<?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-5011116329119197394</id><updated>2012-02-16T23:22:17.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Noise</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-4922425872598094018</id><published>2010-03-23T03:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T03:26:07.594-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm done apologizing for other peoples mistakes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm done hating myself, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it just takes too much energy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done running away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because I know if you gave me the chance, I would run forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that wouldn't get me anywhere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just further and further from reality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news: I'm home now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I still cant sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-4922425872598094018?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/4922425872598094018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-done-apologizing-for-other-peoples.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4922425872598094018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4922425872598094018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-done-apologizing-for-other-peoples.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-7279569504355611978</id><published>2010-03-12T18:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T18:19:23.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in the studio with Geoff right now helping him with his project. This is the most at-ease I've felt in a while. While I'm with him I don't have to think about where I'm going to be living next week, or what food I can purchase with what little money I have in my pocket. I'm just happy. I'm just in love. Everything will one day be okay, I can feel it in my bones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-7279569504355611978?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/7279569504355611978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-studio-with-geoff-right-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7279569504355611978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7279569504355611978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-studio-with-geoff-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-2886354268528179443</id><published>2010-03-07T21:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:33:05.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>House hopping around the city.&lt;div&gt;Jackie and Leah's tonight, who knows for tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It feels liberating to be on my own for once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a week long T pass and I'm ready to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-2886354268528179443?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/2886354268528179443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/house-hopping-around-city.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2886354268528179443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2886354268528179443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/house-hopping-around-city.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-526142967743625633</id><published>2010-03-03T06:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T06:29:09.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/tumblr_kxqgd8JJhA1qadgpdo1_400-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/tumblr_kxqgd8JJhA1qadgpdo1_400-10.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find hope in all crevices, follicles, and fibers.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's small, but it exists.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-526142967743625633?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/526142967743625633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-trying-to-find-hope-in-all-crevices.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/526142967743625633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/526142967743625633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-trying-to-find-hope-in-all-crevices.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-777463140381981208</id><published>2010-03-02T17:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T17:32:01.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are harsh sounds coming from the livingroom.&lt;div&gt;I don't want to live here anymore. This isn't my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/tumblr_kxk3nxhcqW1qadgpdo1_400-11.jpg?t=1267568989"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/tumblr_kxk3nxhcqW1qadgpdo1_400-11.jpg?t=1267568989" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There are no pills for this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-777463140381981208?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/777463140381981208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/there-are-harsh-sounds-coming-from.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/777463140381981208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/777463140381981208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/03/there-are-harsh-sounds-coming-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-2371280133067409139</id><published>2010-02-24T00:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T00:51:14.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I bind myself in the ways of an institutionalized mind&lt;div&gt;where I fall from up high, crash, and unwind, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and when I get to the place where there's no where left to hide, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there will only be my true self to find.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I am his Clementine and he is my Joel in the way that I am a raging psychotic bitch (some of the time), and he is cute beyond words (all of the time.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time goes too fast and I need to sleep. It's the story of our generation's life, really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-2371280133067409139?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/2371280133067409139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-bind-myself-in-ways-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2371280133067409139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2371280133067409139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-bind-myself-in-ways-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5029045978077392692</id><published>2010-02-19T12:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T12:09:09.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'll be home cuddling with Geoffrey and my kittyboys in about two hours.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never been more ready to start my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5029045978077392692?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5029045978077392692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/ill-be-home-cuddling-with-geoffrey-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5029045978077392692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5029045978077392692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/ill-be-home-cuddling-with-geoffrey-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-604289279850634087</id><published>2010-02-08T01:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T01:22:05.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just give me a goddamn cigarette, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-604289279850634087?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/604289279850634087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-give-me-goddamn-cigarette-please.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/604289279850634087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/604289279850634087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-give-me-goddamn-cigarette-please.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5776744241141790544</id><published>2010-02-07T13:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T13:24:22.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh hey whats up, setback?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back in Proctor 2 as inpatient. I don't even have level 2 yet so I cant go outside all weekend. I don't know how long I'll be here this time, but even though I am disappointed, I feel safe here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought my meds were working. I truly believed I was getting better and that I would never need to come back here again, then, my meds turned on me unexpectedly and I ended up with a drug rash covering most of my legs, chest, and arms. I've had drug rashes before, so having it happen again was a trigger in all meanings of the word. I flipped. I wanted to die. I went through four frozen oranges to try to ground myself so I wouldn't dissociate. All of that combined made them send me back to the unit. I know it was the right decision, and it's not like I was kicked out and cant go back. They're even holding my bed and my food so when I do go back, it will be as if I never left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More than being disappointed in my meds, I am disappointed in myself. I thought I could handle this, but I guess things can happen and I wont be able to control my reaction to them. Happens to everyone, right? .... right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not allowing myself to go back to the WTP until I am ONE HUNDRED percent sure that my meds are stable, and my mind is as well. I hope my insurance agrees with me so I'm not shipped out of here too soon, and then sent back as soon as something else goes wrong. I want to get better. I need to get better. I WILL get better, and then I will never look back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5776744241141790544?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5776744241141790544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-hey-whats-up-setback-back-in-proctor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5776744241141790544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5776744241141790544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-hey-whats-up-setback-back-in-proctor.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-74036153163575985</id><published>2010-02-01T19:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T21:44:22.155-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So here marks the last day of inpatient on Proctor 2 at the McLean Hospital in Belmont. Tomorrow I will be moving to the Womans Treatment Program which is a residential/outpatient center on the McLean campus. I really don't know what to say..&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've learned a lot by being here, and I have made some amazing friends that I hope will remain in my life forever. These women are the strongest, most amazing, kindest souls I have ever encountered and I love them all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WTP tomorrow. Here I go...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-74036153163575985?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/74036153163575985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-here-marks-last-day-of-inpatient-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/74036153163575985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/74036153163575985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-here-marks-last-day-of-inpatient-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-145208826185512938</id><published>2010-01-23T04:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T04:19:54.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is what it has come down to.&lt;div&gt;I am scared of falling asleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every night I used to shut off all my lights, lay in my bed all curled up under my blankets, shut my eyes real tight and try to sleep. Of course I would never actually fall asleep, I would just think about horrific things and everything thats going on in my life. I would then start to cry and curl up tighter and tighter, my knees up to my chest, and I would hug myself until I would become too exhausted to do anything but pass out. And I would pray. I would pray that I wouldn't wake up in the morning. That somehow I would disappear before dawn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I refuse to feel like that ever again. I now no longer sleep. I stay awake until I hallucinate and then pass out on my bed way after the sun comes up. I know this isnt healthy. I know that this is self destructive. I just cant take those horrible thoughts anymore. I dont know what to do, I mean, I know what I NEED to do. I NEED to reset my sleeping patterns and give my mind and body a break. But when will my mind and body give ME a break? I hate this. I hate this so much it hurts. Most of all, though, I hate myself for doing this. I hate myself for every reason imaginable. I dont know what will happen if I keep doing this. I guess we'll all get to find out sooner or later, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-145208826185512938?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/145208826185512938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-is-what-it-has-come-down-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/145208826185512938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/145208826185512938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-is-what-it-has-come-down-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-6583884998160263466</id><published>2010-01-19T03:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T03:15:59.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every time I talk to someone about how I feel, they shoot me down. They tell me not to feel those things, like I can just fucking turn it off. They assume I just want attention, that I'm not really this sick, that I just want someone to notice. Well I DO want someone to notice. I want someone to notice that I havent slept in weeks and that I've been crying for days, and that I'm serious when I say that I NEED HELP. And I need someone to understand, but no one understands, and what sucks is that they could if they actually tried. I just want to give up. No one takes me seriously. No one. I'm just done. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is me, reaching out for the last time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I swear if someone says just one thing about me not really meaning it, I'm doing it. I am so hurt and sad and frustrated and completely and utterly alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-6583884998160263466?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/6583884998160263466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/every-time-i-talk-to-someone-about-how.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6583884998160263466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6583884998160263466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/every-time-i-talk-to-someone-about-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5275221842742377765</id><published>2010-01-15T04:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T04:49:04.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like my ribs are breaking into a million little pieces scattered on the floors of glass houses that only exist in the walls of my mind. I watched the northern lights on my ceiling last night, or this morning, or yesterday morning. Time isn't real for me anymore. Thank you, Kurt Vonnegut, I have yet again become unstuck. But yes, the northern lights. My ceiling turned into waves of colorful Chinese dragons dancing just out of reach. Everything was illuminated by the dying light bulbs of my twinkle lights my mom strung up just after Christmas in my fourth grade year. I am fond of them and it makes me quite sad that they are slowly dimming, one by one. My whole room has become a tomb for everything that once brought me joy. There are countless teddy bears on the shelf next to my pathetic excuse for a bed, and their only purpose, now, is for ridiculous staring contests that I win, of course, if I can convince myself that they blinked. Maybe they became distracted by light show on my ceiling. Golden strings dance and form shapes just above my head. I watched them for hours, just lying there under my blankets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5275221842742377765?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5275221842742377765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-know-what-im-doing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5275221842742377765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5275221842742377765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-know-what-im-doing.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-8079767477428120401</id><published>2010-01-12T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T17:50:10.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I stare straight ahead, my eyes wont move past that part in the road. I haven’t seen the sun in days, and I can pretty much guarantee that’s enough to make anyone mad. I keep having flashbacks of angels, and how they arent really angels at all, but just figments of our imagination to bring us good luck, And Heaven is just a form of deja vu where we can go back and relive moments, even seconds, of our lives until everything as we know it no longer exists. Time is irrelevant. Time is the bastard son of God. I sit here, with pride on my fingers and love carved into my arms and I wonder... how long it takes for a corpse to deteriorate? How many maggots per second? How many bones will rot away before my soul is saved? This isnt life anymore. This is just waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-8079767477428120401?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/8079767477428120401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-stare-straight-ahead-my-eyes-wont.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8079767477428120401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8079767477428120401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-stare-straight-ahead-my-eyes-wont.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-1722619068311207203</id><published>2009-12-16T01:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T02:14:02.875-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My brain works in mysterious ways. Right now it is fond of the soft light of my room and the colors reflecting off of mirrors and hidden things stuffed away in corners. There are secrets and regrets shoved in every direction from where I sit, and, while I look at them everyday, I am never afraid. I realize now, that for whatever reason I told you I loved you, I never showed you who I really was. Was I that girl? The one with the chains and the lack of restrictions. The one with open wounds and salt-shaker in hand. I was never her no matter how badly you wanted me to be. I never showed you my room, my space. My bed never touched the soft skin of your back. My pillow never felt the gentle resting of your head. Your curls never graced the back of my chairs. Cant you see? I never let you in. I never loved you. I was naive; a crazed teenage girl with a sick infatuation, and that's it. That's all it ever was.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am made up of so many little pieces collected from train stations and the posts of bed frames. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-1722619068311207203?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/1722619068311207203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-brain-works-in-mysterious-ways.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1722619068311207203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1722619068311207203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-brain-works-in-mysterious-ways.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-4739230686001972942</id><published>2009-12-14T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T13:24:34.449-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have a love-hate relationship with my life. At one moment, I can be content and as happy as the waves when they meet the shore, but then I can switch completely and I start remembering everything you ever did to me. Your long fingers and the way you swept your hair out of your eyes. I hate everything about you, especially how you left me to rot in my own misery. I loved you. I loved your luster for life, I loved your infectious laugh. You used to make me smile, now you just make me punch my pillow in anger wishing my fists were hitting your face. How could you? How could you just walk away? I was putty in your hands, you could have molded me into something beautiful, but instead you made me ugly. Ugly and cold and bitterly hating your memory. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can hardly sleep at night with your face so deeply etched into the back of my eyelids. You haunt my every dream, and I often awaken with clenched fists and a tight jaw. How could you? How could you just walk away? My bones ache for your affection, my fingertips long for your skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How could you just walk away? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-4739230686001972942?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/4739230686001972942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-have-love-hate-relationship-with-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4739230686001972942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4739230686001972942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-have-love-hate-relationship-with-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-6414986877909345251</id><published>2009-12-03T00:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T01:01:02.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow so my father just took away my medication because he thought I was going to kill myself over my current living situation. Really? Fucking, REALLY? That hurts. Hurts deep. Thank you very fucking much for your concern, but this just proves how much you DON'T KNOW ME. I'm over that shit, okay? I did my time getting my head fixed and I don't appreciate what you're trying to do here. From now on, &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; will control my medication, and you will leave me the hell alone. Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-6414986877909345251?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/6414986877909345251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/wow-so-my-father-just-took-away-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6414986877909345251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6414986877909345251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/wow-so-my-father-just-took-away-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-632186644790983157</id><published>2009-12-01T02:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T02:22:56.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/more-tree-test-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 419px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/xcellardoorx7/more-tree-test-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Getting this on my skin as soon as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-632186644790983157?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/632186644790983157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/getting-this-on-my-skin-as-soon-as.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/632186644790983157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/632186644790983157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/12/getting-this-on-my-skin-as-soon-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-7325998613481743742</id><published>2009-11-25T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T15:47:01.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PARKER MOODY! lovelovelove forever and ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-7325998613481743742?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/7325998613481743742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-birthday-parker-moody.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7325998613481743742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7325998613481743742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-birthday-parker-moody.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-4860102401349325002</id><published>2009-11-24T15:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T23:53:24.595-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want to create art so powerfully that I am left raw and open. I want to pour my everything into each piece and then maybe I wont feel so heavy. I want to put my body and mind through hell so I can truly appreciate what it means to be beautiful. I want to learn from everything I've done and then keep doing it. I want to experience pain, cruelty, and loss. I want to mourn through art and expression. I want to tear off my own skin just to expose what is underneath.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-4860102401349325002?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/4860102401349325002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-want-to-create-art-so-powerfully-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4860102401349325002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4860102401349325002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-want-to-create-art-so-powerfully-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-2629911091402880675</id><published>2009-11-22T23:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:51:53.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I was going to write a post filled with cynicism and self-loathing, but then a good friend and I started a webcam chat and all the bad shit went away. I love when that happens. When a friend just knows what you need when you don't even tell them.  I've missed him terribly as well, and seeing his face reminded me that people really do care. I was going to write about how the only person you'll ever have is yourself, but I no longer find that to be true. I believe that there are people out there, whether they're coming into your life or are packing up and leaving, that will change how you think and how you see the world. I was terribly depressed; ready for a night of broken sleep and tears, when I saw his smile, heard his laugh, and was brought back to the time where nothing big really mattered. Where responsibilities were fleeting and all we cared about was each other and what could make us happy. Simple things.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you, Trevor Hart. Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-2629911091402880675?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/2629911091402880675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-was-going-to-write-post-filled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2629911091402880675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/2629911091402880675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-was-going-to-write-post-filled.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-1342631509736982315</id><published>2009-11-21T23:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T01:19:32.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I bought you a book today,&lt;div&gt;but I don't think I'm going to give it to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You don't deserve friends like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when my eyes get tired and fuzzy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the birthmarks on my arms are little freckle-bugs crawling on my skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I try to scratch them off in my exhausted state,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but they are immune to my fingernails.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And as I drift off to sleep,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they become my friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-1342631509736982315?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/1342631509736982315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-bought-you-book-today-but-i-dont.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1342631509736982315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1342631509736982315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-bought-you-book-today-but-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-7354616001531984215</id><published>2009-11-21T21:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T21:50:16.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thumbnail moon&lt;div&gt;I'll wait for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Day by day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll stay the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will wax&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you will wane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the rain will fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the seasons change&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I will wait&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll stay the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until the day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That death will claim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I will join you in the stars&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-7354616001531984215?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/7354616001531984215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/thumbnail-moon-ill-wait-for-you-day-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7354616001531984215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7354616001531984215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/thumbnail-moon-ill-wait-for-you-day-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-4786985110683703981</id><published>2009-11-21T01:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T01:05:35.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bones.&lt;div&gt;Caged hearts, pumping valves, running blood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fingertips.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been told they have memories of us, you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;her, him, sir, ma'am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Strings tied, loose laces, fading smiles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trains and buses holding hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate the way I communicate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-4786985110683703981?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/4786985110683703981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/bones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4786985110683703981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4786985110683703981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/bones.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-3186848113184581441</id><published>2009-11-21T00:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T21:47:43.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm ready to let go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-3186848113184581441?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/3186848113184581441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/ill-wait-for-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/3186848113184581441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/3186848113184581441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/ill-wait-for-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-6322630828653852450</id><published>2009-11-19T00:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T00:58:24.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>He's been there for me from the very beginning, and his kisses are soft and light. He makes me laugh when I've spent the whole day crying. I know that people hate to hear this, but without him, I am nothing. Six years of love and affection, caring and compassion; I will never leave his side.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is something leftover from the feeling of being"in love". When you're "in love" you're giddy and overwhelmed with excitement from a newfound attraction. Actual REAL love comes later, when all of that excitement fades and you're left with a person, raw with faults. Seeing past those faults and learning to comprehend and cope with the previously unseen baggage that everyone carries is something that takes time, effort, and communication. That's why, I hate to say it, that so many couples break up after only dating for a short time. I've done it, and maybe you have too, but finding that one person who can deal with your shit and love you despite how many tears you cry each night is like striking gold. Work through everything that bothers you, because what you can have in the long run is so much more rewarding than temporary satisfaction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm writing this as if it is still before midnight. Today was a rough day, as was yesterday, and I can honestly say that crying is something that I'll never miss. City life is so much more interesting, and slightly more stressful, than living on the coast. Not as beautiful, though. Unless you're really into that whole cigarette smoke haze thing and car horns. Crossing the street makes me so nervous, especially in the city. Boston cabs are the most evil things ever put on the road. "Oh what? You want to cross the street? Too fucking bad, I'm driving!" No wonder I always reach for someones hand when I cross the street. Yeah that might be childish but at least it makes me feel somewhat safe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my new shoes. Smile!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-6322630828653852450?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/6322630828653852450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/hes-been-there-for-me-from-very.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6322630828653852450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/6322630828653852450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/hes-been-there-for-me-from-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-7408601768197394799</id><published>2009-11-16T23:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T23:49:55.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do you ever get that feeling that you no longer have a home? Constantly I'm being haunted by a feeling of homelessness and rejection. I feel like no matter what I do I will always be wrong. I know that this isn't the case, and that no one can in fact be wrong all the time, but I guess I'm as close as it gets. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart aches and theres this anxiety building in my stomach. I wish I could run but I have no place to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-7408601768197394799?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/7408601768197394799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-you-ever-get-that-feeling-that-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7408601768197394799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7408601768197394799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-you-ever-get-that-feeling-that-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-1465759332172682085</id><published>2009-11-15T02:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T02:45:17.571-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I watched a show today about different types of cats and I just fell in love. Duke and Dash (my aunt and uncle's Bengals) are lovely and sweet, but they don't like to cuddle. This makes me long for my kitties back at my dad's; Simon and Sheldon. My boys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-s9GXOWoI/AAAAAAAAABA/92hnxKlNJ7c/s1600-h/kitties+57948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-s9GXOWoI/AAAAAAAAABA/92hnxKlNJ7c/s320/kitties+57948.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404228243547904642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Simon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-s8zvOBWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/prY4hO4sqjM/s1600-h/kitties+57955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-s8zvOBWI/AAAAAAAAAA4/prY4hO4sqjM/s320/kitties+57955.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404228238548272482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sheldon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I have decided that I can no longer live without blue raspberry soda. I know this is a major exaggeration, but I cant think of any other way to put it. My phone has been on silent all day, mostly because I was asleep, but it was still a nice feeling. Sometimes you have to take a break from the outside world, you know? Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, my limbs were so tired that they were shaking, and it felt as if someone had blown a hole through both of my kneecaps. Despite the many uncomfortable positions I put myself in throughout the night, I slept better than I had in a while. I also forgot to eat meals today. I was walking around the mall with my aunt when all of a sudden I started sweating like crazy and I felt like I was going to pass out. Let me just stress how important food really is. If you don't eat it, you will eventually wither away into nothing. Let this be a lesson to me so hopefully I can remember to eat my meals in the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In other news my aunt got me a new lip ring. It's swirly and I love it despite that it's a gauge smaller than what I am used to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-wIkHN3HI/AAAAAAAAABI/C27Sgv2-QBA/s320/013905.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;New thing. I've stolen this idea from a fellow blogger, and I hope she forgives me for taking it, but it is just way too good to pass up. Song of the day. Today's song of the day is Jumper by Third Eye Blind because I heard it in the car and it fit the moment so well. Today's back-up song of the day is I Want You To by Weezer because I just purchased it only moments ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;I'm talking about myself too much and it's bothering me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-1465759332172682085?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/1465759332172682085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-watched-show-today-about-different.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1465759332172682085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1465759332172682085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-watched-show-today-about-different.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Sv-s9GXOWoI/AAAAAAAAABA/92hnxKlNJ7c/s72-c/kitties+57948.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5188669117494242351</id><published>2009-11-14T01:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T02:05:47.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This post is going to be made up of random thoughts that I have come up with over the course of the day. I feel like if I try to make a post with some sort of sense, my brain might implode.&lt;div&gt;I guess this means that today I am thankful for free thought. Think for yourself; it's not illegal yet.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I watched part of a movie today where this striking woman was wearing a dress composed of only sandals in varied shades of vibrant pink.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am now the proud owner of purple sneakers to match my purple hair and blue-raspbery-soda tongue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking of getting snakebites. And also a snake. I'm hoping the actual snake wont give me actual snakebites.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am seriously considering purchasing an ABBA song on iTunes because I secretly want to be a fabulous dragqueen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just Like Heaven by The Cure has become the most played song on my library along with Daylight by Matt &amp;amp; Kim. Both are new favorites and make me extremely happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drinking things out of glass bottles makes the drink, and everything else, more enjoyable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uma Thurmans collarbones are sexy even though she is slightly terrifying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5188669117494242351?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5188669117494242351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-post-is-going-to-be-made-up-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5188669117494242351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5188669117494242351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-post-is-going-to-be-made-up-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5771392437512861496</id><published>2009-11-12T23:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T00:05:02.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My heart feels like its being ripped out through my throat. I promised myself that I would never let another persons feelings make me feel this way again, and yet, here I am wishing I could read minds. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;So pack up the bags to beat back the clock&lt;br /&gt;Do I let her sleep or should I wake her up?&lt;br /&gt;You said,&lt;br /&gt;"We both go together if one falls down."&lt;br /&gt;Yeah right,&lt;br /&gt;I talk out loud like you’re still around.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5771392437512861496?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5771392437512861496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-heart-feels-like-its-being-ripped.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5771392437512861496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5771392437512861496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-heart-feels-like-its-being-ripped.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-1046977493170065847</id><published>2009-11-12T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T14:28:59.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm going to try something new. Everyday I am going to name something that I am thankful for, and then write about it. Hopefully this will keep me motivated to update more often. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I am thankful for my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My family consists of many strange folk throughout the US and now Ireland and soon Australia. I love each and every member of my family, and I am beginning to learn that they are no more perfect than I am. I used to believe that I was the black-sheep of the family, I thought I was the one that everyone was ashamed of. However, I have recently learned that that is not so. I am loved and cared about by everyone in my family, and I love and care about them too. Recently I moved in with my Auntie Ruth (hi!) and my Uncle Sam. They are some of the most generous and loving people I have ever met. Because of them I am becoming comfortable with who I am. They show me everyday that they love me and that I am welcome here. And because of them, I am starting to find my way in life. I am becoming more and more independent everyday and I can feel myself becoming an adult. Don't get me wrong, I love and miss my mother and father, and Ruth and Sam will never replace them, but this change of scenery is extremely beneficial to my mental health. My mother is a role model to me in every sense of the word. She has been through so much in her life including becoming a mother at age fifteen and then raising my brother to be the man he is today. I know she often feels like she didn't do right by me, but I can recognize all of her efforts and I truly, deeply, know that she loves me more than the world. And I love her that much times a million. My father, he has some issues with anxiety just like I do, however, it's starting to eat away his life. He's becoming a shut-in and it worries me greatly. I somewhat regret moving out of his house because he now has no one to talk to during the day and I can imagine he gets lonely. I miss him and his laugh. I would visit him more often but that means that he would have to drive me back to Marblehead, and that ride tortures him. It makes him so anxious that he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. I hate to see him like that. I guess you could say that I am torn; I love him, and want to see him, but I just cant cause him that much anxiety. But because of all of the changes I have been put through in the last month or so, I have realized that I am nothing without the love and support of my family. They care for me more than I could ever imagine and I am eternally thankful for everything they have done and continue to do for me. Because of them I have rediscovered unconditional love, and therefore, my life has become richer than I could even imagine. I love you guys&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-1046977493170065847?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/1046977493170065847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-going-to-try-something-new.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1046977493170065847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1046977493170065847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-going-to-try-something-new.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-8391965518630506076</id><published>2009-11-11T15:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T16:07:51.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I've been feeling so much better about myself lately. I've been losing weight and I am just really pleased with my appearance. This, my readers, is something new and exciting. I have never been happy with how I looked before. There was always something to criticize, always something to be fixed. I would poke and prod at myself in the mirror and I would make funny faces at myself to try to draw some humor into the disappointment I was feeling. But now, when I look at myself, I can only see the positive and I no longer scrunch up my face... I smile. And who doesnt love a smile?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/SvsnNpb1JFI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CdT_-JpdlnA/s1600-h/004055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/SvsnNpb1JFI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CdT_-JpdlnA/s320/004055.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402955293375407186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-8391965518630506076?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/8391965518630506076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/ive-been-feeling-so-much-better-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8391965518630506076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8391965518630506076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/ive-been-feeling-so-much-better-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/SvsnNpb1JFI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CdT_-JpdlnA/s72-c/004055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-1253577595931762816</id><published>2009-11-07T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T18:05:40.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This (solely because I have purple hair) is my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today, I was riding the bus to work and a little girl was sitting across from me. I have bright purple hair, and today I had a scarf and nail polish to match. My phone rang, playing the theme song from Power Rangers. The little girl looked over and when I took off my hood to take the call, a look of awe came across her face. When I hung up she quietly asked if I was a purple Ranger. I winked and put my finger over my lips. She grinned and nodded. MLIA"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may now refer to me as the Purple Ranger. =]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-1253577595931762816?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/1253577595931762816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-solely-because-i-have-purple-hair.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1253577595931762816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/1253577595931762816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-solely-because-i-have-purple-hair.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-8986324231782646626</id><published>2009-11-06T02:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T02:12:49.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really just want to be content. I hear all this music and all it does is bring me to a time in my life that doesnt exist yet. It's an I'm-not-there-yet kind of place. It's a feeling composed of nostalgia, fear, longing, and regret. You wish it could be closer but at the same time further away. It's a moment filled with orange leaves, green grass, and a deep, setting sun. You run towards it. It beckons you, bribes you, pulls you forward with promises of happiness and the feeling that you finally belong. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can picture myself there sometimes, sitting in that green grass under the orange leaves reading a wonderful, meaningful book by some unknown author. I can picture myself pulling my hair back behind my ears, squinting at the setting sun. I can picture myself putting on my aviator sunglasses and wrapping one of my beloved scarves closer around my neck. I can picture myself finally being happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it scares me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I dont know why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-8986324231782646626?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/8986324231782646626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-really-just-want-to-be-content.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8986324231782646626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/8986324231782646626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-really-just-want-to-be-content.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-4731022739731441002</id><published>2009-11-02T03:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T02:19:13.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Christina is getting her own entry because she is amazing and reads my mindless rantings as if they were song lyrics. She is my girlfriend and I love her AND STUPID BOYS AND THEIR STUPID PENISES SHOULD TREAT HER WITH RESPECT! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-4731022739731441002?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/4731022739731441002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/christina-is-getting-her-own-entry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4731022739731441002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/4731022739731441002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/christina-is-getting-her-own-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-5543548547661218280</id><published>2009-11-02T03:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T03:28:28.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh what the fuck, who am I trying to impress?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-5543548547661218280?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/5543548547661218280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-what-fuck-who-am-i-trying-to-impress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5543548547661218280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/5543548547661218280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-what-fuck-who-am-i-trying-to-impress.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-7218762744805013077</id><published>2009-11-02T03:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T03:27:03.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is my life as of five minutes ago:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;write. smoke. write. smoke. write. smoke. tea. write write write. bite lip ring. rub yesterdays makeup out of my eyes. write. want to smoke but ran out of cigarettes. watch shitty phone comercial. think about why my boyfriend hasnt called me. write. assure christina I am not going to die. mess up my hair. mess with lip ring. pick at nail polish. write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-7218762744805013077?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/7218762744805013077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-is-my-life-as-of-five-minutes-ago.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7218762744805013077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/7218762744805013077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-is-my-life-as-of-five-minutes-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011116329119197394.post-876867436374179323</id><published>2009-11-02T03:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T02:46:48.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have decided that I'm not going to sleep tonight, I am just going to write. I havent written in quite some time and my fingers feel almost numb against my laptop keys. This is like entering a foreign territory but with a slight case of deja vu. I dont believe in mornings anymore. I sleep until my bones ache and my eyes are glued shut with crust. I hate television. I like pomegranate tea but not actual pomegranates. Does that make me a bad person? My head feels heavy with everything I have done, havent done, and have yet to do. I want to see in orange. Right now this moment isnt orange and I would like to change that. Tomorrow I am going to walk until i cant feel my feet anymore, and then I am going to turn around and walk back. I am also planning on smoking a million cigarettes before I die and I plan to be buried with a pack in my pocket. Hell, I want Marlboro to sponsor my funeral and have my lungs cut out and put on display. Better yet, turn them into pinatas and fill them with nicotine gum. Fuck, I'm just rambling now. Who the fuck cares, no one reads this anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dying my hair purple soon. Like you give a shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5011116329119197394-876867436374179323?l=happilyeveralex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/feeds/876867436374179323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-have-decided-that-im-not-going-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/876867436374179323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5011116329119197394/posts/default/876867436374179323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://happilyeveralex.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-have-decided-that-im-not-going-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Alexandra Emmett</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01207476228401193599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EjM3UMK6Pjg/Svez5w_kWvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DgtovZ68gaM/S220/004604.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
