever lied to your best friend(s): i try not to.&lt;br /&gt;07. Ever wanted to get revenge on someone because they hurt you? me? &lt;br /&gt;08. Would you rather be dumper or dumped: dumper&lt;br /&gt;09. Rather have a relationship or a "hookup": its a trap! one is honest and will be :( n if I lie n put the other it will get me in trouble&lt;br /&gt;10. Want someone you don't have right now: kinda&lt;br /&gt;11. Ever liked your best guy/girl friend: not really&lt;br /&gt;12. Do you want to get married: if thats the path my life goes&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you want kids: adoption/fostering&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you believe in psychics: I believe in my own psy energy&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you believe you know the person whom you will marry at this point in time: prolly not, but it would be ironic if I did. &lt;br /&gt;16. What is your favorite part of your physical appearance: i dunno, I kinda have a facination w/ eyes though&lt;br /&gt;17. What is your favorite part of your emotional being? the one that gives me wacked priorities&lt;br /&gt;18. Are you happy with you: its fun to be me&lt;br /&gt;19. Are you happy with your life: generally&lt;br /&gt;20. If you could change something in your life right now, what would it be: expectations of people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Clothes ] sweats n sleeveless shirt&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Mood ] sleep? anyone? sleep?&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Music ] Ben Folds (Five) &lt;br /&gt;[ Current Taste ] water&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Make-up ] yucky&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Hair ] outta the way, need to shower&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Annoyance ] people who say something and go away without explanation&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Smell ] basement, need to clean it&lt;br /&gt;[ Current thing I ought to be doing ] shower/sleep&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Desktop Picture ] Castle Poenari&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Favorite Group ] when?&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Book you're reading ] As nature made him (kinda put it down for a while tho)&lt;br /&gt;[ Current CD in CD Player ] mix: Avril Lavigne, Adema, Suicide Machines, The Vandals...&lt;br /&gt;[ Current DVD in player ] who needs dem newfangled things anyway&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Color Of Toenails ] natural w/ dirt&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Refreshment ] H2o (ya free AIDS walk water)&lt;br /&gt;[ Current Worry ] weekend... too much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-83387989?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/83387989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/83387989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#83387989' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-82583579</id><published>2002-10-06T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-13T22:59:07.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>arou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-82583579?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/82583579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/82583579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#82583579' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-82128993</id><published>2002-09-25T23:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-13T22:59:42.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello, my name is Lyds and I do too much.  Moving on... I got my blue belt in karate today.  That's pretty cool n I have to start going to advanced classes now as well as the regular ones... so... their gonna add hours onto the day for that... right? Math is threatening to be the vain of my existance.  Oh yes and Smoo and I are cooking for our history class 2morrow. "and I want to believe you, when you tell me that it'll be ok. Yeah I try to believe you, but I don't..." I'm suprisingly optomistic at this point.  That quote's comming from the Avril Lavigne cd that I'm listening to... "and tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, is a different day...".  I think at some point I'm prolly gonna have a breakdown w/ all the stuff I'm doing... or become a serious insomniac. I'm already a coffee addict (A+! no sense paying $3 a day for bad coffee... I love my $.84 caffine boost. I miss a bit of the non-baldwin crowd... a group that seems to be shrinking, but then again, growing on another front.  Dialogue w/ my dad earlier:&lt;br /&gt;Dad: I have to tell you something...&lt;br /&gt;me: hmm?&lt;br /&gt;Dad: you smell.&lt;br /&gt;me: do I?&lt;br /&gt;Dad: go take a shower, g'night&lt;br /&gt;(yes... I did listen n now I smell all good n stuff)&lt;br /&gt;i've also really dived into FOCUS this year (Felloship Of Christians in Universities and Schools).  I'm still going to the mornings @ haveford but I'm also going to the tuesday night ones, joining Suzi in the baldwin representation.  CCD also started last week... I was kind of regretting signing up to teach again, but when my kids from last year started I realized that I actually did miss them.  Religion is an interesting thing, its funny, I'm just finding it as others tend to lose it.&lt;br /&gt;I have a bio quiz tomorrow so I ought to go study... another day... ode to being a Jr. and the plannings of Prom and Japan.&lt;br /&gt;Peace, love, HOPE, and smiles to all - Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-82128993?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/82128993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/82128993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#82128993' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-81807753</id><published>2002-09-19T00:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-19T00:50:31.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well.  Life is swell... little crowded if you couldn't tell.  I'll post the list some other day.  Another note:&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of being used! I don't think people even knowtice.  And i let myself be used cause otherwise I consider myself a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;-Lyds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm a drunk, and a murderer, but not at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-81807753?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81807753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81807753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#81807753' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-81341697</id><published>2002-09-09T00:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-09T00:12:57.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuck. I just wrote another entry and lost it. damn it. I'll post it all tomorrow.  *has now cooled of and contemplates ereasing the first word, but realizes it reflects the moment in which she typed it." -lyds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-81341697?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81341697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81341697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#81341697' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-81021759</id><published>2002-09-02T02:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T02:57:57.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>School starts the day after tomorrow, some are nervous, some are sad, I'm just indifferent, if anything happy to escape the hopelessness of summer.  &lt;br /&gt;Webster: Hopeless (adj): 1. Without hope.  2. allowing no hope; causing dispair.  3.  impossible to solve, deal with, teach etc.&lt;br /&gt;I like 3.  Generic defn.  Summer, school, friends.  two of those can also fall under inevitability.  But more on the current mind state, the past, places and people, will they ever be revisited?  Ex.  South Dakota, I shall try to remain in touch with RJ, and yet it is in the hands of fate, faith, money or God (take your pick) if I shall ever return.  and then there's topics I dare not bring up and yet eat at me every day only revoked when I convice myself it doesn't matter.  Go find yourself a Bob Dylan Song.  G'night -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-81021759?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81021759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/81021759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#81021759' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80906379</id><published>2002-08-30T02:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T02:10:07.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/pants_pants_revolution/" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://bretzlies.com/jean/girlinterrupted.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're girl, interrupted. you're fun and friendly, and just a little bit crazy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size=1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take the &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/pants_pants_revolution/" target="new"&gt;which prettie movie are you?&lt;/a&gt; quiz, a product of the &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=slinkstercool"&gt;&lt;img height="17" border="0" src="http://img.livejournal.com/community.gif" align="absmiddle" width="17"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/slinkstercool/"&gt;slinkstercool&lt;/a&gt; community.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#CBD2F3" width="280" border="1" bordercolor="#000000" cellspacing="1" cellpadding="1"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;b&gt;the &lt;A href="http://www.inetrnetjunk.org"&gt;internet junk&lt;/a&gt; 'how bad are you test' deems me: &lt;BR&gt; 68% bad!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#CBD2F3"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                   &lt;A href="http://www.internetjunk.org"&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/xijunkx/bad/3.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;table bgcolor="#CBD2F3" width="279" border="1" bordercolor="#000000" cellspacing="1" cellpadding="1"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;You wish you were feared. Unfortunately your inner voice tells you to be good. Your badness is all show. You secretly watch the Muppet show. You get scared in the dark, and you probably still sleep with a stuffed animal.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/table&gt;   &lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="400" border="1" bordercolor="#CCCCCC" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="400" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td width="86"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.internetjunk.co.uk"&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/xijunkx/off/4.gif" border="0" alt="click here to take some more great tests at internet junk"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td width="308"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;you are tippex&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;do you use a lot of tippex&lt;br /&gt;              for those mistakes you're constantly making?&lt;br&gt;was it a mistake to&lt;br /&gt;              hire you?&lt;br&gt; that's probably a yes for both questions.&lt;br&gt;but at least&lt;br /&gt;              you're fun to have around.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;font size="-2" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"&gt;©2002&lt;br /&gt;      http://internetjunk.co.uk&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80906379?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80906379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80906379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80906379' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80700958</id><published>2002-08-25T17:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T17:37:26.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hi, its me.  I'm back from cleveland, that was an interesting experience.  Now I'm headed up the mountain to see my grandparents again.  I should be back wenesday.  Then down the beach.  Theoretically.  So this is my last week of summer. hmm. peace, love and turnpike. -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80700958?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80700958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80700958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80700958' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80461841</id><published>2002-08-20T00:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-20T00:47:25.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://liquid2k.com/quizzed/weird.jpg"&gt;&lt;font face="verdana" size=1"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I WAS A STRANGE CHILD&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;there are no words to describe you.&lt;br&gt;except maybe: strange. unique. different.&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://liquid2k.com/sockstar/child/index.html"&gt;what kind of child were you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;Br&gt;(brought you by &lt;a href="http://sunflowers.livejournal.com"&gt;april&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I turn?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80461841?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80461841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80461841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80461841' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80413299</id><published>2002-08-18T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T23:47:36.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Drive"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear &lt;br /&gt;And I cant help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer &lt;br /&gt;It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague &lt;br /&gt;Haunting mass appeal &lt;br /&gt;Lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;With open arms and open eyes yeah &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive &lt;br /&gt;Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive, oh oh &lt;br /&gt;It's driven me before, it seems to be the way &lt;br /&gt;That everyone else get around &lt;br /&gt;Lately, I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself, my light is found &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;With open arms and open eyes yeah &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;Would you choose water over wine &lt;br /&gt;Hold the wheel and drive &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;With open arms and open eyes yeah &lt;br /&gt;Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm losing my best friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80413299?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80413299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80413299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80413299' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80382752</id><published>2002-08-18T02:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T02:25:14.320-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O, I've seen fire and I've see rain.&lt;br /&gt;Seen sunny days, I thought would never end.&lt;br /&gt;Seen lonely times when I could not find a friend&lt;br /&gt;But I always thought that I'd see you again."&lt;br /&gt;-Fire and rain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80382752?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80382752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80382752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80382752' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80380292</id><published>2002-08-18T00:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T00:54:02.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/soul/images/downto.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm completely down-to-earth! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find your soul type&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://kelly.moranweb.com" target="new"&gt;kelly.moranweb.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align=center width=600 border=0 cellpadding=3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.maine.rr.com/xmatt/visionary.gif"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;font face=courier,serif size=2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visionary, revolutionary, vigilante - these descriptions all fit you well.  You are thoroughly disgusted with society and humanity as a whole, and you have several rather diabolical plans to reshape it to fit your designs.  You're probably a loner, and most people think you're crazy.  That's just because they don't understand, though, and you'll show them someday anyway.  Heh heh heh.  You are known to become very passionate about many causes, have torrid love affairs, and be seen as a either a demagogue or a hero to the proletariat masses.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font face=courier,serif size=2&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.damnsw.net/~matt/lifequiz.html"&gt;Be cool! Take the What Do You Want Out Of Life? Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trinitykiss.com/piercing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://members.aol.com/trinitykiss/images/pqeyebrow.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trinitykiss.com/piercing"&gt;Which Piercing are you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80380292?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80380292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80380292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80380292' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80350313</id><published>2002-08-17T02:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-17T02:22:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Contemplating the tides? you can't control them anymore than you can control me.-Death&lt;br /&gt;woke up this morning. Fetched coffee.  Fetched lunch. Wait for Priest. Went up to Mountaintop (town in which my grandparents live).   Encounter uncle Jim and Anna-Mae.  Tree in front yard of mountaintop struck by lightening last night.  Kill phone, furnace, light sensor...  furnace register 436deg. F.... (assumed temp. of strike).  By time we get there.. batt. buglary alarm beeps, phone fixed... furnace dude shows up. we head down to hospital to visit Grandaddy (who's been there for a bit over a week).  Hang w/ G/D for a while, he no like being here anymore. Frustration: having spent the better part of the day in a car with a Priest... &lt;br /&gt;why do we obsess over death? &lt;br /&gt;And why do we assume things of people who are facing it?&lt;br /&gt;g'night-Lyd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80350313?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80350313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80350313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80350313' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80307192</id><published>2002-08-16T01:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T01:20:46.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>don't bullshit me.  Xgames this weekend anyone? they're over monday n I really want to go b/c next summer they're movin back to the west coast n I'll be depressed because i didn't go when I could.  Tomorrow through next week: friday: get up early go see the OFG (office funiture guy, aka my uncle... its his business) to see if he has useful pieces for Fr. Michel's new apartment. Then work or head up the mountain w/ mom n Fr. michel.  Sat: dunno... maybe catch up w/ baldwin possie but again xgames anyone... xgames? Sun: church...bah.. one of these days I have to go meet/have an interview w/ the new head of CCD if I want to continue teachin Sunday school. Mon: Work, pack up truck for cleaveland. Tues: Drive to Cleaveland/ unpack my sisters new apartment, Wed: continue Apt. Thurs: Drive home, Fri: work, put Fr. Michels apartment together.  While at work this morning i recieved a call from my dearest father that I must go to church today, rather confused, it not being sunday or anything, I inform my employers that i must leave for church and that i will return.  Tis interesting to see the reaction when some do not know that i have religion.  My hair is curly, yet still brown.  Yet another office dialogue from yesterday: Don: Lydia, do you have a book to read over the summer?  Lydia: yeah, 5 Don: Gee that's harsh. (Other Witnesses agreed). oh yeah, and i hope I'm not gettin my Dad's bronchitus... that would not be cool. "Perhaps you think it right and just, Sin you are bound by nearer ties, To greet me with that careless tone, with those serene and silent eyes... But if you deem it right and just, Blessed as you are in you glad lot, To greet me with that heartless tone, So let it be! I blame you not!"- E. A. Poe, to --------, 1st and final standzas.  "How hot is Mike Lieberthal?  Hotter than the humid air that hung around Vetrans Stadium last night and turned the concrete doughnut into a steambath.  Hotter than anyone in the phillies lineup.  Lieberthal slammed his sixth homerun in his last eight games, sparking the phillies to a 3-1 victory orver milwaukee Brewers in front of a 14,046 diehards who sat in a 97-degree weather and -watched the home team climb out of last place for the first time since april 18th."- Philly inquirer. yup... there's a reason Mike's been my favorite baseball player for 3 years running.  By the way baseball definition of hot: full of intense activity, speed, excitement etc.(thank you mr. webster).  Too much bullshit, not as much energy and hardly any enthusiasm, contrary to what this entry would have you believe.  peace out- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80307192?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80307192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80307192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80307192' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80264681</id><published>2002-08-15T01:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-15T01:55:30.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.mutedfaith.com/quiz/vq.htm" target="new"&gt; &lt;img src="http://www.mutedfaith.com/images/pv.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.mutedfaith.com/quiz/vq.htm" target="new"&gt;What Type of Villain are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;a&lt;br /&gt; href="http://www.mutedfaith.com" target="new"&gt;mutedfaith.com&lt;/a&gt; / &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/labile"&gt;&lt;º&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/center&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm..and I thought I was over my paranoia.  hm.  I miss iris (my comp) aparently her sound card was bad.. that doesn't sound right to me... but we shall see.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80264681?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80264681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80264681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80264681' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-80016270</id><published>2002-08-09T02:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T02:13:34.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"If all my friends were to jump off a bridge, I wouldn't jump with them, I'd be at the bottom to catch them." "Other friends have flown before, on the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before, then the bird said... Nevermore."  Idea the perfect boy for the moment.  who? ""and forget this lost lenore, and the bird said... Nevermore.. prophet said I, thing of evil, prophet still of bird or devil..." If I could eat a meal w/ any 3 people from history I'd think one definatly to be Poe and another likely to be shakespeare... I wonder how they would get along.  As for a new thought to ponder perhaps 2morrow or on yonder, how do I define friendship?  To think the thoughts to words.  Ah yes tommorow breaths another day.  Well after eating my taco hell this afternoon I decided to walk home from work, came home took care of the puppies dear, prepared a loverly dinner on the grill for dad and ashley so they could come home, turn around and walk out the door again.  Mom is still up in Mountaintop (where my grandparents live... my grandfather isn't getting better, all they can do is change the pain medications.  He went into the hospita wednesday morning and Mom has been there since.  Tonight I biked w/ my sister to the train station and returned in the dark, the sunset was sweet, pinkish/peace encrusted clouds edged in flouecent sunlight with blue shadows.  I should sleep soon, its almost a relief to be able to go to work, everyday holds mindless systematic work, and usually a prodject rangeing from building/bracing (powertools), movine, or cleaning out (they're moving their office).  The people are not to be complained of and its in wayne so easy access for little things of necesity (A+ 1block.. good coffee, taco hell, genuardis...).  goodbye... have a beautiful day... call my cell if you're so moved. G'night- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-80016270?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80016270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/80016270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#80016270' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79987001</id><published>2002-08-08T12:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T12:31:16.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;html&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.rampantgecko.com/paradox/werewolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a werewolf. &lt;br&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rampantgecko.com/paradox/quiz2.html"&gt;What legend are you?&lt;/a&gt;. Take the Legendary Being Quiz by &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/girlwithagun"&gt;Paradox&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;hmm, tis a shame they didn't pick me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79987001?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79987001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79987001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79987001' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79946734</id><published>2002-08-07T14:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T17:19:14.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://factor-five.com/~water/n2cip/die/suicide.gif width=250 height=150&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=http://factor-five.com/~water/n2cip/die/index.php&gt;How Will &lt;i&gt;You&lt;/i&gt; Die?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.yayajon.com/watercircle/images/quizresultphoenix.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also known widely as the Fire Bird, the phoenix is a profound symbol of the circle of life. It has a life cycle of 500 to 600 ears and after that amount of time, it sets itself on fire and dies in the flames. Then after three days, it rises again from the ashes. It is a completely benign creature who lives in dew. It is said that the phoenix has a beautiful melidous song which grows ever more mournful as its life comes to an end. It is a symbol of the sun and immortality. The phoenix is a very worthwhile beast.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What mythical beast best represents you?&lt;a href="http://www.yayajon.com/watercircle/beastquiz.html"&gt;Take the quiz!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.liquid2k.com/docmartenquiz/quiz.html"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.liquid2k.com/docmartenquiz/brown.jpg" border="0" alt="Classic Brown"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm the plain classic brown Doc Marten...&lt;br&gt; I'm mellow, down to earth, &lt;br&gt;and a little on the conservative side&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.liquid2k.com/docmartenquiz/quiz.html"&gt;Which Doc Marten are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;(by &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/~coffeebean"&gt;*coffeebean*&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess its not in the least bit a coincidence that those also happen to be the D.M.'s that I own.  Anyway... I'm still at work, waitin to go home... you'd be suprised to know how much one can get done while waiting for things to print (aka, these quizzes).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79946734?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79946734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79946734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79946734' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79795816</id><published>2002-08-04T00:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-04T00:53:56.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.drudabear.com/wishaward.jpg"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.drudabear.com/quiz.htm"&gt;See what Care Bear you are.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol... kinda found that funny.  Anyway summers lookin like it may end well. *hope*... there's that light again at the end of the tunnel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79795816?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79795816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79795816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79795816' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79761601</id><published>2002-08-03T00:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-03T00:04:20.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>  Eminem &lt;br /&gt;The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)&lt;br /&gt;Real Slim Shady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Eminem] &lt;br /&gt;May I have your attention please? &lt;br /&gt;May I have your attention please? &lt;br /&gt;Will the real Slim Shady please stand up? &lt;br /&gt;I repeat, will the real Slim Shady please stand up? &lt;br /&gt;We're gonna have a problem here.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all act like you never seen a white person before &lt;br /&gt;Jaws all on the floor like Pam, like Tommy just burst in the door &lt;br /&gt;and started whoopin her ass worse than before &lt;br /&gt;they first were divorce, throwin her over furniture (Ahh!) &lt;br /&gt;It's the return of the... "Ah, wait, no way, you're kidding, &lt;br /&gt;he didn't just say what I think he did, did he?" &lt;br /&gt;And Dr. Dre said... nothing you idiots! &lt;br /&gt;Dr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my basement! (Ha-ha!) &lt;br /&gt;Feminist women love Eminem {*vocal turntable: &lt;br /&gt;chigga chigga chigga*} "Slim Shady, I'm sick of him &lt;br /&gt;Look at him, walkin around grabbin his you-know-what &lt;br /&gt;Flippin the you-know-who," "Yeah, but he's so cute though!" &lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I probably got a couple of screws up in my head loose &lt;br /&gt;But no worse, than what's goin on in your parents' bedrooms &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I wanna get on TV and just let loose, but can't &lt;br /&gt;but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose &lt;br /&gt;"My bum is on your lips, my bum is on your lips" &lt;br /&gt;And if I'm lucky, you might just give it a little kiss &lt;br /&gt;And that's the message that we deliver to little kids &lt;br /&gt;And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is &lt;br /&gt;Of course they gonna know what intercourse is &lt;br /&gt;By the time they hit fourth grade &lt;br /&gt;They got the Discovery Channel don't they? &lt;br /&gt;"We ain't nothing but mammals.." Well, some of us cannibals &lt;br /&gt;who cut other people open like cantaloupes {*SLURP*} &lt;br /&gt;But if we can hump dead animals and antelopes &lt;br /&gt;then there's no reason that a man and another man can't elope &lt;br /&gt;{*EWWW!*} But if you feel like I feel, I got the antidote &lt;br /&gt;Women wave your pantyhose, sing the chorus and it goes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus: Eminem (repeat 2X) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Shady &lt;br /&gt;All you other Slim Shadys are just imitating &lt;br /&gt;So won't the real Slim Shady please stand up, &lt;br /&gt;please stand up, please stand up? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Eminem] &lt;br /&gt;Will Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps to sell his records; &lt;br /&gt;well I do, so fuck him and fuck you too! &lt;br /&gt;You think I give a damn about a Grammy? &lt;br /&gt;Half of you critics can't even stomach me, let alone stand me &lt;br /&gt;"But Slim, what if you win, wouldn't it be weird?" &lt;br /&gt;Why? So you guys could just lie to get me here? &lt;br /&gt;So you can, sit me here next to Britney Spears? &lt;br /&gt;Shit, Christina Aguilera better switch me chairs &lt;br /&gt;so I can sit next to Carson Daly and Fred Durst &lt;br /&gt;and hear 'em argue over who she gave head to first &lt;br /&gt;You little bitch, put me on blast on MTV &lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, he's cute, but I think he's married to Kim, hee-hee!" &lt;br /&gt;I should download her audio on MP3 &lt;br /&gt;and show the whole world how you gave Eminem VD {*AHHH!*} &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of you little girl and boy groups, all you do is annoy me &lt;br /&gt;so I have been sent here to destroy you {*bzzzt*} &lt;br /&gt;And there's a million of us just like me &lt;br /&gt;who cuss like me; who just don't give a fuck like me &lt;br /&gt;who dress like me; walk, talk and act like me &lt;br /&gt;and just might be the next best thing but not quite me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Eminem] &lt;br /&gt;I'm like a head trip to listen to, cause I'm only givin you &lt;br /&gt;things you joke about with your friends inside your living room &lt;br /&gt;The only difference is I got the balls to say it &lt;br /&gt;in front of y'all and I don't gotta be false or sugarcoated at all &lt;br /&gt;I just get on the mic and spit it &lt;br /&gt;and whether you like to admit it {*ERR*} I just shit it &lt;br /&gt;better than ninety percent of you rappers out can &lt;br /&gt;Then you wonder how can kids eat up these albums like valiums  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79761601?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79761601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79761601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79761601' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79720929</id><published>2002-08-02T00:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-02T00:58:14.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hello.  I just took a shower and came back to find everyone offline (except Honey, of course).  Comming out of work today I was feeling rather accoplished, I got 15 small orders out, 2 big ones, and have 1 more set to dub before sending out the large bookstore order (incase u don't know, I work for target sports... college football videos...)  so anyway I also finished some obscure order that was all U. Florida 1979-1984.  Tomorrow there will be another stack to do but it was kinda cool to see the cluttered table empty.  but also this morning my dad called while I was cleaning out an old office @ work n told me he got Phils tix for tonight... which was also cool... we thought we had 4... and of course my mom and sister would never go so i asked around... no one from office wanted to go (not that I really wanted to spend more time w/ them) and of course of the phone #'s I had w/ me no one could go. Which is all cool... i don't think my friends would understand the true value of baseball.  On my lunch break I headed out to Taco Bell (because it was hot and I was too lazy to walk up to Genardi's) n ate (one which I later got a little sick) but s'aiight.  I was wearin my Xgames shirt from last year n a diff guy was workin the register n he gets into a debate about Xgames and baseball vs. basketball and golf... anyway it was kinda cool to talk to someone during lunch for a sec before sitting down and watching the lunch rush of businessmen and Mom's w/ kids trickle in and out before walkin back to the office.  I also hung out w/ yoshi for a while last night which was kinda cool... yet kinda wierd... ya see she and i get along well and good but can be opposites in some ways... anyway.. I'm glad I not whistled at while walking down the street.  Oh yes.. and I still don't know what my cousin did to my computer.. but its still running in safemode even though it thinks its normal... and its REALLY bothering me... no sound, no printer... no matter how many times I restart or read manuals... grr!  virus perhaps?  The Phillies won, I'm tired and there's no one to talk to, g'night world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79720929?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79720929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79720929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79720929' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79674958</id><published>2002-08-01T01:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T01:16:08.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was flipping through the lyrics/words of Jim Morrison's "American Prayer"tonight looking for an excerpt to put as an away message when I came acorss this part:&lt;br /&gt;We're perched headlong&lt;br /&gt; on the edge of boredom&lt;br /&gt;We're reaching for death&lt;br /&gt; on the end of a candle&lt;br /&gt;We're trying for something&lt;br /&gt; That's already found us&lt;br /&gt;We can invent Kingdoms of our own&lt;br /&gt;grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust&lt;br /&gt;&amp; love we must, in beds of rust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first part struck me not so much as somthing unthought of before but alliterating that feeling when you're bored and yet feel u cannot find anything to pass that time.  The time a person has, like a candle, seems to pass (or burn) slowly, and yet in reality it only burns for a moment.  And at other times we rush outselves towards death because we feel its what we ought to do because purpose takes over thoughts and the candle is looked at for its parts and functions other than time, and thus no matter what time will find us.  Life finds you, give it a chance.  The second, though a continuation of the first just seems to reminiss about all the people who hide who they are.  Playing the great one, the rich one, or just one of the crowd returning to home, no matter where.  goodnight, perhaps some more thoughtso n Jim Morrison tomorrow.  Peace dreams- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79674958?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79674958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79674958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79674958' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79593708</id><published>2002-07-30T09:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-30T09:40:11.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oi. To work I go tomorrow.  Want to go drive. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79593708?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79593708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79593708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79593708' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79498073</id><published>2002-07-28T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-28T00:15:53.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmm... got my permit today.  Got to drive a little :).  And guess what... I'm eligable for my licence before I turn 17!!! ooo... but only by 5 days.  Currently I'm not feelin to great so I'm going to crash.  Sleep can make anything go away. g'night, peace out, hope your worlds are glowing. -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79498073?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79498073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79498073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79498073' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79422834</id><published>2002-07-26T00:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-28T00:09:45.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok, so the point of this blog is completely lost.  I can't post half my thoughts b/c I'm afraid of offending people or saying what others need not know.  perhaps no one even reads this anymore. I dunno, 2morros is another day. g'night-Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79422834?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79422834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79422834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79422834' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79380870</id><published>2002-07-25T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-28T00:10:09.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the lazy days of summer. Sleeping the days away and generally feeling like a lazy ass.  Its summer, why does no one want to get out and do anything?  I want to go visit the people I don't see nearly enough of, but being a nearly broke teenager who can't drive and has to show up @ work on monday kinda limits the options.  Living in the suburbs is annoying... all people just out of reach, that not so much prob in tiny towns or big cities. "and the piano it sounds like a carnival, and the micophone smells like a beer and they stand at the bar and put bread in my jar and say man what are you doing here."(piano man).  Suicide machines have a new cd commin out in sept. I've been tryin to find a good Suicide machines quote... but generally they're all good so if u got some time look 'em up.  G'night.  hope all is well in ur worlds.-Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79380870?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79380870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79380870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79380870' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-79242448</id><published>2002-07-22T00:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-22T00:29:42.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fuck. I just wrote an entry, copied it, and now its fucked up and won't let me paste.  Generally: "I love you dearly but not sincerely", miss my friends, sick of feelin like I'm on their nerves, South dakota is hot, home is steamy.  I have a boyfriend? whats up w/ that? help me? i want to be locked up in a white padded room... "cut my life in to pieces, this is my last resort, suffocation, no breathing... loosing my sight, losing my mind, wish someone would tell me I'm fine""... ha that was great timeing... i'm watchin paparoach live on mtv.. yes mtv. Smoo must still teach me to be a cynical bitch. peace out-Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-79242448?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79242448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/79242448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#79242448' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-78013344</id><published>2002-06-21T01:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-21T01:39:30.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am an idiot, and my computer mocks me. Not trusting people is ruining me, almost as being over trusting can destroy a person."Oh I like coffee, And I like tea, I'd like to be able to enter a final plea, I still got this dream that you just can't shake, I love you to the point you can no longer take, Well all right okay, So be that way, I hope and pray, That there's something left to say... But you...Why you wanna give me a run-around, Is it a sure-fire way to speed things up, When all it does is slow me down" I'm tired of being mad at myself, I have no regrets, but others believe I should.  For once I'm letting what people think carry too far and mixing it with my own self doubt and comming out with an astranged, depressed presence.  Which is not helped of course by the omnious summer that lays ahead full of time spent in contemplataion which is more like spending time menally throwing myself against a brick wall.  Never has dignity fallen between me and my closest friends.  I HAVE NO REGRETS of actions, only at times of words not said. -Lyds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-78013344?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/78013344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/78013344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#78013344' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-77638258</id><published>2002-06-11T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-11T23:37:47.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I taste freedom, lived it, came back.  Walked among friends, saw shooting stars.  Then came home. Since then too all I reach out to when I've withdrawn from freedom, attempts to shut out. We commence into summer in 2 days, what then? "that is in the hands of God my dear...I promised you're father when he died that I would protect you from that satan in a skirt that holds his ground, counseled you to put away the sword, and turn to God for... spiritual guidance.  But it is now clear, you can no longer wait, until you are king."-Ludmilla (GKW)  For fear summer is not a good thing I close my mouth.   Optomism has carried me before.  As for dignity, maybe I don't need it. hmm. peace out- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-77638258?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/77638258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/77638258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#77638258' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-77130192</id><published>2002-05-30T00:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-30T00:29:00.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm tired of being in the way, of being a burden to other people.  i'm sick of the expectations others set for me.  I'm sick of going to bed at night contemplating tears and only having a vague reason why, its not like I have emotion anyway.  those moments, elapses in the routine quickly pass.  Drone in my life, time wasteing. I can't give up, I wouldn't know how.  Summers looming freedom seems a prison, waiting to entrap me. "Liz's motto for goodbye was always, "Faster is better". Kinda like tearing off a Bandaid, of course, if the wound beneath isn't healed yet, nothing helps except time, and time leaves a big nasty scar we call the past, and it's the hardest prison to break free from, cause most of your life, you can't even see the walls."-Lydia&lt;br /&gt;song: Save me by Remy Zero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-77130192?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/77130192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/77130192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#77130192' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-76483458</id><published>2002-05-13T00:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-13T00:21:41.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>: ), Very little can mess w/ that. peace out. -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-76483458?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76483458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76483458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#76483458' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-76330813</id><published>2002-05-08T23:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-08T23:50:04.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Trust.&lt;br /&gt;"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." &lt;br /&gt;- Thomas Jefferson, The Declaration of Independence &lt;br /&gt;adieu -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-76330813?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76330813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76330813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#76330813' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-76287842</id><published>2002-05-07T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-07T22:30:26.083-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, well... Honk! is over, bittersweet. Time. Daylight. Homework. Sleep. New concepts. Interesting note- today in spanish our teacher went around asking for issues we face (in english) the usual stuff came up (peer-pressure, drugs, War on Terror.. etc.) it came around to me I said one word, trust.  Not specific enough? Just look at the word... can you explain it?  &lt;br /&gt;1/2 hr later (got sidetracked by Carl Sagan quotes). I think there's nothing to say but goodnight, nothing else wants to be alliterated right now. G'night people,-Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-76287842?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76287842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76287842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#76287842' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-76063633</id><published>2002-05-01T22:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-01T22:35:21.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dunno, I came with one motive, now its confusing me, the light at the end of the tunnel is flickering, hopefully dim doesn't mean out.  But then there will just be another tunnel, who's end will lead to another, some shorter than others, some brighter than others, when can I get out of these fuckin tunnels???  On another note...Some peeps are gettin to me.  I'm not looking to be understood, just reassured? that's not even the word.  I don't want to spill it, then someone to read it, and become it, unlike who they are.  Another note: Don't u dare call me clingy, its not my fault I live near school, its not my fault u accept my invitation, its not my fault we go to the same school, its not my fault there are times I'd rather walk with company than walk alone. I give up. Think of me what you will, I merely try to appreciate those around me. peace- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-76063633?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76063633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/76063633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#76063633' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75873708</id><published>2002-04-27T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-27T00:20:39.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sick and frustrated of bein pushed away! I'm sick of time constraints.  I've become an emotional zombie, I can't love, but just as much I can't cry.  i think about it, there are times I want to, but yet I have a straight face, no tears, pick my head up and keep walking, one foot infront of the other.  Does anyone care to fucken knowtice when I need to talk to someone on the outside and not feel completely self centered?  Thank you, someone, who reads and gets this.  There's stuff I want to say, but the people who I want to listen won't.  In school I have no problem with the flow but when school is out I want to get out of the corner.  Hi, yes I'm a zombie, wonder why.  Yes, theater is a commitment I choose to make, yes I know my prioties are fucked up according to most people.  Or maybe they just appear to be.  I don't even know.  Why the fuck am i writing this anyway? Why do anything?  What's the point? answer: there is no point to life, so why not enjoy it? I do, or at least try.  "I never conquered, rarely came,Tomorrow holds such better days, Days when I can still feel alive, When I can't wait to get outside"- Blink 182 (adams song) g'night -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75873708?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75873708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75873708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75873708' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75752763</id><published>2002-04-23T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-23T23:00:56.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In the silence of the night I feel left.  The theater dark, we actors, directors, stagmanagers all at home, only souls seeming to be awake, accomplishing now what others do at 4pm.  This is why we love it.  The drama, the theater.  Just a hug, a moment in time to fall asleep within.  In the morning awake with somewhat of a smile, pass the day in sch with no large events, cross the parkinglot, enter theater, work for 6 1/2 hrs (1/2 hr break for dinner), and thats a typical hell weekday, gotta love it.  Do you know what it does to ur mind? My throat cramped tonight, that was kinda an odd expierence."You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, You gotta stay together, All I know, all I know, love will save the day"-Des'ree.  If I break down, would anyone really knowtice? and if they did, would they take the time to care? Oh well.  "once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary over a many quaint a curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping as if somone rapping, rappin at my chamber door, tis some visiter, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door, tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door, this it is and nothing more."- Edgar Allen Poe, and on that serene note of beauty and purity of life I retire. G'night, as a roll my eyes at the thought of tomorrow. -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75752763?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75752763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75752763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75752763' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75672198</id><published>2002-04-21T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-21T23:36:09.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't speak (literally), my voice fluxuates between having a sore throat and having so much mucas I can't push a noise over it.  Well, like I said earlier, I'm tired of missing people, but there's nothing I can do about it.  But its gettin towards that time of year, between now and exams where people appear and the end is in sight.  Anticipation is growing like the summer flowers waiting to burst, a week and a half till Honk! opens, and 34 more days of school.  Blood is thinning, baseball has become part of life, sinus' acheing, anticipation, no more need for cries of dignity, I can see the end!  "Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws"-Jim Morrison  Peace dreams -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75672198?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75672198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75672198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75672198' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75450311</id><published>2002-04-15T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-15T23:47:47.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"its all the same, only the names will change, everyday feels like we're wasting away, Another place where the faces are so cold, I'd drive all night, Just to get back home"-Wanted Dead or Alive.  Are you talkin to me?  Oh wait, I'm not invisible anymore? But I am again?  Oh right, I'm like television I fade in and out.  But, are you talking to me? English 1pg easy essay due tomorrow, oh but I'm not allowed to have origional thoughts while writing it.  Life is a joke, life is a yo-yo, lettin you go, touch the ground, touch the sky and get pulled back into reality, never where you want to be for more than 2 seconds.  I do promise, to my self at least, "Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream, Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream, My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again..."-Kashmir (LZ)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75450311?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75450311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75450311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75450311' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75412488</id><published>2002-04-15T00:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-15T00:48:01.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>how do u define weekend?  No school? no work? no pressure? time to rest? ha, what happened to those days.  Theater eats my saturdays, church and friends eat sundays.  Fridays, ahh, rare occasions.  Well it's 1240, I'm not even 1/2 way don my hw, and have as strong feeling it won't get done.  Forest of Mirrors, a play in one act by LS will be finished this week, or at least sent off to cometition.  Through everything I write I learn something, from these short entrys to longer essays and poetry.  I've put 6-7 months into this play so far.  Daydreams meet harsh reality. "Two roads diverge in a wood, and I, I take the one less traveled by."- Robert Frost.    Goodnight, I return to the Forest, adieu, peace dreams. - Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75412488?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75412488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75412488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75412488' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75381778</id><published>2002-04-14T02:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-14T02:39:55.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm tired, its 230 am.  I'm trying to find lyrics to a song, but the ones I'm gettin aren't the right version.  Life is gettin fucked up again, i wish I could get away, clear my head, just for a day, but no, I have to stay, face the day.  Everyone I know sticks a guilt trip on me, like those little label dots u play w/ when you're younger, they're green and purple, and yellow and orange.  As you walk by each peson sticks their own color of the same thing on you.  Being pulled in directions, being pulled inside out. Dear world, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry. But why the fuck do i try anything?  This isn't anger talking.  Don't take my voice, then its tone will fade.  Don't control my life, then I'll become invisible.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't want to be, I'm sick of regressing to it, I'm sorry, but what else can I say?  And no matter how many times I say it, the guilt trips pile up, one at a time. "Imagine all the people living for the world" I hate being sorry. fuck it. fuck it all. g'night, adieu, peace dreams -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75381778?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75381778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75381778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75381778' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75190869</id><published>2002-04-08T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-08T23:46:50.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"rollin', rollin', rollin' (what), keep rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin' (come on), keep rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin' (yeah), keep rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin' " -Limp Bizkit.  Contradicts what i'm listenin to (the end of DMB say goodbye), but goes with what I'm thinkin. Ok, movin on (Kiss, rock and roll all night).. this is more like it "I want to rock and roll all night, and party everyday..." Hmm fun songs to shout in the middle of the house.  Just like that other one "I've got rythem, I've got music, I got my gal, who could ask for anything more?"..."I'i wanna rock and roll all night, and party everyday."  Yeah well anyway when this song is over I'll formulate some decent sentences (maybe).  "the court is in session, the verdict is in..." time to think.  Pretty much same old mantra, but an new realization, the people who have been there for me for years, they drift and return, I'm always here.  Am I as constant for them as I should be, or do my wavers between reaching out for people and pushing them away just distance myself more? "I promise not to try not to fuck with your mind, Promise not to mind if you go your way and I go mine, Promise not to lie if I'm looking you straight in the eye, I promise not to try not to not to not to leave".  If u read this and are just glanceing over the quotes ur miss the motivation behind my thoughs, but don't go dling the songs, just read the segments given. G'night, peace dreams.- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75190869?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75190869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75190869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75190869' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-75127173</id><published>2002-04-07T03:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-08T23:56:45.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Rediscovery, its still here, within the words I've listen to so many times.  If you listen to songs over and over their meaning to you changes with time until you find they stuff strong enough to support its own message and not rely on the emotion you apply to it.  It's here, my thoughts caught in the middle between the lyrics and baseline.  To give you a name might lessen your opinion of me, or merely give u a new stereotype to place on me.  "The Beautiful is empty, Beautiful is free, Beautiful loves no one, Beautiful stripped me, Stripped me, Stripped me, She Stripped me."  Realizations and hope are catching up with me.  I have to speak the words that won't arrange themselves.  On another note, phillies won the home opener, might i add it was very cold, against the Marlins 6-2 however they lost today 7-3.  "What makes you stop and smell the roses in an open field?"  All of life is relative.  Relative to the expectations and achievements of others.  Face it, if you got a 1300 on your SATs it would feel alot better if everyone else you know didn't get a 1500. But not just that, it relative through the inventions of other, changeing our lives, yet the inventor himself may not have the convenience.  Life is relative like capitalism, a new person/store moves in next door you up the stakes to prove your life.  And if you don't then that's you're relative reaction to how that person will effect you.  I don't care if you understand, don't ask.  The more relations a person has the more origional the personality?  Possibly, because there would be a more diverse log of subconcious observation.  Yet there are those who shut themselves in rooms and create origionality within a canvas, a space, a page and if they're lucky it will be your minds intividuality."What if you never come up with your original idea? What if you lose?" While Nash's desperate response --"I can't fail! This is all I am!"-- A beautiful mind.  I may fail, but in failing I will succeed, trust me.  Well it's almost 3, shit I mean 4 (spring foreward), well then, now that i have 4 hrs of sleep to look foreward to I must sleep.  Adeiu. G'night, peace dreams- Lyd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-75127173?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75127173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/75127173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#75127173' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-11366128</id><published>2002-04-01T23:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-04-01T23:44:56.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was happy, just wrote a huge entry... grr. hmmm.. baseball.. hmm.. peace dreams -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-11366128?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11366128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11366128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#11366128' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-11272089</id><published>2002-03-30T01:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-30T12:27:27.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I know a place where dreams are born, and time is never planned, its not on any chart, you must find it with your heart, forever, in never, never land." (or sleepland)-PeterPan.  Well spring break is winding down and MLbaseball (the all american passtime) is starting up.  I for my betting friends out there it's the year of the Orials.  Well my energy reserves are low, and I can't charge till I get up 2 flights of stairs, so g'night, peace dreams. -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-11272089?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11272089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11272089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#11272089' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-11057701</id><published>2002-03-24T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-24T00:19:21.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spring Break, a welcome time away from school.  Time alone with my thoughts? Time to work out what bothering me?  Fuck it.  It doesn't work, it just comes around and bites me again.  Oh and another thing I "don't feel it as much anymore."  Thats right... and I can't.  But I do.  I can't.  But I do.  I can't.  But I do.  I can't.  But I don't show it.  If you bury it enough you can forget stuff right?  If you cover the gems with mediocre soil that's it right?  No one else will remember they're there.  Except of course the one who found them in the first place.  A small hole to the middle recovering some, leaveing the rest under layers, suffocating until no one conjurs them up anymore, and they dissapear, becomming just another patch of desert.  Maybe I never mattered, but everyone else always did.  I thought I mattered for a moment, but that was an illusion.  None of the moments created by fate matter from my point of view.  What do you want from me next?  Oh yes, I still have dignity.  What its proctecting I do not know.  "Death makes angels of us all, and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws." Peace dreams- It matters not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-11057701?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11057701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/11057701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#11057701' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10920523</id><published>2002-03-20T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-20T00:00:22.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Standing on the edge to no where, and dude, ya know what? it feels good.  2 more days till break.  Till sleep. Until takeing the time to figure out where my mind is.  Dignity and self control are draining, and I don't care.  When I want to yell leave me alone it doesn't come out.  What happened to talking? what happened to meaning?  Its still there.  There is a reality... Under the layers of fiction people have laid on top. and I will find my way back to it.  G'night, peace dreams -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10920523?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10920523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10920523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10920523' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10847227</id><published>2002-03-17T23:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-17T23:51:16.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Take yourself out to the curb, Sit and wait, A fool for life, It's almost like a disease, I know soon you will be"-Matchbox20 (You won't be mine).  Its rare I'm decided enough to settle on a cd to put in my comp and leave it there all night, but I haven't heard MB20 in a while (Mad Season), Its just something thats not annoying.  I needed to vent b4, an action that makes me feel shitty and self centered, but there was someone there.  I don't think they got what i was saying, but its okay, for once I did.  But they listened/read.  I miss the other half my brain.  "gotta get up to get off sometimes, gotta get up to get off sometimes..." My family has become my inferiority complex, and my dad my safety. Paranoia, my sisters home and browsing my comp, nothing to hide, but my thoughs, saved in files with wordless names only known which is which by me.  Someone finally gave me a hug, a portal out of reality.  Only fate knows when I'll see another.  Solace of not being alone.  Dignity. 4 school days till spring break.  Dignity, wake up for the next 4 days, go to sleep counting the minutes until 6pm on thursday.  Dignity.  Sleep.  Dignity.  Do I have any left?  I've screamed and been hushed.  Someone hears, but do they really?  Do you really?  "I feel stupid, but I know it won't last for long, I been guessing, and I could have been guessing wrong, you don't know me know, kinda thought that you would somehow cause this whole mad seasons go ya down."-MB20 (mad season)  Tomorrow I'll feel stupid for writing this.  And the day after... I don't know.  I forgot life is a joke. G'night, I love you all.- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10847227?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10847227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10847227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10847227' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10681867</id><published>2002-03-12T23:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-12T23:37:11.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I do know that person. " I know there's one thing that you showed me, That you showed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just give love to all"- Creed.  g'night again- Lyds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10681867?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10681867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10681867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10681867' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10679803</id><published>2002-03-12T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-12T22:40:08.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Can I speak to you w/o feelin stupid or self absorbed? Prolly not considering I'm talkin to myself.  Know where I could find the person I could talk to and it would matter?  Fuck it all. G'night.-Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10679803?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10679803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10679803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10679803' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10643424</id><published>2002-03-11T23:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-11T23:10:32.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Funny, the night I need to talk to someone, no one's around.  Then again, what in life isn't funny?  Life's a joke, but who's?  I'm tired, but generally I want to beat the crap out of a guy who's alot stronger than me, but is a pompus asshole.  Well anyway don't know what to do about it.. but lets just say he has it commin.  Shawn Mullins reassures me, but yet the song ends and I fall off the cliff again, freefalling.  "Free fall with the truth, and pray we both survive"-Ally Mcbeal.. but even that's gone down the tubes.  As much as I try how can u free fall with anything when life is already in a freefall.  Why did someone have to fuck with my mind now?  Isn't it already enough of a mess.  All I'm understanding is math, the rest I don't think I'm meant to get.  Can't someone just shut up and give me a hug?  Just for once?  Dignity. Dignity my dear.  Wake up, pick your head up, take a step, the daily subconcious routine will take over from there.  Walkin down the hallway, smile at people make their day better than yours, that's the point isn't it... no.. supposedly a smile generates another smile... but it doesn't usually, not a real one anyway. Come home, later and later it seems each day, become a person made of electrons in wires until sleep and dignity forces me up again.  Hmm, a song of the night seems to be Save tonight, but it's not...  I must go search for the all mood purpose song..."Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream , Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream , My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again, Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir. "- Led Zeppelin, Kashmir.  Good song, listen to it a few times.  Creo vida es comico porque en los otras maneras el duele no hay un razon.  And tommorrow starts again "chin up, chin up, everybody love a happy face, wear it, share it, it will brighten up the darkest place, sprinkle, sparkle, let a little sunshine in, you'll be on the right side, lookin at the bright side, up with your chinny-chin, chin up!"-Charlotte's web. Do I really have a choice? peace dreams- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10643424?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10643424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10643424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10643424' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10577668</id><published>2002-03-10T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-10T00:48:09.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, guess what.. I'm The one (Neo).&lt;br /&gt;Morpheus: The pill you took is part of a trace program. It's designed to disrupt your input/output carrier signal so we can pinpoint your location. &lt;br /&gt;Neo: What does that mean? &lt;br /&gt;Cypher: It means, buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, because Kansas is going bye-bye.&lt;br /&gt;Bye bye PA, "I'm on my way, I don't know where I'm goin, but I'm way, taken my time but i don't know where..." heh, I dunno. Maybe I'll get outta the matrix.. know where I could find a blue pill? Anyway I'm feelin suprisingly happy.I've got a friend who wants to know too much, another who's afraid to ask and yet another who doesn't care either way.  "I saw him danceing there by the record machine, new he must have been about 17.. the beat was going strong, play my favorite song, i knew it wouldn't be long... I love rock and roll, so put another dime in the jukebox baby, I love rock n' roll, so come on take the time and dance with me!"-Joan Jett.  The flying monkeys make me happy, the people who see them with me are truly real, those who laugh have removed themselves from reality.  I'm kinda annoyed with my moms over reactions to my complaints lately.  The thing is its something i make wise crack about almost everyday and she says "I hear what you say" but when I come out with my opinion directly its like "ok I'll talk to Dad about it."  And there's another side to it but for the sake of some who may read this someday its being left out.   "I don't think that I could take another empty moment, don't think that i could face another hollow smile, its not enought just to belong, I don't think that I could take another talk about it. just like me you got needs, and they're only a whisper away in the soft we surrender, to these lives that we tender..."-Matchbox20 (Bed of lies)  Maybe I can, it's a good before bed song.  Words escape me, maybe because i don't have my base anymore (quotes archive/my poems).  Writing is what you do for yourself, grammer is for the reader, write what matters, make your reader think.  Good grammer is using a baby spoon to feed a person fine wine.  If I shaved my head and wrote and wrote a perfect essay on why no one would read it anyway, they would just gawk at me.  Flying monkeys are calling from my room I should go indulge them with my presence.  G'night, peace dreams -Lyd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10577668?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10577668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10577668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10577668' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10551523</id><published>2002-03-09T01:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-09T01:38:30.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"thy standard bright and glorius let us bare it far and wide, thy faithful herolds, hear our song." 2 1/2 more years, 10 1/2 done trademarks pass which seem to mean more to my surroundings than actually having effect on me.  So now I have something to show for it all.. but what is it all? Knowone knows, not even me.  On another note, I haven't really slept in 2 days and am still goin on the 5hrs from the night before.  I blew off a friend for needed sleep, I feel like crap about it.  I dunno, beautiful crap. "I'm like Gatsby, but without the problems" -West wing. Peace-Lyd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10551523?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10551523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10551523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10551523' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10432692</id><published>2002-03-05T21:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-05T21:43:29.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>somewhere in life and yet on my way to anywhere, a woman named Betris serves me coffee, and she smiled as if she cares, it reminds me of this painting, that I think I've often seen, the kings behind the counter, serving coffee to James dean-LFO (life is good) Lonely, a word a lot of people use and I guess its how I feel.  Mr. Webster defines it as being alone or solitary.  I'm not alone, at least not the way I look at it, but technically I am.  I'm sick of haveing to look at a screen or if i'm lucky a phone to talk about anything outside school. I don't know.  I'm sick of it though, and I don't have a choice.  Control is something no one has over themselves, we're all manipulated by our surroundings to the point that if we need to scream we can't because we know we won't be heard.  The quote this starts with describes my school, a road on the way to anywhere, just to get out of there, filled with fake people.  I'm tired, crazy, y not add lonely to the mix, I'm not wallowing, or at least I'll say I'm not, but maybe as much as I hate the concept I am simply because there's nothing else I can do. Peace out- Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10432692?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10432692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10432692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10432692' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10393060</id><published>2002-03-04T22:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-05T10:06:47.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, it's late, i'm tired, make a date.  I dunno, randome rhyme, doesn't work, I have no sense of time.  Well anyway, my computer fried 2 harddrives, workin on a fresh slate, lost 300+mp3s and my quotes archive.  s'all good.  I think I needed that, both were things I was getting a little too much of, time to find some new material.  "Cramped in a van, and we do the best we can, in a journey filled tears and laughter, on the jersey turnpike, we set said, with the getaway ragtop. People all around us they shower us with love, you better keep it commin cause we just can't get enough." Peace out- lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10393060?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10393060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10393060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10393060' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3360443.post-10169641</id><published>2002-02-26T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-26T22:57:22.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey... sounds like a typical start.  But I guess I'm not typical, I don't know where I stand, or where I'm supposed to.  Truthfully I don't really care that much about it all.  I'm not miserable, I'm not bubbly, guess optimist works.  I really don't care what people think... many people say that but don't know what it means, I mean it.  I go around messin w/ people's lives, at times they mess with mine, but as life dictates I tend to fade away for months at a time, a factor beyond my control.  2 lives converge in a tunnel, each hidden from the other.  I don't take things for granted, people think I do.  I'm a walking oxymoron.  Why do people want to get in my head?  It's like here lets make my mind into a museum and let stranger walk through, just to make it more confusing.  Hope they don't expect anything to be cleaned up for the company.  Maybe I should explain my though process on that one.  I picture the insid of my head like a room w/ drawers supposedly for organization but my head looks like my room in the real world stuff strewn about everywhere, if it were orgainzed and everything was put in it's place I'd have no idea where anything would be.   I leave you with a quote and a question. "We have different missions now...yours is to save the world, mine is to change it"-Ben Krieg (SeaQuest)... which is yours? That's all there is, there isn't anymore...for now. peace out -Lyds&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3360443-10169641?l=kayynot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10169641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3360443/posts/default/10169641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayynot.blogspot.com/index.html#10169641' title=''/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00353079746819506743</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
