<?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-8998896</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:37:53.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're all a little fragile.</title><subtitle type='html'>&amp;quot;I feel like I&amp;#39;m going to be sick and that&amp;#39;s okay. Instead of eating too much, I&amp;#39;m thinking too much &amp;amp; I need to throw up some of these thoughts before something vile happens.&amp;quot;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-5568314958773549129</id><published>2009-10-20T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:20:31.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>drinking alone. is that so bad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-5568314958773549129?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/5568314958773549129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=5568314958773549129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5568314958773549129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5568314958773549129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/10/drinking-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-7741996519931892330</id><published>2009-09-20T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T22:50:52.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>there's one thing i want to say...so i'll be brave</title><content type='html'>so a couple weeks ago i saw caleb again, to give me some muscle relaxers for my back and they helped my insonia. he gave me one of those romantic pick you up hugs. he kissed me right there and it was one of those memorable kind of moments. he had to to pick up his girls, so we didn't really talk. being a woman of modern technolgy and texted him. 'what was that?' he replied 'it just felt right.' ... 'i asked if there would be more in the futyre?' all he wrote was 'can do'&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so we talked a couple days after that and it just kinda went down hill after that. he rarely  replies to any of my texts. breaking my heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;last week i met a cute long haired blonde boy (the guy with the pot) at some party. he had me over to smoke and drink. i fogot about the extended release i had. that plus all those jager bombs, i'm sure you can guess what that resulted to. and i ended up disappointing alot of friends that were expecting me to be there. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i blacked out. said something terrible to my sister that i can't even remember. how can you even apologize for something like that?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so now i am on house arrest til i turn 21. that is about 5 months away. hopefully i'll get off for good behavior.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ps. me and the blonde boy hardly text now. it was all day of texting constantly. but then notta. he even just charged me 50 dollars for 2 grams of orange kush. i mean, i let this guy fuck me in the ass. (i don't really remember) but really you think he'd give me a deal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;pps. (pss.?)  i am under my covers writing this via cell phone. who am i anymore even?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-7741996519931892330?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7741996519931892330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=7741996519931892330' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/7741996519931892330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/7741996519931892330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/09/theres-one-thing-i-want-to-sayso-ill-be.html' title='there&apos;s one thing i want to say...so i&apos;ll be brave'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-844877663876049491</id><published>2009-09-04T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T01:12:38.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so self destructive.... so many xanax ... the little left of vodka i had and mint extract.... what am i doing? caleb said he might not be here for long. i want to die. i dont want to wake up tmrw. pls god HELP ME BE HAPPY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-844877663876049491?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/844877663876049491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=844877663876049491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/844877663876049491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/844877663876049491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-self-destructive.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-5107643915762927489</id><published>2009-09-02T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T00:05:38.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You wouldn't like me if you met me.</title><content type='html'>Every night I deal with insomnia. 3 hours of sleep tops, if I'm lucky. But all I want to do is sleep all day long, and pretend this world doesn't exsist. I can't even bring myself to get out of bed till 3 in the afternoon. Then, when I do I can barely sit in the living room with my family for more than 30 minutes, and all I want to do is lay in bed. I spend most of my time social networking, because I feel like it's the only way I can communicate anymore. All I can hope for is a human connection, online. I don't even know how to act around people anymore, unless I'm completely sloshed. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I ever want to do anymore is get wasted, but there's not even enough vodka in this cheap bottle to do it for me. My back and body is constantly in pain, not even all the Tylenol in the world can stop this. I'm so ridiculously lonely. I can't shake it. I just want to be numb. I don't want to feel anymore. I've become so self-loathing in the last few months. I don't know what to do with myself anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please, God, just help me to be happy again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-5107643915762927489?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/5107643915762927489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=5107643915762927489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5107643915762927489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5107643915762927489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-wouldnt-like-me-if-you-met-me.html' title='You wouldn&apos;t like me if you met me.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-2656442103384440126</id><published>2009-09-02T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T04:49:22.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>deep</title><content type='html'>pretty sure i just cut myself for the first time in so long. what have i become?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-2656442103384440126?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/2656442103384440126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=2656442103384440126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/2656442103384440126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/2656442103384440126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/09/deep.html' title='deep'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-5314747737531564296</id><published>2009-08-29T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T21:16:03.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.</title><content type='html'>I feel so disconnected from everyone/thing. I'm not ready for another cold lonely season.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kissed another guy last night, but now that the booze have worn off it doesn't make me feel any better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-5314747737531564296?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/5314747737531564296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=5314747737531564296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5314747737531564296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/5314747737531564296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/park-that-car-drop-that-phone-sleep-on.html' title='Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-7458031153768499387</id><published>2009-08-26T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T00:23:50.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I saw Caleb working at starbucks today, he acted like he barely even fucking knew me. So weak. It's the most awkward I've EVER felt around him, he didn't even give me a damn hug. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wtf? seriously??? It was awful... I will never enjoy my hazelnut/vanilla breve starbucks double shot the same again. I wanted to just scream at him so badly, but being the non-confrontational person I am, I didn't. I wish I had the ability to speak my mind to people, no matter what the circumstances. I am such a weak person. I'm ready for my doctors appointment next month, so ready to not feel like complete shit on a daily basis,  ready to get a real night of sleep, ready to stop my chronic anxiety. fml right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-7458031153768499387?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/7458031153768499387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=7458031153768499387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/7458031153768499387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/7458031153768499387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-saw-caleb-working-at-starbucks-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-3496542746487245265</id><published>2009-08-24T02:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:05:28.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i can't shake this feeling.</title><content type='html'>lately my stomache is constantly in knots in thoughts of how much i miss caleb. i haven't seen him since my drunken wine escapade, and we haven't talked, just vague text conversations. i feel so emotionally unstable about our relationship, or lack there of. this is just so shitty. i hate feeling so unsure about these things, i can barely get out of bed in the morning anymore. i'm so love-sick over this guy, it's just not like me anymore. i knew because children were involved this was going to be so much harder, i knew it and i still took a chance on him. he used to just give me pot, i asked him about some today (i offered to pay obviously) but HE ACCEPTED! i seriously could not believe it. it confuses me immensely not to mention it's the only thing that gets me through the days. BECAUSE OF HIM! or am i just being selfish here? &lt;p&gt;i just really need some answers, something not so vague. i just wish i had something to keep this all off my mind. working back at the bar again last night really helped, i miss working there. damn you patron for making a mockory of my life! having money is nice, retail therapy only lasts so long when you're broke. speaking of therapy, september 10th is too far away. finally a new doctor, hopefully this one won't be an ass. my chronic anxiety and absense of anti-depressants is NOT helping mentally or emotionally. wanting to die everyday and insomnia was not on the calendar for this month.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-3496542746487245265?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/3496542746487245265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=3496542746487245265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/3496542746487245265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/3496542746487245265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-cant-shake-this-feeling.html' title='i can&apos;t shake this feeling.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-1269171730245063249</id><published>2009-08-21T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T01:42:07.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Dealing with things way beyond my maturity level." Ellen Page said it right. I don't know what to do right now, this is all ahead of me. I'm trying to take it understandly and maturely.  Got a little too wasteyfaced this other night, and he totally flipped out on me. He already knew I can have a problem with alcohol.  "You showed a complete lack of self-control last night." he says. Shouldn't have been a suprise. Yet I feel as if he was waiting for me to fuck up to lay all this on me, but maybe I shouldn't be so pessimistic. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told people it was over. But that's not the case. I don't... think. This is all really confusing to me right now, being stoned isn't helping.But it's the only thing keeping me from being anxious. I've been on a liquid diet just to keep the dizziness at bay. Spending all my time alone, whether it be sleeping, living in my tv shows, social networking  in hope of a gaining some human connection, or just finding some sort of comfort writing this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically, it all comes down to the girls. They come first. Baby mama is getting pretty mean with him, she doesn't want to leave the home &lt;i&gt;he &lt;/i&gt;owns. Now is trying to take the girls. I'm feeling pretty awful about it, this is what I was afraid of in the beginning. "She's harmless." he says. Right. I hate when mom is right. But, being the doormat, understanding pisces I am. I will wait. I'm always waiting on something. Always waiting on someone. That's what it comes down to waiting for something else to happen or change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's so many words I want to spit out on this blog, but I can't seem to put them into sentences anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Medicated = Happiness, yet so unemotional.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Un-Medicated = The raw truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These past few weeks, I've been juggling the two ideas.... creative and sad? or thoughtless happiness?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm still so lost.&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/8998896-1269171730245063249?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/1269171730245063249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=1269171730245063249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/1269171730245063249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/1269171730245063249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/dealing-with-things-way-beyond-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-2996837546303789670</id><published>2009-08-19T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T22:08:55.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Apparently my last post was a complete lie. I don't want to believe it. But it is what it is. Haven't had these feelings in so long. I'd forgotten how awful it is. He didn't leave me nearly enough pot to get passed this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-2996837546303789670?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/2996837546303789670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=2996837546303789670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/2996837546303789670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/2996837546303789670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/apparently-my-last-post-was-complete.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-3032313258952754050</id><published>2009-08-11T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:34:18.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello nostalgia,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Nice to see you again, except not really at all. Bright Eyes comes on, and I'm back here again. Writing, waiting, wishing... This house feels so empty, yet it's filled with people,  and I'm so lonely. I'm more anti-social now than ever, I think I've forgotten how to communicate with the real world. But I can type every word I want to vomit out. I literally have no friends anymore, I sit at home every day with my family -- don't get me wrong, I love them. But I need some socializing. I pray on a daily basis that my sister will want to go to starbucks, just so I can get out of the house. My sister and Caleb are the only people I spend time with, at all. Caleb is great, he really does make my days brighter. But I'm afraid every day of getting hurt. Been crushing on him ever since I saw him at starbucks, never thought anything of it because he has two kids and a baby mama. Yet I'm here, with him. I've never had anyone treat me so good, and it scares me even more. First person to ever say "I'm not gonna fuck you in a car, you're too good for that." Sad, but true.  Makes me upset to think I give myself up so easy, but it's the only thing that's ever made me feel wanted by another human-being. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every day I paint my face with make up and dress myself in hopes to become someone else (other than myself), someone desirable, someone worth being with. I want so badly to be wanted. I want Caleb to want me, but I can't help but have pessimism in the back of my mind. Someone who knows the way to my heart; can and will do what they want with it. Break it into pieces, hang it around their neck, or nail it to the wall as another trophy for the game I'll never win. I would be so happy with a stable relationship with him; finally someone who has emotions like mine... And really understands. Someone who is finally mature, and I love it.  He's got a busy life, which I like because he doesn't hang on me like Nolan did. I don't see him daily, so I get a chance to miss him, which is so nice.  I should just make a list of all of his wonderful qualities, because there's so much. But sometimes I'm not really sure how he feels about me, I can't quite read him this early in. I think he respects the fact I know he's a daddy first, always.  I get it, if you have them, children are the most important, they come first. His girls are wonderful, they are too sweet. I just love kids.. so much. They get along with me too, and that's very important to him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want us to be happy, together. I want us to be serious, which I think is possible because his last two relationships have been 7-8 years. But, he's never gotten married (not that it's a bad thing for me), which really confuses me. I feel that a question like that is out-of-bounds. Though he's told me a lot of VERY personal things, but he's also shared them with my sister, but also told my sister things he didn't tell me. I don't know, I'm just starting to ramble...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-3032313258952754050?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/3032313258952754050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=3032313258952754050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/3032313258952754050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/3032313258952754050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-nostalgia.html' title='Hello nostalgia,'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-6813886254744509338</id><published>2009-08-10T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T22:51:09.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>I love that I named this the breathing room, because I love that song. &amp;amp; I feel as if I can actually BREATHE my thoughts on here... it's been a rough day. I am unmedicated because my doctor is a complete ASS. I haven't gotten a real night of sleep in over a month. I've been off cymbalta for almost three days, and I'm literally going insane. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; stress colapses into me and got lost in so many tears. pulled hair from my scalp in frustration, sirrors that stare me dead in the eye to put to the skin, I had the strenghth to put them out of sight... these words are falling on the floor and I can't seem to pick them up...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-6813886254744509338?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/6813886254744509338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=6813886254744509338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/6813886254744509338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/6813886254744509338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-8610174932740668134</id><published>2009-08-10T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T22:40:41.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year in the making...</title><content type='html'>Wow,  it's been a year, yet again. Actually more. I'm watching will &amp;amp; grace laughing at my last post. I am no longer with that boy. I went through a terrible time with him a whole year of crying, therapy, cutting myself and leaving scars emotionally and physically. I've been cheated on, broken up with, and a lush. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all over now though (except the lush part) . Since then, I've been employed, fired, sexually harassed by Albanian men, blacked out, in an ambulance, hospitalized, moved away from home, moved back, dated 6 people, had sex with more, had my first lesbian experience, had my heart broken &amp;amp; stabbed by "friends".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Currently I'm pretty anti-social, medicated, an insomniac, still drinking, still smoking, dating a man 12 years older than me, [has two daughters, lives in the house he owns with his baby mama, though she is a very nice woman. It's a weird situation, though I thouroghly understand it] very happy with him,  going to church less than I'd like &amp;amp; working in the nursery sometimes, drinking so much starbucks, unemployed, addicted to television, and always talking about politics. Basically I've become an old lady, stangely I'm okay with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-8610174932740668134?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/8610174932740668134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=8610174932740668134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/8610174932740668134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/8610174932740668134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-year-in-making.html' title='Another year in the making...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-6517582231511261236</id><published>2007-10-30T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T11:33:28.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A years worth.</title><content type='html'>So it's really been a while. In the past year.... I have had my ups and downs. Well, it was the most intense summer of my life I've experienced  sleepless nights of blow, the bliss of ecstasy, life changing realities of shrooms and acid. I've seen who and what is real and fake. I slept with 7 different guys, only one whom I had mixed emotions for and got royally fucked over. And the rest I've learned not to get attached, and I did that well. I've drank gallons and gallons worth of alcohol, and kissed dozens of men and women. I'm so glad I didn't completely fall down that hole, and picked myself up from it with help. But now, in the last 7 months it's all turned around for the better, I smoke weed and cigarettes and just stopped drinking. About 6 months ago I kissed the last guy I will ever kiss. I've finally fallen in love with someone amazing. It happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-6517582231511261236?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/6517582231511261236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=6517582231511261236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/6517582231511261236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/6517582231511261236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-havent-updated-in-over-year.html' title='A years worth.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-114800928620016445</id><published>2006-05-18T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T20:28:06.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i seriously dont understand why i am so undesirable for a relationship...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have tits and an ass.. i put out.. i'm intelligent. WHAT MORE DO YOU BASTARDS WANT?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-114800928620016445?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/114800928620016445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=114800928620016445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/114800928620016445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/114800928620016445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-seriously-dont-understand-why-i-am.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-113988242502249994</id><published>2006-02-13T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T18:00:25.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Chelsey,</title><content type='html'>I was really fucked up last night that's why I came over to your house and you were fucked up too so I figured you'd at least suck my dick. But I blew my load too fast and couldn't keep it up long enough for us to even have sex. Now I'm going to sweet talk you for a day so you won't tell anyone about it, then I'm going to ignore you until I unexpectedly see you next. Thanks, Aaron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's what he should have said. Stupid piece of shit. Oh well, I'm already over it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-113988242502249994?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/113988242502249994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=113988242502249994' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113988242502249994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113988242502249994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2006/02/hey-chelsey.html' title='Hey Chelsey,'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-113925231403161696</id><published>2006-02-06T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T17:49:02.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while.</title><content type='html'>Since last time I wrote: I drink too much coffee, smoke too many cigarettes, smoke way too much weed, drink beer, hang out with Jesse almost every day. It's a crazy world, I've become the person I never thought I'd be. But I guess you could say I'm happy about life right now, only because I can't feel any different. I've been taking Paxil for the last month or so and doesn't let me feel anything but happy. Seems great right? Not as well as you think, sometimes you just need that cry, sometimes you just need to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt;. But as of now it's not possible yet, I'll be off of it soon, because honestly I can't stand not being able to feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-113925231403161696?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/feeds/113925231403161696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8998896&amp;postID=113925231403161696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113925231403161696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113925231403161696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-113013884729049738</id><published>2005-10-24T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T00:27:27.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting scared.</title><content type='html'>So tonight Heather and I chatted about life, and I realized that I'm so scared of being left behind by my friends, so scared of being forgotten, ever since that thing with Abbey, it makes me so sad to think about it... Like a first love. But not quite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My future is looking pretty terrific.&lt;br /&gt;Ginny thinks she found a house for about 560 a month, which is 230 a month split down the middle. Ginny's dad is paying for her's, so she said she'd help me pay for my half. I get 623 dollars a month, if I remember correctly. So that leaves me about 443 if Ginny helps me out 50 bucks worth.&lt;br /&gt;-100 for food.&lt;br /&gt;343&lt;br /&gt;-50 for power&lt;br /&gt;293&lt;br /&gt;-20 for water&lt;br /&gt;273&lt;br /&gt;-15 for internet&lt;br /&gt;258&lt;br /&gt;-243&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure there's more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-113013884729049738?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113013884729049738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/113013884729049738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/10/getting-scared.html' title='Getting scared.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112931850644208566</id><published>2005-10-14T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T12:35:06.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;:O</title><content type='html'>I LOVE HOW SOME PEOPLE ONLY TALK TO ME WHEN THEY NEED SOMETHING. AWESOME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112931850644208566?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112931850644208566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112931850644208566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/10/o.html' title='&gt;:O'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112891046643879837</id><published>2005-10-09T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T19:15:19.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have this friend.</title><content type='html'>That I hate and love at the same time. She makes me feel like complete shit. Not that she says anything that makes me feel that way, it's just... She's so much more pretty than me, skinnier than me, just all around better I suppose. Everyone seems to like her much more than me, and it kills me. Whitney and I used to be like best friends, but then when Alexis comes around. Her head is up Alexis's ass, and she COMPLETELY ignores me when she's around. Now I feel like she is starting to take Julie from me.. and it makes me sick. It makes me not want to hang out with her at all, because I lose all self-esteem. I'm jealous and selfish I know, but I don't know what to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112891046643879837?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112891046643879837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112891046643879837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-have-this-friend.html' title='I have this friend.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112864418585982881</id><published>2005-10-06T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T17:16:25.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>october 11th</title><content type='html'>remember to tell casey:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#0000ff;"&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt; (1:51:57  AM)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#0000ff;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; me and travis are starting a band  called KK Holiday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112864418585982881?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112864418585982881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112864418585982881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-11th.html' title='october 11th'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112823507513818739</id><published>2005-10-01T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T23:37:55.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm nauseous.</title><content type='html'>My former best friend who I care about so much and was there for her through her drug addiction and all of that now that she's better chooses not to be friends with me and to chooses Kay (The girl who fucked me and my family over so badly last summer) over me when she's all better. Was Kay there for her? No she was in fucking LA doing meth. Was Kay there tonight for Abbey's first show infront of her peers? No. Where was she? Good fucking question. Tonight Kay had the nerve to shall I say "kick" me out of her house, and who was there to back me up and be my friend? Not Abbey, that's for sure. That makes me absolutely sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm so bitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112823507513818739?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112823507513818739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112823507513818739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/10/im-nauseous.html' title='I&apos;m nauseous.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112806968203436708</id><published>2005-09-30T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T01:41:53.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little more in depth.</title><content type='html'>I'm sufficating in this town, and honestly it's making me sick to my stomache. More than anything I'd love to get away from here and go home to California, but there is something tugging at my heart telling me to stay. I want to stay close to my family and friends. Still, I'd love to move to Dallas, but I don't know if I feel mature enough to do so, I can't drive, I haven't graduated, I don't have a job, and I can barely work my dvd player. But I want so badly to leave here, just get away... People's attitudes and masks are starting to frustrate me to no extent, I barely have any good friends anymore because they are all up each other's asses and ignore me,  the ones I have are leaving soon... And my age is holding me back, my maturity is way ahead of me and the years are going by way too slow. But there's nothing I can do about that. I know people and my life will be like that everywhere, but I just need a change I suppose. I feel so left out in this town, like I don't belong here... I get tired of going to shows, mall, and hastings every week because there is nothing else to do here. I'm such a city girl, and that's what I need... Bright lights, people walking the streets at 1am like it was 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and being able to pick 1 out of 10 shows instead of just going to the one show a week because there is nothing else to do.&lt;br /&gt; I want to meet musicians, photographers, painters, bums, writers, hookers, drunks, someone to spend my life with, etc and not via internet, I want to meet them in real life. I won't meet them in Wichita Falls. I want to live my life. My dog is sitting here in my lap, and he never does that, he knows how I'm feeling and that I need someone right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112806968203436708?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112806968203436708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112806968203436708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/little-more-in-depth.html' title='A little more in depth.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112788938184980849</id><published>2005-09-27T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T23:36:21.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasted words on lower cases and capitals.</title><content type='html'>I want to write something so badly, but I can't find the exact words to say it. And I always find myself back to writing to the same problems until they are fixed.Why do I give myself away to ease the pain? I question myself about this so much, and I never have an answer. But, I mean, is it really such a bad thing? I get so upset over other people's addiction to drugs and alcohol, am I doing the same thing as them? Or is it completely different? These are really all rhetorical questions that I ask myself. I just want someone to love me, just for one night at a time. I'm always running away, always fearing what could be, or what could be torn to shreads in a matter of minutes. Will he always be in the back of my mind? I don't think I'll ever be fully over the first one who treated me like I mattered. I wish I could just think of something different for one moment, it's driving me mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish people could keep their mouth's shut. Maybe this is why I don't associate with Wichita boys in fear they will open their mouths (What a surprise.) and someone gets hurt, or upset with me. Damn boys, and the pleasures they give that I yearn for so badly. I hate them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112788938184980849?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112788938184980849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112788938184980849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/wasted-words-on-lower-cases-and.html' title='Wasted words on lower cases and capitals.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112759702240256090</id><published>2005-09-24T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T14:23:42.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>haha, fuck i hate awkward-ness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i hate when casey tells me he loves me all the gawddamn time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112759702240256090?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112759702240256090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112759702240256090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/haha-fuck-i-hate-awkward-ness.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112685544962254410</id><published>2005-09-16T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T00:24:09.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>alcoholic vs. cocaine addict?</title><content type='html'>well at least alcohol is better than cocaine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112685544962254410?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112685544962254410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112685544962254410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/alcoholic-vs-cocaine-addict.html' title='alcoholic vs. cocaine addict?'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112659387702112879</id><published>2005-09-12T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T23:44:37.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>all i got to say is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;WHAT THE FUCK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112659387702112879?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112659387702112879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112659387702112879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/all-i-got-to-say-is.html' title='all i got to say is'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112639414797454004</id><published>2005-09-10T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T16:15:47.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ERG</title><content type='html'>i havent eaten in about a day.&lt;br /&gt;i'm on the rag.&lt;br /&gt;and i feel so weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want food ... soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;movies tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;i love dallas so much.&lt;br /&gt;i live up there so bad.&lt;br /&gt;i loved hanging out with casey all night.&lt;br /&gt;it makes me happy jesse likes him.&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worst feeling in the world= having a crush the size of Texas on someone, and not having one bit of a chance with the person.&lt;br /&gt;but what else is new?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112639414797454004?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112639414797454004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112639414797454004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/09/erg.html' title='ERG'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112544569163828767</id><published>2005-08-30T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T16:58:12.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, it'd be cool if people would stop blowing me off today.&lt;br /&gt;Three Dr. Peppers today, and life isn't getting any better yet. I can't concentrate on school work or get anything done this week, it's terrible. I'm going insane for reasons I don't know, Casey and his girlfriend leave for California on Friday. I'm not sure why but it makes me so insanely jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to visit California so badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I leave for Dallas about about 12 PM and I have never been so excited about getting out even if it's only for half a day, not sure why... I just need to get away from everyone and everything right about now, it'll do me good to leave and be around some diversity and good live music. Hah- And I found out Casey and Travis are going to the Acceptance show... And so is Ryan. hahaha... Oh my, it's going to be an interesting night. I hope I get to see Casey Taylor tomorrow, even if it's just for a little bit... fingerscrossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kay has been back about two weeks and honestly, she makes me want to punch infants in the face. She thinks she's going to turn Abbey's life around, I told her just because she was back didn't mean Abbey was going to change. Just because she got a slap of reality by almost overdosing on meth and "getting raped" (We all know Kay) doesn't mean shit. Seriously, and she's trying to get her to just get up and leave this place, when she's still in school, still working, no I take that back it doesn't make me want to punch infants in the face it makes me want to punch HER in the face. And she brags about everything possible, "oh yeah I dated shia lebeouf" ... "yeah bert mccracken is a sweet guy with a really nice house." Fuckher, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well in other news, I'm both nervous and excited about my show this weekend. I hope I get alot of kids out there, and make enough money. Prayers? Even though I cursed throughout this entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112544569163828767?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112544569163828767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112544569163828767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/08/hey-itd-be-cool-if-people-would-stop.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112542205815147668</id><published>2005-08-30T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T10:14:18.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hilarious.</title><content type='html'>my text messages go like this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;ryan&lt;br /&gt;casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha, oh I crack myself up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112542205815147668?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112542205815147668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112542205815147668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/08/hilarious.html' title='Hilarious.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112538411700947504</id><published>2005-08-29T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T23:41:57.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hah.</title><content type='html'>... hour later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"love you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112538411700947504?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112538411700947504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112538411700947504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/08/hah.html' title='Hah.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112538026551488761</id><published>2005-08-29T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T22:37:45.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>never.</title><content type='html'>Casey:"okkk later"&lt;br /&gt;Me:"payce"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never wanted a conversation to end like that with him..ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112538026551488761?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112538026551488761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112538026551488761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/08/never.html' title='never.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112430989139775896</id><published>2005-08-17T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T13:20:20.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wish I was more in love with the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was a better friend.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was cuter.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was more desirable.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had better skin.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my hair was longer.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I wasn't sick.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could stop missing him.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could drive.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't have social anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my friends would stop doing drugs.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my friends would stop drinking, every night.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was more trusting.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was thinner.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could stop being so pessamistic.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be in California.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had Robbie with me.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I'd stop falling in love with the impossible.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was as old as I act.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a job.&lt;br /&gt;I wish had more eyelashes.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I didn't have asthma.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my family had more money.&lt;br /&gt;I wish all of my friends could be happy, and stop hurting.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be a little taller.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was smarter.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could travel, and photograph the world.&lt;br /&gt;I wish he could love me like I'd love him.&lt;br /&gt;I wish people would stop being so sketchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could stop wishing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112430989139775896?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112430989139775896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112430989139775896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-wish-i-was-more-in-love-with-lord.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-112025241874727864</id><published>2005-07-01T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T14:13:38.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while</title><content type='html'>But last night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;I MISSED HIM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-112025241874727864?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112025241874727864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/112025241874727864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111739542999175381</id><published>2005-05-29T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T00:55:06.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like I wouldn't like me if I met me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We bought 16 bottles of Boone's&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Jacob's&lt;br /&gt;-Drank lots-o-Boone's&lt;br /&gt;-Did stuff with Jesse even though he has a girlfriend.. and earlier that night she called me and was balling about her and Jesse fighting&lt;br /&gt;-Brought a good innocent Olivia with me, and she drank and did bad shit too&lt;br /&gt;-Let Matt touch my boobs for his "graduation present"&lt;br /&gt;-Boys made out, we flashed them in return.&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Jesse's&lt;br /&gt;-Smoked pot&lt;br /&gt;-Watched Porn&lt;br /&gt;-I was really pissed off because Krista and Jesse slept in the same bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that I just fucking wanted to go home.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a piece of shit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111739542999175381?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111739542999175381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111739542999175381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-feel-like-i-wouldnt-like-me-if-i-met.html' title='I feel like I wouldn&apos;t like me if I met me.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111706345421244522</id><published>2005-05-25T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T16:24:14.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happy.</title><content type='html'>today&lt;br /&gt;i saw abbey for the first time in over a month&lt;br /&gt;she came over&lt;br /&gt;and lurking internet and ate brownies&lt;br /&gt;like we used to&lt;br /&gt;oh my gosh&lt;br /&gt;i missed her so much&lt;br /&gt;i almost started crying&lt;br /&gt;i held back though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'm crying now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111706345421244522?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111706345421244522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111706345421244522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/happy.html' title='happy.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111704743138389169</id><published>2005-05-25T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T11:57:33.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bleh</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; Working. I really miss you. I cried last night because i missed you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and how ironic that "The Real Thing" by Gwen Stefani is playing while he just said that.&lt;br /&gt;phaggot.o;dlfd;l;gl;gfl;gflg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111704743138389169?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111704743138389169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111704743138389169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/bleh.html' title='bleh'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111648011336289376</id><published>2005-05-18T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T22:21:53.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I get really horny when I'm drunk&lt;br /&gt;HAHHAAH.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck i need to do schooll work for shzizle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111648011336289376?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111648011336289376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111648011336289376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-get-really-horny-when-im-drunk.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111639633099634364</id><published>2005-05-17T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T23:05:31.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hhshahaah diets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm scared to literally lose one of my best friends to addiction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111639633099634364?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111639633099634364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111639633099634364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/hhshahaah-diets.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111596641216820806</id><published>2005-05-12T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T23:40:51.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well it takes one to know one, kid, I think you've got it bad.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;breakfast&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two pieces of toast with the healthy butter crap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lunch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spinach salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kfc... like i said i suck at dieting.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I'm hungry right now but sadness is overcoming my hunger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julie told me that Dahlia saw Abbey yesterday&lt;br /&gt;and said "she looked like shit"&lt;br /&gt;like really thin, baggy eyes.,&lt;br /&gt;aka-coked out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sad.&lt;br /&gt;I want her to get better so bad.&lt;br /&gt;More than anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would trade anything to have my old girl back&lt;br /&gt;I miss her so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111596641216820806?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111596641216820806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111596641216820806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/well-it-takes-one-to-know-one-kid-i.html' title='Well it takes one to know one, kid, I think you&apos;ve got it bad.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111588193174974430</id><published>2005-05-12T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T00:38:51.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>diet day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;breakfast&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;orange&lt;br /&gt;toast with some healthy butter crap&lt;br /&gt;3 slices of turkey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lunch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spinach salad&lt;br /&gt;turkey sandwhich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;snack&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spinach salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;pizza w/ mushroom.. I SUCK AT DIETING&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dessert&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kiwi slush with 4 shots of vodka MMMMM&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Alex and I discussed doing it...again..MMMMM&lt;br /&gt;there's no such thing as romance and making love.. it's all games and fucking when you're 16&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay and seriously... WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; did you and greg ever have a thing for each other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: HAHAHA SAY WHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: no way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Greg is a slut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; hmnmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: hahahah why do you say that&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: ??????????///&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: yes? no ? cheeseeE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111588193174974430?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111588193174974430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111588193174974430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/diet-day-2.html' title='diet day 2'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111579311576412332</id><published>2005-05-10T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T23:33:28.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>diet day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;breakfast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;orange&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;turkey and pepperjack cheese sandwhich&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;tuna sandwhich&lt;br /&gt;+crackers&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dessert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;toasted bread with peanut butter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abbey called me today, first time in over a week at least.&lt;br /&gt;we talked for about 2 minutes, and she said she was pulling up to her house and she'd call me RIGHT back.&lt;br /&gt;No call back.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad she called me, and I could hear her voice and know that she's alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out my schoolwork was alot less than I had thought&lt;br /&gt;I'm extremely happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;One less thing to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll have more time to learn my drivers handbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111579311576412332?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111579311576412332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111579311576412332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/diet-day-1.html' title='diet day 1'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111575850001728653</id><published>2005-05-10T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T13:55:00.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>working up.</title><content type='html'>DIETING. DDR. schoolwork. driving handbook. church. growing my hair out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things i'm working on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111575850001728653?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111575850001728653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111575850001728653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/working-up.html' title='working up.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111568474583488589</id><published>2005-05-09T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T17:27:46.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Picture Share!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4544/637/0/unnamed-image-1-745834.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I wish I could make myself happy again&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111568474583488589?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111568474583488589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111568474583488589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/picture-share.html' title='A Picture Share!'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111536088840685237</id><published>2005-05-05T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T23:28:08.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fuckkkkschool.</title><content type='html'>my homework was to write an essay on a memorable day in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the first thing that came to my mind was&lt;br /&gt;that day Casey and I layed in my bed for hours just holding hands and listening to beautiful music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pretty sad right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111536088840685237?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111536088840685237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111536088840685237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/fuckkkkschool.html' title='fuckkkkschool.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111519305030067323</id><published>2005-05-04T02:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T00:52:21.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So much.</title><content type='html'>I have so much on my mind here it is in random thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss abbey. i feel like i'm going through a horrible break-up&lt;br /&gt;only.. with a friendship.&lt;br /&gt;i haven't seen her in over a week.&lt;br /&gt;this is seriously the longest i've gone without seeing her, ever.&lt;br /&gt;(when she wasn't out of town)&lt;br /&gt;gossssh. i'm sad. i'm so worried about her.&lt;br /&gt;i just can't believe she lied about telling her mom about the drugs&lt;br /&gt;and made all of that up.&lt;br /&gt;i can't believe she's been lying to me for so long&lt;br /&gt;i want her to stop doing this.&lt;br /&gt;i want her to get help so bad.&lt;br /&gt;i've never been friends with anyone who's done drugs like this.&lt;br /&gt;and i just don't know how to help her. or what to do.&lt;br /&gt;i just want her to get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i'm losing all my friends.&lt;br /&gt;jess.. has a girlfriend now. so i never see her.&lt;br /&gt;kay is gone to california.&lt;br /&gt;abbey just doesn't call me&lt;br /&gt;whitney.. i feel like she's getting sick of me.&lt;br /&gt;casey we haven't &lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt; talked in about a month&lt;br /&gt;those are the only good friends i have.&lt;br /&gt;though i still have jessse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm glad i don't have to worry about boys right now.&lt;br /&gt;cause it's definately something i wouldn't be able to handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just feel like everyone i love is slipping away from me, slowly, but surely.&lt;br /&gt;yesterday i found out a girl i was good friends with in elementary school&lt;br /&gt;died in a car accident. it's not that i know her anymore.&lt;br /&gt;it's just weird, that someone i once knew died.&lt;br /&gt;when i saw this website&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brittanycurcio.net"&gt;www.brittanycurcio.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to cry when i saw it, but, i couldn't&lt;br /&gt;i just felt really numb.&lt;br /&gt;aaaaaahdjksfsdf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm turning into a fucking fatass. i need to go to the gym.&lt;br /&gt;i need to learn to drive, so i can fucking take MYSELF to gym.&lt;br /&gt;i really can't wait to learn to drive now.&lt;br /&gt;and do whatever i want., whenever the fuck i want.&lt;br /&gt;and i don't have to rely on my friends to take me places&lt;br /&gt;like the gym, tanning, food, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuckass&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111519305030067323?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111519305030067323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111519305030067323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/05/so-much.html' title='So much.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111423805406317476</id><published>2005-04-22T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T23:34:14.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I so worried about Abbey.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111423805406317476?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111423805406317476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111423805406317476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-so-worried-about-abbey.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111380788053656546</id><published>2005-04-18T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T00:04:40.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>on a lighter note</title><content type='html'>I've recovered from the Casey disease&lt;br /&gt;I've moved on-ward&lt;br /&gt;and I no longer have any intimate feelings toward him what-so-ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111380788053656546?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111380788053656546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111380788053656546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/04/on-lighter-note.html' title='on a lighter note'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111380754449275723</id><published>2005-04-17T23:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T23:59:04.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I didn't know one of my best friends has been on a drug binge since spring break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did I not know?&lt;br /&gt;I feel so fucking horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have not have been so mad at her for not calling me back until 6 hours later&lt;br /&gt;I should have called her back the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;I should have.&lt;br /&gt;I probably could have been there for her that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuckfuckfuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel horrible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111380754449275723?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111380754449275723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111380754449275723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/04/wow.html' title='Wow.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111299766903960817</id><published>2005-04-08T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T15:01:09.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eccckk</title><content type='html'>today sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like crap.&lt;br /&gt;abbey went tanning without me&lt;br /&gt;and i started crying?&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure that's not why i was really crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel worthless&lt;br /&gt;like no one loves me&lt;br /&gt;not that they don't&lt;br /&gt;but they can't&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i keep pushing people away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really nostalgic lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want this to pass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111299766903960817?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111299766903960817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111299766903960817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/04/eccckk.html' title='eccckk'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111264270111237932</id><published>2005-04-04T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-04T12:34:06.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress is my creativity.</title><content type='html'>(this was originally posted in my new livejournal, but I put it in here instead)&lt;br /&gt;I just noticed when I really stressed about things I try and be creative.&lt;br /&gt;Make webpages, write, take pictures, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stepdad was taken to the emergency room this morning.&lt;br /&gt;I was laying in bed and I didn't really know what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;But, I knew it was bad.&lt;br /&gt;So I just layed in bed and pretended to be asleep because I was scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's home now. And is okay. I'm so realived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now. I really dislike the male species.&lt;br /&gt;Most of them anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just plain sick of their shit, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;Things with this boy just aren't working,&lt;br /&gt;and I'm not going to take an effort to make it work either.&lt;br /&gt;But, then again maybe I just pushed him away.&lt;br /&gt;I tend to do that these day.&lt;br /&gt;Push people away, because I'm scared of them.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of being scared.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of getting fucked over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to settle for anyone less than I deserve anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I'm done with the people who treat me like shit.&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop letting people walk all over me.&lt;br /&gt;And get the best of my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want..&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will treat me like they care. And they do care.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will talk about stupid shit with me. But they're still intelligent.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will kiss me and not care who's watching.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will send me lots of text messages.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will cuddle in bed with me and listen to beautiful music.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will walk in the park with me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will take silly pictures with me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will hold my hand.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will tease me (but not too much), and let me tease them back.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will understand how sensitive I am.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who's not addicted to the internet/myspace.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will get snowcones with me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who is really easy to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who can make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who gives me butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will not just be a sweet talker.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will just love me, and let me love them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think finding this "Someone" is so possible right now.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Casey is coming to visit me on Sunday for our "Anniversary".&lt;br /&gt;We met a year ago on Sunday (April 10th)&lt;br /&gt;Makes me happy that he's coming to see me just because of that.&lt;br /&gt;The other night was the first time I ever confided in Casey,&lt;br /&gt;he made me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday he said we'll go on a "date".&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to buy him dinner because I owe him for when he bought me Chick-Fil-A,&lt;br /&gt;we're going to watch Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas because I've never seen it,&lt;br /&gt;and it's his favorite movie.&lt;br /&gt;Then we're going to go to the metal show,&lt;br /&gt;because I want to show him the reaaaal Wichita Falls. Hah.&lt;br /&gt;I love Casey, I really do.&lt;br /&gt;But I love him so much more as just a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Because my emotional stability is no longer set on his actions.&lt;br /&gt;And I like it better this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to concentrate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111264270111237932?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111264270111237932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111264270111237932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/04/stress-is-my-creativity.html' title='Stress is my creativity.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111104648986751588</id><published>2005-03-16T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T00:01:29.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe Not?</title><content type='html'>The other night was not how I thought it would be. I wasn't upset at all, I really enjoy Chris's company, he makes me laugh hysterically, always wants to hang out, and text messages me like crazy. I don't have to fight for his attention really, I kind of like that, but then again I do like a challege sometimes. But the thing is I don't know how he really feels about me, he seems like a person who keeps his feelings to himself, and I don't know if he's macking on other girls, not that is matters really.  I also love that he's not a sweet talker AT ALL, he says some sweet things sometimes like in reply to my(heart) "I have it somewhere it's lost" and he said "I could help you look" and some occasional things like that are nice. No pet names "baby, angel, love, darling, sweetheart" I really like that, and I don't know why because I'm so used to it. He doesn't participate in the whole internet thing, mostly because he doesn't have a computer, so I REALLY like that... alot. But, I will say that I don't like his friends so much. That's the only down-side so far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111104648986751588?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111104648986751588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111104648986751588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/maybe-not.html' title='Maybe Not?'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111067087758946149</id><published>2005-03-12T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T15:41:17.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Sucks.</title><content type='html'>Every time I go on a "date" I feel shitty right before I go..&lt;br /&gt;I remember last time I went out on a date, you know got all pretty before and what not, it was with Colby. And I was crushing horribly on Casey.&lt;br /&gt;But I was thinking about Jesse... And I cried before I left, and everything we did that night reminded me of what Jesse and I used to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm thinking about Casey.&lt;br /&gt;This fucking sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111067087758946149?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111067087758946149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111067087758946149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/this-sucks.html' title='This Sucks.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111051544422276455</id><published>2005-03-10T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T20:36:23.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm fucked up.</title><content type='html'>Robbie, I'm sure you're reading this and maybe you could tell me what the hell is wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost every time I do anything&lt;br /&gt;It's somehow decided on Casey, and it's annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll go to put on an away message&lt;br /&gt;"hmm, maybe this will make Casey think *this* or *this*"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think I'll get drunk tonight so I have an excuse to call Casey"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe if I post this picture on my xanga Casey will be jealous"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I bet if I put this lyric on my profile it'll piss him off"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND EVERYTHING ALONG THOSE LINES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S SAD AND PATHETIC, I KNOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T KNOW WHYYY I DO IT.&lt;br /&gt;IT'S LIKE I CAN'T HELP IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE THE CASEY DISEASE.&lt;br /&gt;FUCKING STDs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111051544422276455?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111051544422276455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111051544422276455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-fucked-up.html' title='I&apos;m fucked up.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-111035124311741808</id><published>2005-03-08T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T22:54:03.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>:/</title><content type='html'>I'm&lt;br /&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;band&lt;br /&gt;slut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhh, kill me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-111035124311741808?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111035124311741808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/111035124311741808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/blog-post.html' title=':/'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110981788051790298</id><published>2005-03-02T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T18:44:40.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I should be studying "Injury Prevention and First Aid" But...</title><content type='html'>I miss the little things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I miss &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; looks.&lt;br /&gt;I miss kissing his lips. His cheek. His forehead.&lt;br /&gt;I miss running my fingers through his long hair.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the phone calls before bed.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the voicemails.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the random text messages like "I kissed you in a style Clark Gable would have admired." every day.&lt;br /&gt;I miss "I love you better."&lt;br /&gt;I miss holding his hand.&lt;br /&gt;I miss having something to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;I miss going to visit him at work.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him giving me kisses while he was suppose to be working.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the way he looked while he made pizza.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the time we sat on that bench and I heard one of our songs, and I tapped him on the shoulder and he looked me in the eyes and knew exactly what I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the posts on his journal about me.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the kisses in public and not caring who saw.&lt;br /&gt;I miss anticipating the next time I saw him.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the night we met.&lt;br /&gt;I miss cuddling on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him coming to visit me.&lt;br /&gt;I miss eating his frosty from Wendy's in his car.&lt;br /&gt;I miss laying in my bed with him cuddling, kissing, and listening to good music.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him introducing me to his friends as "my girl".&lt;br /&gt;I miss singing with him at the Every Time I Die show.&lt;br /&gt;I miss telling him to drive the speed limit.&lt;br /&gt;I miss his notes.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the cute pictures we took.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the kisses on the forehead.&lt;br /&gt;I miss his jean jacket.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it was all fake... I miss the feeling of all of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110981788051790298?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110981788051790298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110981788051790298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-should-be-studying-injury-prevention.html' title='I should be studying &quot;Injury Prevention and First Aid&quot; But...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110975161464784195</id><published>2005-03-02T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T00:20:14.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Casey called me this afternoon to tell me that he was at On The Border drinking margaritas and getting wasted. He said "I know you worry about me when I get drunk, so I thought I'd call you to tell you I'm getting drunk." Umm, sure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To-Do List:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Do THREE lessons&lt;br /&gt;-Gym (abs and yoga class)&lt;br /&gt;-No cheating on the diet&lt;br /&gt;-Order Hot Hot Heat tickets&lt;br /&gt;-Laundry&lt;br /&gt;-Clean room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fgl;dfg;ldgdfg&lt;br /&gt;okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110975161464784195?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110975161464784195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110975161464784195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/casey-called-me-this-afternoon-to-tell.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110972943067077720</id><published>2005-03-01T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T01:49:26.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>----------------- Original Message -----------------&lt;br /&gt;From: &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&amp;amp;friendID=4816189&amp;amp;Mytoken=20050301094136"&gt;Ginny&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: Mar 1, 2005 07:49 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im such a stupid person. I read the comments on Kc's .. and Casey's My Space .. it made me start sobbing. .. I just dont understand this shit Chelsey. In less than a week he confessed his love for two diferent chicks .. in SEVEN fucking days .. my comment was on the 17th, her's on the 27th .. and shes in love with him too ... Does he fake it? .. Does he fall in love that easily? .. I dont know, but it hurts me SO much a ) to have lost him and b ) to see him so in love with someone else so quickly .. god damnit chelsey .. why does he have the power to inflict so much pain on people??? ... Does it still hurt you to think about him .. does this get any easier? Please don't tell him my feelings .. I dont want him to know I'm feeling this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------- Original Message -----------------&lt;br /&gt;From: Me&lt;br /&gt;Date: Mar 1, 2005 09:57 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You aren't stupid, I know exactly how you feel. He's done the same thing to me twice. Yeah I saw all those comments too babe.... I was seriously pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey does fall in love really easily. He's just a lost little boy in a candy store. He doesn't know what he wants yet. So he just picks up every piece of candy that looks some what desirable, and when he's sick of it he drops it in the trash like a bad habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just how Casey is. It does get easier though, I've known Casey almost 11 months now, it took me quite a while to get over him though. But, it only took me so long because I was holding on to a string of hope... thinking that maybe he'd come back to me. Don't hold on to that string, because he'll never cut it loose, you have to do that yourself. You just have to know who he is and what he does to help yourself. Casey can be a great friend, but anything more than that is not so good. When I was going through this my friend gave me this piece of advice "You only suffer because you choose to." and I am going to tell you the same thing. Because it helped me out alot.&lt;br /&gt;And don't worry I won't tell him anything.&lt;br /&gt;I hope this helps you Ginny, and all of this will get easier.&lt;br /&gt;Love you 5000!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110972943067077720?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110972943067077720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110972943067077720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/03/original-message-from-ginny-date-mar-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110963311089498793</id><published>2005-02-28T15:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T15:25:10.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugggh</title><content type='html'>I want to punch Casey in his fucking face.&lt;br /&gt;He broke up with his girlfriend three days ago,&lt;br /&gt;and he already has a new girl. SERIOUSLY.&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE FUCK.&lt;br /&gt;He's such a douchebag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He needs to stop what he's doing&lt;br /&gt;and think about what he really wants.&lt;br /&gt;And stop fucking with all these girls emotions.&lt;br /&gt;Because soon no one will want to touch him.&lt;br /&gt;Wait no, he's beautiful and is in a band.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess he's taking advantage of that.&lt;br /&gt;But really, he's being so lame.&lt;br /&gt;And he needs to stop this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so sorry for these girls,&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could help them before it even starts.&lt;br /&gt;But it would piss Casey off, and these girls wouldn't believe me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;They would be just like me, and deny all his faults.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, you aren't a woman until you've had your heart broken by Casey Hill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110963311089498793?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110963311089498793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110963311089498793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/02/ugggh.html' title='Ugggh'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110938070571616047</id><published>2005-02-25T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T01:33:06.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Recovery Meets The Heart...</title><content type='html'>I want this weekend to be so much better, it will be I know it.&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was horrid.&lt;br /&gt;I got blown off by the boy I &lt;em&gt;had &lt;/em&gt;a crush on pretty much two nights in a row.&lt;br /&gt;He didn't talk. Showed no affection. Except on Friday he gave me a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;It pisses me off so bad that he says all these things he wants to do,&lt;br /&gt;and then he won't even talk.&lt;br /&gt;But at least he said bye those two nights&lt;br /&gt;Then on Monday, I would be standing next to him&lt;br /&gt;and he'd just fucking walk off, without saying anything&lt;br /&gt;and come back. Then he just left.&lt;br /&gt;Shy? Bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night I walk into the Jhombi house&lt;br /&gt;and this drunken girl screams OH MY GOD CHELSEYYYY!!&lt;br /&gt;Runs and jumps on me trying to hug me.&lt;br /&gt;It was Ginny, Casey's girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Then I look straight ahead and see Casey's face.&lt;br /&gt;At that moment I KNEW it was not going to be a good night.&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't seen Casey drunk since the very first night I met him.&lt;br /&gt;So we're standing in the kitchen. (Casey, Julie, and I)&lt;br /&gt;And he says to Julie "Hey let me tell you a secret, you can't tell anyone, okay? pinky promise"&lt;br /&gt;So he whispers something to her, I didn't hear.&lt;br /&gt;Then Casey walks away, and Julie was like he said "One day I'm gonna marry Chelsey"&lt;br /&gt;About thirty minutes later he gives me a hug and says "Don't tell my girlfriend, but one day I'm going to marry you." and I just looked at him and I was like "Riiiight."&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes after that I get a text message from Casey:&lt;br /&gt;"i want a kiss"&lt;br /&gt;My reply:&lt;br /&gt;"no."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walks over to me, and says "did you get my text message?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I replied back"&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't get it."&lt;br /&gt;"I said no."&lt;br /&gt;"what?"&lt;br /&gt;"no."&lt;br /&gt;"Why??"&lt;br /&gt;"Because you've already had that." and I smirked.&lt;br /&gt;and he just gave me the most hopeless look I'd ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;I was so upset the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;and took my frustration out on Eric,&lt;br /&gt;by sleeping in his bed and getting down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I get a text from him saying&lt;br /&gt;"hey you sorry about last night"&lt;br /&gt;and I just didn't text him back because I was so upset.&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked me about it at the show, and I told him it was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the show, Jhombi boys got sketchy&lt;br /&gt;and we couldn't stay at their house.&lt;br /&gt;So we went to hang out with Greg at his house&lt;br /&gt;It was kind of an odd night, because the following people were there:&lt;br /&gt;Greg, Julie, Airik, Holly, Travis, Casey, Ginny, Cachelle, Cotton, and some random girls.&lt;br /&gt;It was weird because Cachelle is Casey's other ex-girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Ginny pulled me into the bathroom and was like&lt;br /&gt;"I know you and Casey had your thing, and that's cool, he cares about you. But I don't know how he feels about Cachelle"&lt;br /&gt;and I was like "No, no... don't worry about her"&lt;br /&gt;and she was like "I'm pretty sure Casey is in love with me"&lt;br /&gt;and I assured her he was. But, I kind of wanted to laugh after I said it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All night I told Greg I had a suprise for him (abbey)&lt;br /&gt;because Abbey, Kay, and Jess were suppose to come to the show.&lt;br /&gt;They didn't leave Wichita till 11pm.&lt;br /&gt;They wouldn't answer their phones,&lt;br /&gt;and I was getting soo stressed.&lt;br /&gt;Kay was being a BITCH.&lt;br /&gt;and wouldn't take Abbey to Greg's house&lt;br /&gt;she was trying to make it difficult because Greg denied her.&lt;br /&gt;and they didn't even come that night&lt;br /&gt;I felt so bad letting Greg down,&lt;br /&gt;because he is SUCH a good friend to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 4am or so rolls around, we are stuck in Dallas, and have nowhere to stay.&lt;br /&gt;We couldn't stay with Greg because his parents weren't cool with it.&lt;br /&gt;And I didn't want to make Holly&amp;Airik feel obligated to let us stay with them.&lt;br /&gt;So we drove home at 4:30am-ish.&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Wichita at 7am.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how Julie stayed awake,&lt;br /&gt;because I kept falling asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Scary, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shitty shitty weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Morning we got home was my birthday&lt;br /&gt;I slept till 3:30&lt;br /&gt;Then Abbey came over and apologized for not coming to Greg's and wished me a happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;And Whitney came over too, with an ice cream cone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jesse called and we went to his house&lt;br /&gt;to drink... I had a shot of goldslauger and 1 1/2 bottle of Boone's.&lt;br /&gt;Then Jesse and I cuddled, that was probably the best part of my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;and the rest sucked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110938070571616047?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110938070571616047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110938070571616047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/02/when-recovery-meets-heart.html' title='When Recovery Meets The Heart...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110749895533894252</id><published>2005-02-03T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T22:35:55.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex... Do or a don't?</title><content type='html'>What is the big deal about sex? Really.&lt;br /&gt;Now a days, people just do it because they want it.&lt;br /&gt;People hype up about sex, and how special it is... or should be.&lt;br /&gt;Yet here are all these people having sex with anything/anyone they can find.&lt;br /&gt;They say the first time should be special, but why?&lt;br /&gt;If the first time is so special, then you'll be excepting it to be special every other time as well.&lt;br /&gt;And sex, it's just like this thing, people have... like a dog, or a car.&lt;br /&gt;And who cares what kind of car you have, as long as it runs right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110749895533894252?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110749895533894252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110749895533894252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/02/sex-do-or-dont.html' title='Sex... Do or a don&apos;t?'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110560521713319142</id><published>2005-01-13T01:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T01:19:02.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My oh my.</title><content type='html'>So it seems karma is finally kicking Casey in the ass for doing what he's done to me.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he said he was "writing my g0od-bye letter to my x-gf" I could not help but smirk, and then laugh uncontrolably. Apparently this girlfriend of his decided she was going to start talking to her ex-boyfriend, and planned on breaking up with Casey in March to get back together with her old boyfriend. That seems pretty far fetched to me, so who knows if it's true, I'm sure he's exaggerating, because he tends to do that alot. I mean in all honesty I do feel bad for him because he seemed to really like this girl... or was "in love" with her or whatever. hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, now he's starting to suck up to me once again... Calling me baby, and leaving me Myspace comments. I'm waiting for the phone calls and text messages to start coming in, hah. Oh man, but this time I will NOT be suckered into it, not again because I've done it far too many times.  Sure I'll play along, but I will no longer wait for him to come around and hope to be a couple. I have lost all hope in Casey, all hope in having any sort of intimate relationship with him, because he's fucked me over too many times for me to have any trust like that with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah, how fun, he just IMed me (Right when I finished writing that paragraph):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; what are your feelings for me now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; I love you and care about you as much as always. I just don't have any hope for an intimate relationship anymore..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; :-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UMMMMMM? What the fuck? Is all I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed something about Casey, well with me anyways, in the beginning of a "relationship" he gets so incredibly clingy. I remember him text messaging once when I was out to dinner with Emily and Gretchen saying "What are you doing?" and I said "Eating some dinner with my friends." and he replied with "Come home and talk to me." and I just remember thinking...What the hell? But then after this clinginess stage he has passed, he stops the constant text messages, phone calls, etc... Then eventually stops it all, and I'm dropped like a bad habit for the next girl that finds the slightest bit of interest in him, and is some-what attractive. It's what I like to call the "Casey Fucks Me Over Cycle" Okay, I don't really call it that, but oh well... I've been through this twice now, and it hurts like a bitch, I can't even explain the hurt it's caused. What is so funny is he denied in hurting me at all, I find that quite humorous if I do say so myself. I feel so foolish for ever saying I was in love with him, what can I say I was a naive girl. Now I'm seeing all these girls who are "in love" with Casey as well, funny, right? I just hope they don't make the same mistakes I did by letting him walk all over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110560521713319142?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110560521713319142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110560521713319142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-oh-my.html' title='My oh my.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110508593675655896</id><published>2005-01-07T02:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T00:20:34.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doormat.</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in this shit for a while. I'm quite drugged up on meds for my cold, it sucks because I'm always tired and right now I'm feeling really dizzy. Anyway, Casey situation... He's not mad at me anymore. He up and decided he wasn't going to be mad at me anymore so I'd re-do his xanga journal, and of course... I did it, it looks really good by the way. I'm so good at letting Casey walk all over me, if there was some kind of award for it, I'd have first place prize.&lt;br /&gt;It's odd, all my feelings for Casey are like... numb, I don't know how else to explain it really. I just don't feel anything for him, I love him, and I care about him. But, I don't want to be with him anymore at all. Tonight he called me to check something on Myspace for him. And when the phone rang it was the first time EVER he has called and my heart didn't jump out of my chest, it was just really odd. It pissed me off that whoever he was talking to in the background he was saying that's he's been in love with me forever, since birth he was saying "Chelseyyy!" and in my mind I was saying "Bullshittt!". It's funny, every time Casey dates a new girl he's "in love", and then they break up like a month later because they fight too much, that's usually always the case in his relationships, he can't hold a girl for too long. That's another reason why I don't want to be with him anymore. I'll just be his good friend, maybe with benefits, hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of benefits, I can't wait till February 4th my New Jersey booty call will be here for their show, I'm gonna get me some action, mmmhmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110508593675655896?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110508593675655896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110508593675655896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/01/doormat.html' title='Doormat.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110469300138442674</id><published>2005-01-02T11:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T11:10:01.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Atticus Hill: what was your deal at the show&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: ???&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: why were you acting so different towards me&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: different? how so?&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: you were acting soo not sweet... and a rude drunk.. it was pissing me off..saddlecreekskank: I'm sorry, I wasn't that drunk ... I didn't even get to talk to you that much, I didn't know I was being rude&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: you wouldnt even l0ok at me.. or smile.. and you were sooo fucking drunk...&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: whatever..&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: yea you really care about me.. way to just leave by hopping in the van..&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: no hug or anything g0odbye..&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: i never thought i would ever see you like that.. but whatever.. thats what you are now sooo.. fine.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill signed off at 12:53:30 PM.&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: Alright, listen, I admit I was tipsy, not drunk, because I only had2 smirnoffs. I do apologize if you got the wrong idea, I was not trying to be rude to you. I was just not so happy that you hadn't been talking to me so much at the show. I smiled and waved by to you when I left, I figured you had things to do, thats why I left like that and gave you a hug earlier&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: You know that I would not come two hours just to be rude to you, I came because I wanted to be here front row center for your first show in KK Holiday. And if changing all my plans and working hard to get a ride here for that isn't caring about you and loving you, then I obviously have no idea of the definition of those words.&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: But, I have to depart and make my way back to the Fallz town now. If you want to talk call or text my phone, or I'll be home in like two hours. Byebye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110469300138442674?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110469300138442674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110469300138442674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2005/01/atticus-hill-what-was-your-deal-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110434018191784916</id><published>2004-12-29T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-29T09:09:41.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Kind Of Hung Over...</title><content type='html'>And this weekend I will possibly see Casey, being hung over... seeing Casey, I pretty much get the same feeling either way. This weekend shall be pretty interesting, I didn't tell Casey I was coming, I haven't told anyone, except Njord because I wanted to hang out with him Thursday and have it be a surpise for me to just appear at the show on New Years Eve... I'll be trying to mack on Njord at the show and Casey will be there, mmmm. I'm a bitch, oh well, I deserve to be a little mean every once in a while, I think so anyway. Especially since I've been walked all over for the last nine months, I don't know how I did it either.&lt;br /&gt;That's all I can think of for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110434018191784916?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110434018191784916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110434018191784916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/im-kind-of-hung-over.html' title='I&apos;m Kind Of Hung Over...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110377276712653524</id><published>2004-12-22T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T19:32:47.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow.</title><content type='html'>It snowed today, and all day I have been listening to Relient K - I Hate Christmas Parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hope it snows this week, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;a snowflake on your cheek would make this christmas so beautiful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But that would just bring the pain,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cause things just can't stay the same.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These holidays won't be wonderful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I look under the tree, but there's nothing to see.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cause it's a broken heart that you're giving me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can't figure you out, is this what Christmas is all about?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't wanna talk, I'm sick of all this talking.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A broken heart wrapped up in a box, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;there's tear drops in my stocking.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I look under the tree, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;but there's nothing to see.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause it's a broken heart that you're giving me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey received his birthday gift yesterday, he loved it so much... I talked with him while he opened it, I told him not to open to letter until the next day. He asked "Why?" and I told him because it wasn't the happiest letter, but he said he was going to read it anyhow. The letter reads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Casey-- It honestly makes me sick to think you could do this to me again. After how bad you know it hurt me the first time because I told you. You should have got it right the first time, seriously, if you cared about me as much as you say you do you wouldn't have done it at all. I can't understand this shit, why have you wasted all this time on me if he knew it would go nowhere? Use gas money to come and see me? Why? When you probably knew all along you were playing me for a fool (When you really weren't because I knew of most of the things you've been doing, but I just didn't worry about it. I didn't want to fuck things up between us, I thought you'd come around eventually, but I can see now that it will never happen...ever. You will never change.) I've noticed a pattern in the girls you've dated and I could never be the girl you would want, nor would I even try. But I thought I could make you realize that's not your type, you deserve someone who's real, someone who would honestly love you, someone that could take care of you, and make you look at the world from a new perspective. I wanted to be that for you so bad, I really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm letting you go. You'll never change, and you will never stop lying... But, maybe I shouldn't say never, because I know for a fact people do change. Maybe something life-changing will happen to you and it will make you see things differently, I hope that happens for you. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote you this to tell you how I feel, and to tell you I love you. No matter what I do, or say, I will always love you, I promise you that. Maybe you'll write back, maybe you won't, but that's your choice. Don't try and talk to me on the internet because that is crap. Good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love always,&lt;br /&gt;Chelsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. If you come here on the 29th please don't ignore or avoid me, because that would hurt my feelings. Just give me a big hug, that would be nice.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, and guess who hasn't talked to me since? Exactly. But, who knows maybe he'll write back? I 'doubt it, but you never know I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110377276712653524?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110377276712653524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110377276712653524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/snow.html' title='Snow.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110350560927455483</id><published>2004-12-19T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-19T17:20:09.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone This Holiday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; how have you been this holiday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: hmm, alright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; thats g0od.. so your doing better than me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: why so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; im depressed right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: why??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; b/c its the holiday season..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; im alone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; you know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; the usual emo-kid syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: hmm, well what happened to that new girlfriend of yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; shes just to busy to be with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: well i wish i knew what to tell you but i dont&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i wish you could tell me you love me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; thats my b-day wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; but.. oh well... im getting what i deserves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: I do love you.. i never said i didn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; but you dont want to love me.. anymore..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: not true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: you just make it incredibly hard to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i dont mean to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: well, i will tell you something that my best friend told me, and that is 'the only reason you suffer is because you choose to'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; you are absolutly right.l&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i do ch0ose to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; b/c i have done so much more damage to you.. and i deserve to suffer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; no one &lt;em&gt;deserves&lt;/em&gt; to suffer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110350560927455483?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110350560927455483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110350560927455483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/alone-this-holiday.html' title='Alone This Holiday'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110334272721508211</id><published>2004-12-17T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-17T20:26:30.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Usually Say This, But </title><content type='html'>my mom is really pissing me off, I've been grounded for a week because I was being 'ugly' to her, which I admit is true, but that's not really a reason to ground me, seriously. Catch me doing drugs, sure, ground me forever. Catch me drinking, sure, ground me for months. But I've had a lot of additional emotional stress these past two weeks because of Casey, I'm really sick, plus it's Christmas time, and there is so much shit to do. blah blah blah, bottom line is... I'm stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110334272721508211?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110334272721508211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110334272721508211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-dont-usually-say-this-but.html' title='I Don&apos;t Usually Say This, But '/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110323220556338010</id><published>2004-12-16T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T14:05:27.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays.</title><content type='html'>Last night I was talking to the lovely Robbie on the phone till about 2AM, then my phone died and shut off. I go to put it on the other charger because I have no idea where mine is, but there's another phone on it, so I just set my phone by the charger. Then about 5AM rolls around, I'm in bed and I decide I need my phone. I go to the kitchen and no one put mine on the charger, so I charge it for a moment so it'll turn on...and take the charger. I keep pressing a button on my phone so it'll light up and I can see what the hell I'm doing, then I look at my phone and it says 'CONNECTED CASEY 00:02' so I immediately shut my phone. My heart was beating so fast it took me 20 minutes to calm myself down. I didn't really think so much of it because it was only 2 seconds. But Casey IMs me this afternoon "did you call me last night?"&lt;br /&gt;Then I called Paige to tell her this story as well, and Dan comes in and throws down a package on my desk, and it's the Acceptance hoodie I ordered for Casey. Then Casey is like "hello?????"&lt;br /&gt;So I'm just like "It was an accident. What's your address?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; adress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, your home address&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; wait what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: your address... to your house, where you live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA, then he finally understood and gave it to me.&lt;br /&gt;And he's trying to find out why I want his address, but I'm not talking to him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110323220556338010?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110323220556338010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110323220556338010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110317812630254615</id><published>2004-12-15T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T16:20:13.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Again? Nope.</title><content type='html'>Alright, well, I found out about Casey's "New Girlfriend" Makenzi about two weeks or so ago, from Njord. He thought that's why I was mad at Casey in the first place, and I already knew about it. But that was the first I had heard about it, and it's sad really because I confronted Casey about it less than a week ago and he told me "i wasnt seeing anyone.. b/c i didnt want to see anyone. i was working on making myself realize how to be with you.. b/c i couldnt handle it.." And of course I believed him, because I wanted to so badly even though I think deep down I knew it was a load of bullshit... I love you and bullshit both have 8 letters, coincidence? Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It honestly makes me sick to think he could do this to me again... AGAIN. After how bad he knows it hurt me the first time because I told him, and all he said was "Wow... you never let things go.." and I told him what he did was harsh, and he agreed. But here he is...doing it again. He should have got it right the first fucking time, seriously. I can't understand this shit, why has he wasted all this time on me if he knew it would go nowhere? Use gas money to come and see me? I mean, I know it wasn't about sex or something, because if I even mentioned anything remotely sexual, he would change the subject. So, why waste his time? When he probably knew all along he was playing me for a fool (When he really wasn't because I knew of most of the things he's been doing, but I just didn't worry about it. I didn't want to fuck things up between us, I thought he'd come around eventually, but I can see now that it will never happen...ever. Casey will never change.) I'm not even Casey's type at all, he likes the blonde, skinny, big breasted, fake peronality type of girls. I could never be that for him, nor would I even try. But I thought I could make him realize that's not his type, he needs someone who's real, someone who would honestly love him, someone that could take care of him, and make him look at the world from a new perspective. I wanted to be that for him so bad, I really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm letting him go. He'll never change, and he will never stop lying... But, maybe I shouldn't say never, because I know for a fact people do change. Maybe something life-changing will happen to Casey and it will make him a better person, I hope that happens for him. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be really hard for me because I can't help but think I spent 9 months of time and effort towards a relationship. I have done everything in my power to get Casey to want me, to need me, maybe that's where I went wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have made myself to available to him, maybe I shouldn't have been so fucking nice to him. I have a confession to make-- When I decided to do this homeschool thing, it's partly because in the back of my mind it was me thinking that maybe if Casey and I got together, the homeschool thing would make the distance so much easier... Being able to see him whenever I had the chance, being able to talk all day, and that sort of thing. I don't think I've ever told anyone that before. None the less, I like homeschool so much better than last time I tried it because I have friends now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alot of the time I find myself listening to Senses Fail because Casey hates them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110317812630254615?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110317812630254615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110317812630254615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/again-nope_15.html' title='Again? Nope.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110310583308682837</id><published>2004-12-15T02:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T02:17:42.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>FUCK YOU COMPUTER.&lt;br /&gt;I had this fucking long ass entry I had been writing since 9:30PM and it's now 4:16AM,&lt;br /&gt;and my computer was like... "OOOOH, I'M GONNA RESTART WHILE YOU'RE IN THE RESTROOM HAHAHA LOSER"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110310583308682837?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110310583308682837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110310583308682837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/fuck-you-computer.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110266025093572294</id><published>2004-12-09T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T22:32:09.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My So-Called Life Quotes... This show is like, my life, minus the school thing, and I'm so much like Angela.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this connection with him, though he doesn't see it...it's like&lt;br /&gt;when I turn around, without a reason i can think of, he's passing by&lt;br /&gt;or standing nearby. I can pick him out of a crowd of over one hundred&lt;br /&gt;almost instanly. Sometimes it's almost as if I can feel his precence.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just seems like, you agree to have a certain personality or&lt;br /&gt;something. For no reason. Just to make things easier for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;But when you think about it, I mean, how do you know it's even you?&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If life was like a giant VCR, our lifes would be like videotapes. And&lt;br /&gt;we could fast forward past the really bad stuff and rewind the really&lt;br /&gt;good stuff. Except with my luck, I'd probably lose the remote and get&lt;br /&gt;stuck at, like, cheerleaders day in the cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, at least, by the age of fifteen, I would have a love life.&lt;br /&gt;But, I don't even have like, a life.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the people you've know forever. Who like…know you…in this way.&lt;br /&gt;That other people can't. Because they've seen you change.&lt;br /&gt;They've let you change.&lt;br /&gt;---Rayanne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like you think you're safe or something, 'cause you can just walk&lt;br /&gt;away, anytime, because you don't like, need her. You don't need anyone.&lt;br /&gt;But the thing you didn't realize is, you're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say how you should be yourself, like yourself is this&lt;br /&gt;definite thing, like a toaster or something, like you can know what it&lt;br /&gt;is even,...But every so often I'll have like a moment when just being&lt;br /&gt;myself and my life right where I am is like enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing the things you notice. Like the corner of his collar that&lt;br /&gt;was coming undone, like he was from a poor family and couldn't afford&lt;br /&gt;new shirts. That's all I could see. The whole world was that unraveled&lt;br /&gt;piece of fabric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a lie that you should do what's in your heart. If we all did&lt;br /&gt;what was in our hearts, the world would come to a halt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't know, you don't understand, not for one second. You think&lt;br /&gt;you understand, but you don't. You just analyze everything until it&lt;br /&gt;barely even exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved him so much. And talked about him so much. And thought about&lt;br /&gt;him so much. It was like he lived inside me. Like he had taken&lt;br /&gt;possession of my soul or something. And then one day...I got over him.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever just like completely given up on someone and something&lt;br /&gt;happens and you go Oh my God, there's so much more to this person&lt;br /&gt;than I ever dreamed.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See there's thinking about him-right? Which is what I do all the time.&lt;br /&gt;Like this obsession. It keeps me going or something. I need it just to&lt;br /&gt;get through the day. If you make it real it's not the same. It's not&lt;br /&gt;yours anymore. I don't know maybe I'd rather have&lt;br /&gt;the fantasy then even him.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you like her, would it kill you to admit it? Maybe treat her&lt;br /&gt;halfway decent? Because you know she deserves it&lt;br /&gt;and she's not gonna wait around forever.&lt;br /&gt;---Rayanne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it feels like we're all living in some kind of prison, and&lt;br /&gt;the crime is how much we hate ourselves. And it's good to get dressed&lt;br /&gt;up every once in awhile and admit the truth. That when you look&lt;br /&gt;really closely, people are so strange and so complicated that they're&lt;br /&gt;actually, beautiful. Possibly even me.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe it shouldn't be. So simple. I mean, not that I know what&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking about, or anything, since I've never experienced this or&lt;br /&gt;what have you. But even if I did meet the perfect person, I just&lt;br /&gt;think that it should be like a miracle, like seeing a comet - or just&lt;br /&gt;feeling like you're seeing one. Seeing that other person's&lt;br /&gt;perfectness -or something. And if you "do it" before you're ready,&lt;br /&gt;how are you going to see all that?&lt;br /&gt;---Ricky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little I, like, worshiped Halloween. And truthfully,&lt;br /&gt;part of me still does. Cause it's your one chance all year&lt;br /&gt;to be someone else.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's amazing is when you can feel your life going somewhere,&lt;br /&gt;like your life just figured out how to get good,&lt;br /&gt;like, that second.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, someone says really small, and it just fits into this empty&lt;br /&gt;place in your heart, and you can feel it settling in there,&lt;br /&gt;maybe for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always tempting to lose yourself with someone,&lt;br /&gt;who's maybe lost themselves.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird how something has to happen sometimes&lt;br /&gt;to see how you actually feel about something.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person can still have feelings for someone,&lt;br /&gt;even if they're not like THE person anymore.&lt;br /&gt;---Angela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110266025093572294?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110266025093572294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110266025093572294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/my-so-called-life-quotes-this-show-is.html' title='My So-Called Life Quotes... This show is like, my life, minus the school thing, and I&apos;m so much like Angela.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110262245728433600</id><published>2004-12-09T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T12:04:21.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying?</title><content type='html'>Why is it that EVERY time I try to tell someone how I'm feeling face to face or on the phone I end up in tears, and I can't even finish what I'm saying or make my point because I'm crying. I seriously can't help crying, I don't know how or why I do it... I just do, and it sucks. Like one of those faucets that you put your hand on and water comes out, and you take your hand away the water stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110262245728433600?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110262245728433600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110262245728433600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/crying.html' title='Crying?'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110238580699028638</id><published>2004-12-06T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T22:48:04.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah.</title><content type='html'>It was really horrible seeing Casey this weekend,&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I wanted to see him.&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't think it would happen, so I wasn't worried about it.&lt;br /&gt;But when I saw him walk through the door I almost burst into tears&lt;br /&gt;and wanted to run to him crying telling him I was sorry and I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;But he doesn't deserve that, I do.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I hadn't told him I missed him too.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I hadn't told him I loved him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left me a comment on my journal, "im soo glad i got to see you.. i still need to talk to you though.. love you ~casey "&lt;br /&gt;I left him one back, "Need to talk to me...? You barely even talked to me when I saw you the other night.. Oh well, talk to me then"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; no need for a harsh attitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: I wasn't trying to be harsh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; umm.. alright then..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i just never expected you to act like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Like how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; like you dont care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; It's just easier that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; ouch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Just because I act like it, doesn't mean I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; well actions speak louder than words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, true.. But, why do you even care now.. don't you have a new girlfriend you should be worry about these days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; nope..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i wasnt seeing anyone.. b/c i didnt want to see anyone. i was working on making myself realize how to be with you.. b/c i couldnt handle it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; but whatever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; im sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; I really wish I could say it's okay, but I can't, because you've really hurt me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; no i didn.t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; haha, you really think you haven't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; dont be mean.. i still dont understand what went wrong.. you were the one who decided to stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Stop what exactly? You were the one who said this wasnt a relationship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Anyway, so, what I want to know is, it's been almost 9 months now, what do you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i dont know what i want&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank:&lt;/strong&gt; Well, I just hope that when you figure it out, you'll let me know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No I didn't" that fucking stings, I can't believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was that... what now?&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop talking to him, seriously, but it kills me not too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110238580699028638?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110238580699028638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110238580699028638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/12/blah.html' title='Blah.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110187550283999063</id><published>2004-11-30T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T20:31:42.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Pour My Heart Out And I Get A Sentence</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; i miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: ..i miss you too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; do you not want to talk to me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: It's just so hard..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; what is so hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Talking to you.. just brings pain, because I know it won't take us anywhere, because we will never be anything ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: nothing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: we will be nothing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: we cant be best friends... b/c no matter the outcome of this.. im gonna love you forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: I will always love you too..., but it seems like this love has done nothing for us..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: ouch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: i have learned so much about you.. and learned so much from you.. you introduced me into so many bands that which are now my favs and my inspirations to my band... you supported me like no other with tripleshot and everything....you helped me so much when i needed help..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Yeah... and it seems it will never be enough for you and i to be together..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: wasn't my choice.. it was yours..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: ok no need to be mad. and mean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: I'm not trying to be mean, you know me.. I am not a mean person, I am being honest .. :[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: i know i fucking suck at life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: No you don't... this situation just sucks at life&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill is away at 6:00:06 PM.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill returned at 6:08:44 PM.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill signed on at 7:20:37 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Don't say you won't break my heart, because you already have... breaks more and more every day when I'm reminded we won't ever be together... Things will never change. We can't just be friends, that's just too hard, take a look from my point of view, and you will see the same thing... I can't watch you go from girl to girl anymore, I can't, and I won't. Imagine wanting someone for so long, doing everything you could to make them want you back and see what an amazing person you really are and receiving nothing... But, maybe you know what that's like, I don't know, and if you do, you could understand how I feel so much better. You would understand being that person's friend isn't an option because it would kill you to see them with someone else...and wishing it was you. I really don't know what you want right now, because you won't talk to me. But, I'm going to be in down Friday and Saturday, come see me and we will talk.. because the internet is bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auto response from Atticus Hill: Maybe Light A Candel, Don't Say A Prayer For Me.. Feel Alone.. 'Cause I'm Gone. I Left You Made Christmas Your Own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill returned at 7:38:35 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: well i understand what you are saying..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; but i dont go from girl to girl and all that bullshit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: Yeah, I mean, I've seen you go though like 2 girls right infront of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill&lt;/strong&gt;: ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: I don't know.. I'm drained of words now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110187550283999063?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110187550283999063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110187550283999063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-pour-my-heart-out-and-i-get-sentence.html' title='I Pour My Heart Out And I Get A Sentence'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110177080602696869</id><published>2004-11-29T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T15:26:46.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suck It Bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou&lt;/strong&gt;: you talking to casey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: hahah NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: he talked to me last night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: i was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: WHAT THE FUCK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: i got so pissed i had to walk out of the room and get some water and come back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou&lt;/strong&gt;: did you cool down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou&lt;/strong&gt;: haha oh man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou&lt;/strong&gt;: he just said "i miss chelsey, she doesnt talk to me anymore"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110177080602696869?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110177080602696869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110177080602696869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/suck-it-bitch.html' title='Suck It Bitch'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110177016060833983</id><published>2004-11-29T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T15:24:01.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Wisdom My Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: block him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: no point, cause i'll unblock him all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: you see, i blocked casey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: and occasionally i unblock him because im curious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: but every time, literally every time i unblock him, i wind up feeling a whole lot worse than i did when i had him blocked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: so it's better to stay away entirely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: if he is really worth your time, HE will make the effort to come back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: it's supposed to be a mutual feeling, and if it's not, then don't bother living in a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: and it's not your loss, it's his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: oh that was a good one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: obviously he is not the right person for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: exactly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: and you deserve someone who is more considerate and understanding and cooperative in a relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: because it is clear that you're ready to be mature and make the situation work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: ah ill save my stupid comments to myself for later times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: hhaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank&lt;/strong&gt;: you are full of good wisdom today my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: chelli, the only reason you suffer is because you chose to. so if you want to be happier, then a change is obviously needed and you're the only one who can make the change in your life, so do what you think will help you be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nickLOVEScarter&lt;/strong&gt;: if unblocking him and talking to him all the time makes you happier in some sadisitic, eccentric way, then...sure, go ahead. but in all honesty, i think the only reason you would unblock him and continue to engage in conversation is that little optismitic conscience of yours, telling you that there is a flicker of hope and somehow, in some way, maybe your presence in his life...by chatting to him, like keeping your foot in the door to let him remember you and to keep him apart of your life as vice versa for him, will make him realize that he was stupid. but actually, i think disappearing from his life will make him realize it more so, whether or not he'll admit it and come crawling back is not a guarantee, but for once, not having you to talk to all the time online will hit him and he'll feel an empty spot because you are no longer there. i think you being there all the time makes it easier for him to take you for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110177016060833983?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110177016060833983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110177016060833983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/good-wisdom-my-friend.html' title='Good Wisdom My Friend'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110169878594097724</id><published>2004-11-28T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T19:26:25.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank: and he's told me so many time 'you're my girlfriend'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: the girl he's dating now is a blonde cheerleader...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank: hahah he's dating someone?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: some girl named mckenzie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank: HAHAHAHA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: i went to school with her&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank: sorry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: hahaha i dont like her, say what you want&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank: That literally makes me sick hah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: yeah im sorry :-(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CYBORGFlovesyou: i thought you knew he was dating someone and that was why you were pissed at him&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110169878594097724?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110169878594097724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110169878594097724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/saddlecreekskank-and-hes-told-me-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110167323912342815</id><published>2004-11-28T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T12:25:19.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I &lt;3 Assholes.</title><content type='html'>I think I made the mistake of trying to make peace with him, trying to make things civil, so if we see each other again, it won't be awkward. But no, he wants to ignore me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really, truly hope he's fucking heartbroken. He should be.&lt;br /&gt;But, deep down I know he could erase me from his memory in a minute, maybe less.&lt;br /&gt;I was so fucking good to him, better than any girl he's ever dated, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted things to work. I wanted to change Casey's life, for the better.&lt;br /&gt;And I could have done it, made his life amazing, show him things he's never seen, the world at a new perspective.&lt;br /&gt;But, he was too scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but think I wasted 9 FUCKING MONTHS ON THAT ASSHOLE.&lt;br /&gt;And he was shitty to me at the beginning, I tried so fucking hard to make him want me.&lt;br /&gt;I did everything in my power to get him to talk to me more, call me, or anything.&lt;br /&gt;After about 5 months I finally got him and Travis to come visit me, but I think it was mostly Travis wanting to come visit Krista.&lt;br /&gt;When he was here he was so sweet to me, held my hand, hugging on me and everything, no kisses though. But before they left, I couldn't help but kiss him good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;After that is when I thought it was going somewhere for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;He was so fucking sweet, he told me I was his girlfriend and all this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;When his band was going to be played on the radio he dedicated a fucking song to me.&lt;br /&gt;But then maybe a week later I went to California for like 5 days or something.&lt;br /&gt;And I get on the computer and he has this story going in his journal, and I thought it was about me.&lt;br /&gt;But, is it? NO! It's about his NEW GIRLFRIEND. WHAT THE FUCK.&lt;br /&gt;And it fucking crushed me, and this is after he tells me I'm his girlfriend (But, obviously he was drunk)&lt;br /&gt;So then about a little less than a month passes.&lt;br /&gt;I visit Dallas with the boys for Ampifest, and I do everything I can to get to Casey's show, just to go see him. When I see him, the first thing he tells me is him and Cachelle broke up, he says they fought too much. THENNNNNNN, he finds it completely necessary to tell me about some girl he FUCKED. Yeah, realllll cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some more time passes by, and I'm talking to him on the internet we're making fun of Krista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:30:19 PM): well, you know..that's this week&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:30:27 PM): next week will be different&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:30:31 PM): she'll be in love again&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:32:13 PM): who are you in love with?&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:33:54 PM): haha, no one.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:34:26 PM): :-(&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:35:09 PM): I do LOVE YOU though&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:38:54 PM): i love you with all my heart&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:38:56 PM): but brb&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (11:39:17 PM): kk holidayyy&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill is away at 11:39:48 PM.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill returned at 1:07:02 AM.&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (1:22:28 AM): read my post. and guess who its about.. =-O:-*&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (1:22:42 AM): g0od nite my angel!&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (1:22:50 AM): i love you sooo much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I go read this post by him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wednesday, October 06, 2004&lt;br /&gt;pain....lies....i welcome them.. not trying to sound "dramatic.. i hate that word now.. Drama has become a trend.. DAMN TAKING BACK SUNDAY for MAKING THAT WORD COOL.. im not going to lie. i love drama. but right now its bugging the piss out of me.. its offical ladies and gentlelosers.. i have decided to express my feelings for her..so here i go... she knows everything im thinking and what im feeling.. she knows how to act and how to react.. she listens to me b/c she is my best friend... she has my heart.. and she can do as she pleases... i love her with all of my heart... i would give up anything/everything for her... friendships mean nothing to me... i am hers... i love her with all my heart.mind body and soul.. b/c my heart, mind. body and soul belongs to her.. her smile makes me melt inside.. my knees become weak.. my body shakes with chills on the hottest day of the summer... my heart burns on the most chilling winter night.. nights are night-mare filled b/c shes not in this bed with me tonite.. clearing my mind/heart of negativity and fear.. i could go on forever about her.. and i think i willl.. but not tonite.. b/c i feel she feels the same way about me.... but i will s0on find out.. and when that moment happens.... i will be ready for the rest of his life.. i promise you losers that i am in love.. and it feels so g0od.. she makes my life soo wonderful.. i have known her forever.. and i know her. and she knows me... my life will s0on be completed. i just want my future to start... with HER! b/c her and i both know that when it happens.. its permanent... im in this for the long run.. and with one kiss, we begin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU WITH MORE LOVE THAN GOD COULD EVER GIVE!&lt;br /&gt;love,Casey ( The Lost/Last Romantic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then of course, I freak out and I start balling because I'm so fucking happy.&lt;br /&gt;BUT THEN out of nowhere Tessa (the girl he fucked that he thought it was necessary to tell me about) messages me saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tessa X terror (3:23:19 PM): but, anyway, i'll cut the shit honestly.&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (3:23:42 PM): haha&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:24:06 PM): because, first and foremost at this point i could give a shit less. and you seem like a sweetheart, so&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:25:17 PM): casey told me those entries were about me, honestly. and i think he'd write them so they could be percieved by both of us to be about us. i don't care, he's nothing to me. but that's why i i/med you. because i knew, that he was bullshitting me. and i just don't deal with that. after that post he made, about, being in love and wanting a real relationship? i saw your comment, and was like, cool casey..i thought that was about me? and he's like you're an idiot, it's about you, that's just a dumb fan.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:25:23 PM): and that's why i i/med you.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:25:27 PM): just to see what was up with it.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:25:37 PM): but i'll definitely leave you two be, for sure.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:26:13 PM): and, well, i've lied to him many a times so i can't get pissed off about it frankly, it's just more of a reason for me to tell him to fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (3:26:25 PM): hah, well thanks for letting me know&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (3:26:34 PM): I figured as much, when he made it a private entry haha&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:26:41 PM): yeah, exactly. haha.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:27:57 PM): it just makes me like, what the hell? because i've completely told him, hey dude, i talk to plenty of other boys..i'm even dating a boy right now, you know? and i'm completely honest about it. i've never said or done anything sappy to him, i'm nothing short of my asshole self when we're together. nothing sweet ever takes place. that's why i just find it ridiculous that he'd feed me that shit, when i could care less.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:28:25 PM): and when i read it, i was just like "oh cool", that's how little it meant to me. but at the same time, the fact that someone as petty as casey thinks he's playing me? is just hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:29:11 PM): so, honestly, it could've just been a tactic and he probably really likes you if he's been telling you the same thing, i'm such a bitch to him that i could not see him really meaning that about me. however, you are adorable and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:29:46 PM): and if you like him, then by all means you should definitely go for it. i i/med you to come to terms with myself over what was going on. so if you two have something serious going on, honestly i am not trying to be drama and take that away from you.&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:30:03 PM): i'll let you go, though. you can i/m me anytime if you'd like. (not to talk about casey, but just anything)&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank (3:30:47 PM): haha, thanks for letting me know, i kinda knew, he told me about you last time i was in Dallas&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:31:10 PM): boys are boys&lt;br /&gt;tessa X terror (3:31:12 PM): they suck nards, man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;And the shitty thing about this was I KNEW it was true, but I just let it go, and didn't really worry about it. I didn't want to say anything about it to him because I still wanted him to come see me that weekend, and I didn't want anything to screw it up.&lt;br /&gt;He almost didn't even fucking come because of his friends bailing out on him, but he thought I'd never talk to him again so he did. HAH.&lt;br /&gt;And after he came to see me, the next day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill (12:16:11 AM): i want to be with you soo bad&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (12:16:11 AM): you are my g/f&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says this over and over to me, and even on the damn phone.&lt;br /&gt;Puuuuure bullshit. Because one day he decides to text message me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;him: Baby. Are we going out? Or are we just in love?&lt;br /&gt;me: I don't know, both maybe...why do you ask?&lt;br /&gt;him: Because everyone says I have a hot girlfriend. And I didn't know I had one. Then they say you and I just was not sure of what we are. I thought we weren't because of distance and stuff&lt;br /&gt;me: I dunno. whatever you want&lt;br /&gt;him: I just don't know. If you lived here, I would say yes. Chelsey I love you so much&lt;br /&gt;me: (i didnt say anything)&lt;br /&gt;him: sends me IM 'hey you'&lt;br /&gt;me: (no answer)&lt;br /&gt;him: calls me&lt;br /&gt;me: (no answer)&lt;br /&gt;me: (text message) sorry i didn't answer, i don't feel like talking right now&lt;br /&gt;him: why? whats wrong&lt;br /&gt;me: I'll be honest, you made me sad&lt;br /&gt;him: how?&lt;br /&gt;me: the whole 'together' thing. because you've told me so many times that I was your friend, maybe you were drunk. I don't know, i feel stupid&lt;br /&gt;him: You are my girl. You have me&lt;br /&gt;me: You have said that before... what does it mean??&lt;br /&gt;him: It means I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;HA FUCKING HA. More like &lt;em&gt;'You can sit around loving me but I'll be out fucking little girls telling them I love them and I want them to be my girlfriend'&lt;/em&gt; Say it with me...ASSSSSHOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lsdfksldfsl;sdf GOD, I hate myself for letting him to this to me.&lt;br /&gt;But, I hate him even more for actually DOING this to me.&lt;br /&gt;Every guy I have EVER been with has been a complete asshole,&lt;br /&gt;or was nice, but fucked my emotions. (Except Russell,...I fucked his emotions, with...Casey, God, I suck)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110167323912342815?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110167323912342815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110167323912342815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-3-assholes.html' title='I &lt;3 Assholes.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110167272654801463</id><published>2004-11-28T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-28T12:18:30.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>I wrote this to him on Thanksgiving:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you honestly think I'm that clueless? ...Tonight I ripped the pictures off the wall and put them in a box for the next time I forget you. I realized for almost the past 9 months I've been falling in love with never. I'm so tired of waiting for you to come around, I've been sitting here watching you go from girl to girl, just hoping one day you'd notice me. Then every time you finally do and I think it's going somewhere you drop me like a bad habit for someone else. You aren't mine, you never were, and you never will be. So here's another broken heart for your trophy collection. Keep it, it's yours for the taking, and every time you see it sitting there I hope you remember everything you ever wanted has been lost.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I'm wrong, and if I am, please prove it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His reply was: You are so wrong.. but now that i know how you really feel i guess you are right.. you give up.. nothing I can do now..&lt;br /&gt;Me: There is nothing left for me to do but give up. And you know there IS something you could do, but you're just too scared..&lt;br /&gt;And he said nothing back, and has ignored him ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110167272654801463?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110167272654801463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110167272654801463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110120378677650258</id><published>2004-11-23T01:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T01:56:46.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end...'</title><content type='html'>For the past hour I've been looking at pictures on my computer, of old boyfriends (even found a picture of the first boy I ever kissed), friends, and my family... One's that hit me the most were pictures of my sister and her husband, it's amazing how much in love they are after all they've been though.&lt;br /&gt;And I realize how badly I want that, not marriage, but love. Where I am the &lt;em&gt;only one&lt;/em&gt; in someone's life, to fall in love beautifully and gracefully, not a car crash kind of romance that's headlights are pointed towards heartache. To be that couple, that everyone hates because their so fucking perfect and cute together. Making love with one candle lit to the rhythm of your favorite song. Kissing in public and not caring who is watching. 'Falling asleep holding hands watching one of those hopeless romantic movies' kind of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We all want it... But, who gets it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110120378677650258?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110120378677650258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110120378677650258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/if-love-is-labor-ill-slave-till-end.html' title='&apos;If love is a labor, I&apos;ll slave till the end...&apos;'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110103102762729528</id><published>2004-11-21T01:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T01:57:07.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So shine your bright eyes...</title><content type='html'>Alright well tonight was 'The Big Show'&lt;br /&gt;AtticA boys came into town to play&lt;br /&gt;Jesse came without Robyn, because she was working.&lt;br /&gt;When they played, he sang THAT line to me "So shine your bright eyes, and let em' see straight through me" and winked at me.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. He hasn't done that since... I don't even know, we were 'together' I guess.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes literally were watering, and I almost started fucking crying. My heart started to ache, and it was horrible. Oh man, was it horrible.&lt;br /&gt;And after that I was in need of some affection.&lt;br /&gt;I was suppose to ride home with Emily, but she wanted to leave early.&lt;br /&gt;And then I was going to go home with Whitney, but she had an early curfew..&lt;br /&gt;So, I got a ride with Sean. And we all know Sean wants me (Well, I think so anyways)&lt;br /&gt;He had been reminding me all night long that I owed him a kiss, because I did infact owe him one.&lt;br /&gt;We left the show and headed for Taco Bell with Jacob and Krista (in which I wanted to fucking slit her throat all night long, but was civil towards her)&lt;br /&gt;It was kind of awkward because this girl that has a 'thing' for Sean was there too, haha.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she left. and they finally kicked us out of Taco Bell.&lt;br /&gt;Kasey (The drummer is Sean's band) said he had an extra seat in his car,&lt;br /&gt;so Sean was like "Why don't you ride with Kasey?" "He only has one seat!" "Why don't you guys...share it!?" "OOOOOH! *wink face*"&lt;br /&gt;Hah. Fuckin' boys.&lt;br /&gt;Then we are riding home talking random, listening to Deathcab and The Rocket Summer...&lt;br /&gt;He says something about his neck hurting, so I reach over with my hand and start massaging his neck, then I just trickle my fingers across the hairline on the back of his neck..&lt;br /&gt;He says "*makes noises ahhh oohhh* You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?...Cause it's working."&lt;br /&gt;I say "Me, seduce? No way... I would never... That's such a strong word..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive at my home...&lt;br /&gt;Sean says "So, thanks for coming tonight!"&lt;br /&gt;I say "No problem at all!........So, I owe you don't I?"&lt;br /&gt;And he says "Yeah, you do!"&lt;br /&gt;So I just grab his face and kiss him, and he makes it into a mini make-out session. hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 5 minutes later I get a phone call from Sean, saying I bit his tongue and that's all he wanted to say.. So I just say "You know you liked it" and he says "Yeah,...yeah, I did..."&lt;br /&gt;Then we say bye and hang up.&lt;br /&gt;weiiiiiird.&lt;br /&gt;But, I got the affection I needed, I hope I'm not leading him on with this kiss and my smiles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110103102762729528?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110103102762729528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110103102762729528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-shine-your-bright-eyes.html' title='So shine your bright eyes...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110074149924541144</id><published>2004-11-17T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T13:34:16.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I sent that e-mail</title><content type='html'>Maybe love will find us again, for there is always tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey you, I know you are too busy, and you hope to have time for me, but I can't help but notice things have been changing. I feel like a douche for writing you this in an e-mail, but Lord knows I couldn't do it any other way. I love you so much and care about you alot... more than I do most people. But, I can't do this anymore... I can't be this beck and call girl for you. I must have read the "i want to be with you soo bad, you are my g/f" signals all wrong, because I thought that's what you meant. I know the reason for this can't be distance, I've seen people make it living thousands of miles away from each other, I know how strong you are and I know you could handle it. I know that you work all the time and that you can't make trips here as often as you like, that is why I try and see you at least every two weeks. But, as the great boys of O-Town once sang "I want it all, or nothing at all". It hurts to know that you aren't all of mine, I know it is selfish for me to want such an amazing person all for myself, and I know I don't always get what I want. I waited 7 months for you to finally come around, and it seems another month has just been added... I could wait my entire life for you, but I won't do that to myself. I love you with all that I have, but please don't let me give anymore of myself to you if you don't want it...Tears are streaming down my face as I type this, because this is the hardest thing I've had to write to someone, and you know how hard it is for me to say how I feel...&lt;br /&gt;lovelovelove,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3chelsey&gt;"You could stay and watch me fall and of course I'll ask for help. Just stay with me now. Take my hand, we could take our heads off. Stay in bed, just make love, that's all. Just stay with me now...I'm melting in your eyes"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;didnt know it was over... didnt know that you thought i was pushing you away... didnt know i was showing signs of anything other than being in love... im sorry.. i feel horrible....&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;I didn't say it was over,... I just want more, I've been doing this same thing for 8 months, just being there for you and us not really being anything, it's not fair... And if you can't give me that, then I don't think I can do it anymore... it hurts...&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;you arent just a call girl.. thats bullshit.. you mean everything to me... it is the distance.. i cant stand having someone so far away.. i cant deal with it.. i cant feel the relationship.. it sucks..&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;I want this to work so badly, you know I do. And I'm willing to make it work... But, what is so hard about the distance for you? We've always been far from each other...It's not so hard for me because we talk all the time... and relationships dont have to be all physical, but more metal...that is just how you and I are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so shitty, I don't want to loose him...I feel like I made a huge fucking mistake, but I know it was the right thing, and it needed to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110074149924541144?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110074149924541144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110074149924541144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-sent-that-e-mail.html' title='I sent that e-mail'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110062958311134122</id><published>2004-11-16T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T18:33:48.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Atticus Hill:&lt;/strong&gt; hey you. sorry i havent been talking lately.. ive been busy 5000.. and now im about to be even more busy b/c we are going to finish the album before january 1st.. so i hope to have time for my love.. im sure i will.. i love you 5000 and miss you 5000 more.. so have a g0od day. and know that im thinking of you.. lovelovelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA, what an asshole. Why do I even put up with this? He's been too busy for me? But not too busy to write chapters in his journal, not leave me myspace comments, and not reply to my text messages. hahahahahahaha. "I &lt;strong&gt;hope&lt;/strong&gt; to have time for my love" hahahahahahaha, how sweet right? asshole asshole asshole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too busy for me, fuck that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, apparently I was reading the "I want to be with you soo bad, you are my girlfriend" signals allllll wrong, I'm tempted to write him an e-mail right now telling him I've had it with his shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110062958311134122?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110062958311134122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110062958311134122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/atticus-hill-hey-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110058629314377842</id><published>2004-11-15T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T22:25:36.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>asshole. </title><content type='html'>asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. 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asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. asshole. &lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm done.&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110058629314377842?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110058629314377842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110058629314377842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/asshole.html' title='asshole. '/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110047978090204114</id><published>2004-11-14T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:22:55.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not his girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;but he says "You are my girl. You have me"&lt;br /&gt;double yew tee eff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess it means... "I'm gonna flaunt you around when you come in town and on the internet, but when you aren't here I'm gonna fuck some other girls."&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's not like I have proof or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, that's what I'm guessing anyways.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering what the point of all of this is?&lt;br /&gt;But, I can't say he doesn't care because he is civil with my friends whom hate him, and takes the time to try get along with them, which is something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sick of waiting,&lt;br /&gt;I waited about 7 months to come around to where we are now.&lt;br /&gt;But as the great O-Town once said "I want it all, or nothing at all"&lt;br /&gt;And now it had been almost a week over 8 months, this hasn't gotten us anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110047978090204114?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110047978090204114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110047978090204114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/im-not-his-girlfriend-but-he-says-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110019858786650963</id><published>2004-11-11T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T10:43:07.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So tonight is the night...&lt;br /&gt;When two become one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;(That was for you Robbie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to Dallas tonight for a show&lt;br /&gt;and staying till' Saturday afternoonish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey is taking me to one of his friends' band's show on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;And I want something good to happen.&lt;br /&gt;Something that will tell me...something.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what the hell I'm hoping for, just something.&lt;br /&gt;DOUBLE YEW TEE EFF, Why am I even vague to...myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Hoping for the best, just hoping nothing happens, a thousand clever lines, on unread clever napkins, I will never ask if you don't ever tell me..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110019858786650963?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110019858786650963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110019858786650963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-tonight-is-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110012845470302568</id><published>2004-11-10T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-10T15:25:01.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadness is beautiful, loneliness is tragical...</title><content type='html'>He says he's lonely, well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:250%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Your excuse is you're lonely, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;might as well take a number and get in line. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, just because we're lonely &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;doesn't make it right, but I'll get by."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah, suck it bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110012845470302568?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110012845470302568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110012845470302568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/sadness-is-beautiful-loneliness-is.html' title='Sadness is beautiful, loneliness is tragical...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-110006412479497256</id><published>2004-11-09T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T22:47:53.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night We Met...</title><content type='html'>I remember that night, I was already kind of in a pissy mood (I'm not sure why) and Eric called me to tell me he was waiting outside. So, I tell my mom bye, and walk out the front door. And Russell jumped out of the bushes and scared me. It pissed me off, so I was giving him the "don't fucking touch me" vibes, I wasn't really paying attention to him in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we got back to the apartment, I was kind of excited because there was a show that night. I was still giving Russell the vibes, and we were sitting on the floor together, and I got up and sat on the couch, he got mad and sat on the other chair. So then I asked about going to the show, and everyone said they didn't want to go because they had no money, and I was just like whatever. Russell fell asleep in the chair so I didn't really bother to say goodbye, and Jasmine came to pick me up for the show, we got their kind of late. I believe the second band, Tripleshot, was almost done playing. Jasmine and I were standing in the back, I was just laughing kind of making fun of this band saying "Yeah, we're Tripleshot and we like to pretend we're Fall Out Boy, then later I felt very stupid realizing when I heard them playing they were covering a Fall Out Boy song, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the band was tearing town, that's when I saw him, the most beautiful boy I had ever seen walk into Wichita Falls--I thought I was going to die. My friend and I walked up to Esteban and I was like"WHO IS THAT GORGEOUS BOY THERE?!?!?!"He says "Oh, that's Casey...I'll introduce you."So we walk over to him and Esteban is says "Casey, this is Danielle and Chelsey...Danielle, Chelsey, this is Casey" We say hi to each other, and he says "Hey, it's kind of loud in here, let's go talk outside."So we walk out the back door and stand outside for a good thirty minutes chatting about random things. Exchanged e-mails and phone numbers while he stood behind me and bit my neck, it was fucking glorious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Casey and his friend went back inside to watch their friends' band play. I stood on the same side of the stage as him, I just kept looking at him,and then he looked at me, I smiled and looked away. I moved from where I was standing, and walked past him and pinched his ass, looked at him straight in the face and smiled. And he smiled back. I was also running around the whole night showing all of my good friends how I SAW THE HOTTEST BOY EVER. I did that for most of the time when Jhombi was playing. When they were done and tearing down, Casey and Travis were sitting by their merch table. And I went up to them and started chatting. Then I remember Casey saying "Travis, you know what? A girl has never just come up to us, and starting making out with us...what the hell is up with that?"I just stood there and grinned, thinking "I totally would..." and I walked off mingled and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went back outside with Jasmine and Danielle, and he was standing there.We chatted a bit, and he told us we should go hang out with them, and we agreed to after the show.And then he was like "But, we gotta go, we're gonna go get something to eat" He gave us all a friendly little peck on the lips goodbye. I was just standing there in AWE from what had just happened, we all just reminised about our kisses, I remember Danielle saying "I'm never washin' these lips again baby!"So they left. We stood there anxiously awaiting the next band to play a few songs so we could leave (my friend's band, so I was obligated to stay a little bit)T hey played a few, so we decided to go, I told Russell we were going to my house for a little bit, and go hang out with Tripleshot, he seemed kind of hurt, but I wasn't worried about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to my house like I had said, so I could fix my hair and touch up my make-up a bit. And then we headed for the restaraunt Casey said they would be at, but when we got there we didn't see a van or anything.So I called him up and asked where they were at, and he said Taco Bell, but they weren't their either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when we just decided to go over to Esteban's apartment where they were staying the night since Danielle already knew where it was.But they weren't there yet, so his two BLACK (haha) roommates let us in, and we sat there until they arrived.&lt;br /&gt;Finally they did arrive, carrying lots of beer and food inside.I was sitting on a chair across the room from him, I was just staring at him, and then he looked at meand smiled, and motioned his hand for me to come over to him, so I got up and walked over and sat on the floor infront of himHe told me to come sit by on his lap, but I didn't want to (haha)So I just stayed sitting right infront of him, we just sat there and chatted about music, I asked what his favorite bands were and he mentioned LetterKills, Saosin, Taking Back Sunday. Then he got up to get a beer and came back and sat down.I was still playing with his shoes, and he asked me to untie one we had a race of untying his shoes-- he beat me, but only by a second or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally got out of that chair and sat on the floor with me. Everyone agreed on watching Boondock Saints, so they put that on and turned off the lights. We got pillows and layed on the floor together and cuddled. A few minutes later he asked me if I was going to kiss him, I just smiled and giggled. And he smiled right back.then he told me you were really shy about that kind of stuff, and I said I was too.So finally, he just kissed me. and my heart sank into my stomache...We layed on the floor just kissing for about 20 minutes (which seemed so much longer), and finally stopped because my phone rang.I answered it, and it was my boyfriend I talked for a few minutes and Russell just kept saying "Chelsey, please don't hurt me..please" and I was just like "I won't" (haha, I'm a bitch.) I hung up the phone and he was like..."Who was that?" and I replied "Oh, just um, someone" and then he said "Was that your boy??"and I said "Kindaaaa" then he were like "Now I feel kind of bad..." and I told you not to.And then he said "So, if he's just half your boy...can I be your other half? I want to be all of yours!"Then he took my cellphone and told me to take a picture of myself sometime, and send it to him and he would keep it as the background to his phone foreverAfter that we just layed on the floor again cuddling, and he kept giving me kisses on the cheekand I would just smile back at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayleigh showed up a little later with her friends from Oklahoma City, and she pulled me aside and said "Chelli, don't kiss drunk boys!" and I told her "He kissed me before he was drunk." haha.And sadly a little later my friends were like "We really have to go..."Casey and I just layed there for about 10 more minutes, I was sitting up and he had his head in my lap, and I was running my fingers through his hair.I told him I had to go and he just kept saying "Noooo, baby please don't leave." and "We'll take you home in the morning!"and even tried to get me to drink some of his beer and I told him I didn't drink, and he said "I thought maybe it would keep you here longer with me". But, I couldn't stay, so I sat up and slowly put my shoes back on and got up, so did he...and he walked me outside and gave me a big hug and kiss on the forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked down the stairs, and I kept looking back at him. Jasmine, Danielle, and I walked through the parking lot and got in the car.I, still amazed at what had just happened just thinking "Wow..." all the way to the apartment.We arrived at the apartment, and I layed on the floor with no blanket or anythingit was freezing, and all I could think was "I wish I could have stayed.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-110006412479497256?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110006412479497256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/110006412479497256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/night-we-met.html' title='The Night We Met...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109989783762955748</id><published>2004-11-07T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T16:35:51.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So, I just realized something. This whole this with Jesse could have been so much worse on me, if I hadn't had met Russell that night. I would have obsessed about Jesse forever, been really fucking emo, and would probably LOATHE him.&lt;br /&gt;But instead, I met a cute boy, and got into a new relationship.&lt;br /&gt;It was fun at first... you know he made me giddy for about a week, cute phone calls, journal entries, his band practices, making out like it was going out of style. I think I pretty much took all my sexual frustration I had with Jesse out on him, and that makes me feel really shitty, because I pretty much just used him to get over Jesse and Russell really really liked me, and cared about me alot.&lt;br /&gt;But, then the cute little phone calls started to get annoying, and he got really clingy, and I really hated it, maybe more like I couldn't handle it.&lt;br /&gt;That's when I started giving him the "cold shoulder" not wanting him touching me and what not.&lt;br /&gt;And I cheated on him with CASEY, haha, jeezus, I'm horrible...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109989783762955748?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109989783762955748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109989783762955748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-i-just-realized-something.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109981153120001020</id><published>2004-11-06T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T23:18:21.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Liar, Liar.</title><content type='html'>It's amazing how my amazing day can turn into shit after being hit hard with nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;'Cute Without The E' Acoustic, we used to listen to it in the car all the time, on those late night drives, they were all we ever had to stay close. It will always be one of my favorite songs, for that exact reason.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I can't help but sob when I hear this song. I miss those days.&lt;br /&gt;The long drives, kisses in the carwash, band practices, shows where he would sing to me (no one knew he did, but I knew... "So, shine your bright eyes...") God, I miss that so fucking much.&lt;br /&gt;I think I dwell on this so hard is because he never ended it with me. He never even told me "I just can't do it. It's not you, it's me. Let's just be friends." Nothing of the sort.&lt;br /&gt;I remember after he quit work, he slowwwwwly stopped comming by the house all the time, picking me up and going to run 'errans'... I honestly didn't even see it comming, then I remember one night at band practice I was cuddled under his jacket with his cellphone, and I was looking through his text message (Yeah, I'm nosy, so what) and there is all these cute flirty text messages from some girl. And remember thinking "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??" and I was upset the whole rest of the night and almost started crying right there. And the next day he just showed up with some girl at the park when we were hanging out with friends and he was huggin' and kissing on her.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to cry the whole entire day. Actually, when I rode with Eric and Garrett back to the practice pad, I cried in the car, but they didn't even notice...&lt;br /&gt;And that was the same night I met Russell, and later got into a relationship I obviously wasn't ready for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now every once and a while, I just want to be like... "What the fuck happened between us?"&lt;br /&gt;Even though, I do know. But, I want to hear what he has to say about it.&lt;br /&gt;But, something (more like everything) holds me back from doing so.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that someday I can put this all behind me, and move on with life.&lt;br /&gt;(I mean, I've moved on from him, just not what happened with him.)&lt;br /&gt;He was the first guy that actually treated me like he cared.&lt;br /&gt;I honestly think something great could have happened between us.&lt;br /&gt;He was just too scared... But, life goes on... Eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;attica2rock:&lt;/strong&gt; you never have to worry that i want anyone else though...i mean i am totally all about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;attica2rock:&lt;/strong&gt; i will promise you something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;attica2rock:&lt;/strong&gt; when you are old enough to be here with me...always...i will never let it become soemthing i take for granted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha, FUCK YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109981153120001020?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109981153120001020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109981153120001020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/liar-liar.html' title='Liar, Liar.'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109980773964554195</id><published>2004-11-06T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T22:09:41.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You say "We're only friends." Yeah, real good friends. I bet, I bet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, maybe I'm not?&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared to question,&lt;br /&gt;because I'm afraid he'll get mad.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I &lt;strong&gt;know&lt;/strong&gt; he would be.&lt;br /&gt;But, it's not like we're "Boyfriend, Girlfriend"&lt;br /&gt;So, it shouldn't matter right?&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I love letting people walk all over me. [Insert Sarcasm Here]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109980773964554195?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109980773964554195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109980773964554195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/you-say-were-only-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109980164242050859</id><published>2004-11-06T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T20:27:22.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ima bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I think this is really funny.&lt;br /&gt;I used to be pretty good 'friends' with this girl, and everyone hates her.&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea, seriously. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;I was only friends with her because I was on Best Friend rebound,&lt;br /&gt;and this girl was 'dating' Casey's best friend Travis, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;But, then after spending maybe 2 weeks hanging out with her non-stop&lt;br /&gt;I was fucking SICK of her.&lt;br /&gt;She is fucking annoying as hell, tries to hard, and is just plain stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently after dating Travis (Yeah, he realized how stupid and annoying she was too)&lt;br /&gt;and hanging out with me, she turned 'punk' over night. How hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;And every person (No, seriously, EVERYONE) I know HATES her, but pretends to like her.&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of sad, because I do it too. I guess I'm just too nice to tell her that everyone hates her. hmmm, I wish someone would.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, and she turned super slutty too, which I find funny, because I knew it would happen.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, she made out with 6 people in one night (some girls). fucking gross, haha.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and she thinks it's SOOOO cool to tell me when she FUCKS my ex-boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, real cool, because I have no feelings and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;She also thinks it's cool to tell one of my best friends that her boyfriend tried to kiss her and she rejected him. When really it was her trying to kiss him, and him rejecting her. hahaha, silly ho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109980164242050859?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109980164242050859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109980164242050859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/ima-bitch.html' title='ima bitch'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109967915214295077</id><published>2004-11-05T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T10:30:18.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone Finally Grew Some Balls</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Craig e-mailed Casey saying:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All right man, in all fairness, I apologize. I can't speak on behalf of the rest of the band when I say that, but if that seriously offended you then I'm sorry. Let me explain why my attitude is shitty towards this whole thing; first, I know you said some shit about the way we play and whether it was 'constructive criticism' or not, I don't take well to criticism from ANYONE. A bad trait I know, but regardless, it's how I am. Second, I don't want to see Chelsey get hurt; she's like our sister and we care about her. I know she's mad about this whole thing too, and that sucks, but for what it's worth I'm sorry to both of you. Chelsey wants us to be cool, so I'm willing to go for it. It's totally up to you. If you are sincere and really care about Chelsey and really want us all to be friends, then I'll put everything aside and be cool. Even if not, I'm still sorry about the song name thing and that's the truth. Later man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Casey wrote back:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apology is accepted. i didnt know that you didnt take criticism well. thats my bad.. if thats how you are. then right on.... i understand that chelsey is like a sister and you are watching out for her. but let her make her own decisions and be happy that she is happy... you dont have to be worried with me.. im not going to break her heart.. im not going to hurt her.. im scared shes gonna break my heart.. b/c i honestly am in love with her.. she means everything to me.. shes my best friend, and i cant go a day without talking to her.. you guys just dont understand... and thats fine.. but i never talked shit about the band.. just gave my opinion. sorry it went out of whack.. tommy, kelsey and ryan did talk shit about your band.. though we WERE in tripleshot.. you cannot blame me and travis for their behavior. again we apologize. (they are assholes)..ill put everything aside.. but as for travis.. he is pissed at eric.. b/c eric said the wrong words to travis... and so theres gonna be tension there..... but hopefully they can be mature young adults about this and then there can be positive energy between the bands.. b/c otherwise its gonna suck and we are all gonna go nowhere... so g0od luck man. and thanks for the email..&lt;br /&gt;later&lt;br /&gt;~Casey Alan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109967915214295077?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109967915214295077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109967915214295077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/someone-finally-grew-some-balls.html' title='Someone Finally Grew Some Balls'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109962365357686776</id><published>2004-11-04T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T19:03:21.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>I just realized I have the most amazing mother ever.&lt;br /&gt;She's gives me soooo much trust, which... sadly she really shouldn't :(&lt;br /&gt;I mean seriously, she lets me go out of town (two hours away) for like 5 days, staying with 19-24 year old boys.  Not to mention, I'm only FIFTEEN. I like being treated like an adult, cause I act like one (more than any other 15 year olds I know, and some 19-24 year olds COUGHCOUGH)&lt;br /&gt;Who's mom let's them do that???? Mine. Which is awesome in my case, but kind of... weird.&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if I could go out of town for two days next weekend, and she said yes.&lt;br /&gt;AMAZING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109962365357686776?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109962365357686776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109962365357686776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109955019700397859</id><published>2004-11-03T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T23:07:52.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My hands are so cold, but my face is burning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They were fighting about me...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:52:08 PM): chelsey is more than a friend to us&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:53:11 PM): she is a little sister our number one promoter/fan/she does our website and most of all everyone of us look up to her because of the responsibility she has at 15 cause none of us had that&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:53:23 PM): ok...&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:53:51 PM): and i will say speaking for the band that if you hurt her i do know where you live and we will be there looking for you&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:53:58 PM): not a threat but a promise&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:53:59 PM): HAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:54:06 PM): you laugh&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:54:19 PM): travis says to fucking bring it pussy&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:54:23 PM): bring it now man..&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:54:24 PM): but i am very serious and craig really doesnt like you&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:54:25 PM): let settle this&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:54:35 PM): man..&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:54:49 PM): you dont even realize&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:54:54 PM): tell travis to shut the fuk up&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:55:32 PM): "if you want to be a smart ass we should talk face to face" ~Travis&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15 (11:55:36 PM): im telling you you can have chelsey if you love her but you better not be lying&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:55:43 PM): you have no clue how much i care about chelsey&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:55:52 PM): you really think im gonna be the guy that breaks her heart...&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill (11:56:11 PM): im so scared that shes gonna break myne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I told him:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: aww, that's what he told me... baby, I would never break your heart, and that's a promise because i have been waiting soo long for this..&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: i know&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: what did you think when i said i was scared you were going to break my heart&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: i was suprised..because i know i could never do that&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: i know you wouldnt either&lt;br /&gt;Atticus Hill: b/c i have faith in you&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: i have faith in you too baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And with Eric:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: i tihnk your boys mad&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: nooooo really!&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: well im about to have it out with him&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: good great grand wonderful&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: oh dont worry&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: its all good&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: .....&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: what?&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: what girl?&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: nothin&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: your mad at me and i know it cause derek told me&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: you have been since you came thats why you didnt act like you gave a shit about me when you where here&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: Not mad, just..upset&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: why?&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: you make me feel like shit and stupid for liking casey... "You think that CASEY HILL loves you? hahahah"&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: well im done with that&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: he told me hes scared your going to hurt him&lt;br /&gt;saddlecreekskank: why&lt;br /&gt;ZippoZ15: i dont know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109955019700397859?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109955019700397859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109955019700397859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/my-hands-are-so-cold-but-my-face-is.html' title='My hands are so cold, but my face is burning...'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109953125948471540</id><published>2004-11-03T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T15:45:46.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck this</title><content type='html'>Fuck this drama shit, I'm so much better than all of it.&lt;br /&gt;And I let it get the best of my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my friends and "boyfriend" fighting.&lt;br /&gt;It's pure band bullshit, and they need to get over it.&lt;br /&gt;These are 19-24 year olds, I mean c'mon, can we say IMMATURE&lt;br /&gt;FUCKING GET OVER YOURSELVES SERIOUSLY.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of this fighting, and getting stuck in the middle of it.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make my friends happy, and trying to make Casey happy.&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it all.&lt;br /&gt;AtticA hates Casey and his friends over nothing, talking 'shit' about their bands.&lt;br /&gt;And it's BULLSHIT, because AtticA talks more shit then I've ever heard about Casey's old band.&lt;br /&gt;Casey was so fucking nice to them, and AtticA are assholes to him.&lt;br /&gt;They make me feel stupid for loving him,&lt;br /&gt;Eric said: "You honestly believe CASEY HILL loves you? hahaha"&lt;br /&gt;And it made me feel like shit, I almost started crying right then and there, but I held it back.&lt;br /&gt;I hate Eric for saying those things to me, always ranting how Casey is such an asshole, and he's going to break my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Sure maybe he's an asshole TO YOU, because you're an asshole to him.&lt;br /&gt;Sure maybe he'll break my heart, but let ME handle it.&lt;br /&gt;But, he's good to me and makes me feel good, and that's all that should matter.&lt;br /&gt;Eric suppose to be my "best friend", best friends are suppose to be supportive, am I right?&lt;br /&gt;I think he only says stuff like that to me is because he has supposive "feelings" for me, so he says.&lt;br /&gt;He has feelings for every girl that fucking shows him the slightest bit of attention, and I know it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what the hell he thinks he's doing trying to tell me he has feelings for me (when he doesn't), He's my BEST FRIEND, you just can't do shit like that, that's how friendships get ruined.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know if he's being truthful about these "feelings" either,&lt;br /&gt;I think he only did it because me and Casey were finally comming together,&lt;br /&gt;and he's trying to get me away from him.&lt;br /&gt;He needs to let me make up my own mind, and stop trying to persuade me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why Jesse would name their new song 'It's A Holiday Okay Kay'&lt;br /&gt;Inspite of Casey's band "KK Holiday"&lt;br /&gt;He KNOWS it's going to make Casey upset, and more start drama&lt;br /&gt;THEY KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN.&lt;br /&gt;And yet they do it anyways, fuck them.&lt;br /&gt;Especially Jesse naming that, I don't even know why he would try something like that&lt;br /&gt;After doing what he did to me, trying to fuck up something good for me, I don't even honestly think he knows how bad he hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck him too.&lt;br /&gt;HE'S TWENTY-FOUR, He's too old for this shit. He shouldn't be even be trying to start more drama.&lt;br /&gt;And it better not effect anything between me and Casey, or I'll be fucking pissed.&lt;br /&gt;Casey already asked me why I even hang out with them,&lt;br /&gt;And says I shouldn't even hang out with them&lt;br /&gt;Which he has a right to say because, he's only seen their bad side.&lt;br /&gt;Which sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Because they CAN be amazing guys, when they aren't being so dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;and stupid.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that they are being so childish.&lt;br /&gt;With the exception of Derek,&lt;br /&gt;Derek is wonderful, and I love him so much.&lt;br /&gt;I can talk to him openly, and he won't make me feel so shitty&lt;br /&gt;or tell me I'm wrong, or stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Last time I was in Lewisville we got to have a 40 minute conversation about relationships and such, and it made me feel so good to get things out. I'm so glad I can talk to Derek, and he makes things a little easier for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with an amazing boy, who makes me feel special, and treats me soo good.&lt;br /&gt;And anyone who disagrees can SUCK IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109953125948471540?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109953125948471540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109953125948471540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/fuck-this.html' title='Fuck this'/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8998896.post-109952878771173678</id><published>2004-11-03T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T17:22:17.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>well good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8998896-109952878771173678?l=thebreathingroom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109952878771173678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8998896/posts/default/109952878771173678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebreathingroom.blogspot.com/2004/11/well-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Penny Lane.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809216926305342396</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmgJfCnRvCI/SoD-rlI8fjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gflqT-JecEI/S220/FB_thumb.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
