<?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-2841000196309291262</id><updated>2011-09-17T09:54:20.778-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Elements of Another Person</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>109</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7803825919622353707</id><published>2011-04-07T22:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T22:12:14.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Medicine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Missing someone is like this terrible drug which you are forced to  swallow and yet it never makes you feel any better.  Instead you have  this lump in the back of your throat from when the pill went down the  wrong pipe.  Its also interesting how missing someone can change over  time, just like taking medicine.  Sometimes you take the drug and the  pain leaves with a bit of time.  In other instances, even the strongest  of medicines will never cure you of the pain residing within.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7803825919622353707?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7803825919622353707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2011/04/missing-medicine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7803825919622353707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7803825919622353707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2011/04/missing-medicine.html' title='Missing Medicine'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1407046479422500247</id><published>2010-12-21T02:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T02:31:20.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I can't believe 2010 is coming to a close.  Its Christmas in three days.  I'm not in the Christmas spirit.  I'm not even meaning to be Grinchy, I just feel more consumed by the though of the new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year seemed to go by so quickly and so slowly at the same time.  I turned twenty.  I know everyone thinks its not that big of a deal but it meant something big to me.  I think turning twenty helped me to realize what I really want in life.  I really want to be happy.  In all honesty I have known that for a long time.  I just think that turning twenty reinforced that even more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transitioning into adulthood (even though I still live at home where my mom takes care of me) has helped me realize that being happy with myself and my decisions is what really matters in life.  I don't mean to be selfish but I have realized that for anyone else to be happy around me or for things to be positive in my life I need to find contentment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a job that I like going to.  I want to surround myself with people who make me happy and whom I make happy in return.  I want to engage in positive activities and love people for who they are and not for who I wish they could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to take time to work on these things because I know they take time.  I'm just looking forward to ringing in 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1407046479422500247?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1407046479422500247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/12/goodbye-2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1407046479422500247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1407046479422500247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/12/goodbye-2010.html' title='Goodbye 2010'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5015587496742233882</id><published>2010-11-09T15:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T15:39:23.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I've been spending time in places where I always used to run into you.  I'm feeling kind of lonely lately.  Its weird too, because I have all of these great people around.  Maybe I'm feeling alone because I'm reminiscing about the past.   All of these surroundings are reminding me of the fun we had together and the days I knew I would run into you.  I miss your smile and the way you would laugh at my jokes.  I miss the fact that you were always right where I knew you would be.  The worst thing about it all is that I miss the way you used to be.  You're such a different person to me now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I can't say I would like things to be the same.  I also can't say I would like them to go back to the way they were.  Its just not all that fun looking back on something and remembering how great it was; especially when you know things can and never will be the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5015587496742233882?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5015587496742233882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/11/change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5015587496742233882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5015587496742233882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/11/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8016831977221068601</id><published>2010-10-31T11:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T11:44:57.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagination</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Don't let the imaginary person in your head keep you from loving the person right in front of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TM2OybALqkI/AAAAAAAAAas/pivlizadcGk/s1600/1237757945646068.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TM2OybALqkI/AAAAAAAAAas/pivlizadcGk/s320/1237757945646068.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534236514001332802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its time I throw all of my misconceptions out the window and embrace the truth.   I'm just afraid of breaking something that doesn't need to be fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&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/2841000196309291262-8016831977221068601?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8016831977221068601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/10/imagination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8016831977221068601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8016831977221068601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/10/imagination.html' title='Imagination'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TM2OybALqkI/AAAAAAAAAas/pivlizadcGk/s72-c/1237757945646068.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3603290091389424548</id><published>2010-10-25T00:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T00:40:25.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sign</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I think I'm beginning to realize that even if things don't go the way  I hope they will everything is going to be okay anyway.  As much as I  would like for things to change between us I am also quite content with  the way they are now.  I'm not too sure why.  If I want things to  change, one would think I would be unhappy in this current state, but  that's not the case whatsoever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I constantly find myself thinking  of our future but I'm so wrapped up in the present.  Maybe one of the  best things about this situation is that the more you're the around, the better things seem to be.  I'm so fearful of pushing you away.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I feel like such a hypocrite, you see.  I'm always the girl who tells people to go after what they want.  Its so hard to take your own advice.  I'm not saying I'm never going to take the chance, I just need to be ready to take the chance.  I hope I capitalize on it before it passes me by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I guess the best thing is this is a win win situation, because I know I will never lose you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Please just give me some kind of a sign.  &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/2841000196309291262-3603290091389424548?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3603290091389424548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/10/sign.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3603290091389424548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3603290091389424548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/10/sign.html' title='Sign'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1127999211754168995</id><published>2010-09-17T14:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T14:45:53.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spark</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;There is something about this time of year that makes me so anxious.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  There you stood.  And I could not help but to be fascinated by you.  Eventually this fascination lead to a spark.  The spark was triggered in my mind, my heart and my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;At this moment in time the spark is out.  Its a tad disappointing but its also the way its meant to be.  I think the thing that I have the most difficulty grasping is why I sometimes miss you after everything I have faced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1127999211754168995?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1127999211754168995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/09/spark.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1127999211754168995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1127999211754168995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/09/spark.html' title='Spark'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4645170397583906554</id><published>2010-08-31T20:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T20:59:57.037-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought Proces</title><content type='html'>I'm wondering if all of this thinking is ever going to do me any good.  Interesting how I am so consumed by ideas that I am thinking about thinking.  I need to give myself a break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too much has been going on with me lately.  One of my best friends returned from working with a community of children in Africa recently.  When he came home I felt missed, as well as insignificant for focusing on work this summer.  I am proud that someone I call my friend was involved in something so important such as the selfless act of caring for children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been contemplating my feelings towards another important person in my life.  Its always a wake-up call when the way you think or feel about someone significantly changes. This is not to say my thoughts about this person have changed for the worse, or for the better; however, I am curious to see how my mind chooses to navigate this new mess in which I have entangled my mind into.  In this case my mind is like a spider web, a place to capture my thoughts and hold them hostage within my mind. Let's just say this person is very important to me and I need to think about how I want our relationship to evolve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My most sincere hope is that all of this thinking will bring some good.  After all, what it life without the divine chaos that is a marvelous though process?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4645170397583906554?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4645170397583906554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/08/thought-proces.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4645170397583906554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4645170397583906554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/08/thought-proces.html' title='Thought Proces'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1386878539670785984</id><published>2010-08-08T17:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T17:54:05.714-04:00</updated><title type='text'>People</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In a way it makes me a little sad reading these posts and feeling a lack of inspiration as of late.  I'm constantly pondering life's processes but sometimes words are unable to express the whirl wind of the mind.  Not too much has happen in the last few months, but at the same time I have had some experiences which are worth reminiscing upon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;People have bee coming and going from my life recently.  A close friend of mine is in Africa at the moment.  The other day he sent me an email explaining that where he is one in four people have AIDS.  I'm not sure whether or not I should be shocked by this statistic or not but I am.  Its tough to believe that for the last few months I have been complaining that I need to get out of bed every week day at 5am to go to work, when individuals in another society are worried about survival.  Its hard to imagine what they are going through.  Its also hard to imagine what its like for my friend to be there, and not have as much power as I'm sure he wishes he could posses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Alternatively, another individual entered my life once again. He; however, is gone once again and I have been thinking a bit about that too.  I think its the best that this person is gone but its never easy saying goodbye to someone who doesn't want to let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Of course, there are also some people who I have not seen for long periods of time, which has left me to analyze the meaning of our relationships.  Sometimes after not seeing someone, you build up a concept of how you remember them to be.   Most of these thoughts remain to be positive.  I'm just hoping I'm not setting myself up for a let down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/2841000196309291262-1386878539670785984?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1386878539670785984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/08/people.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1386878539670785984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1386878539670785984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/08/people.html' title='People'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-31355750130473357</id><published>2010-06-09T20:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T20:17:32.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory Lane</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane.  I drove by this place that once meant something.   Perhaps this is the wrong phrase- it still means something; however, the meaning of this place in time has changed for me.  I remember this place fondly.  Something so simple and quaint occurred.  The moment, the place, was dedicated to an event which resides in my memory.  Its serenity rang a bell in my heart.  And then the feeling hit me.  I began to miss the simplicity of how things were in the beginning.  Our thoughts were based around the future, but never in a stressful way.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I can't say I want to go back to that place or return to the moment.  But being reminded of it freed me in some way.  It made me remember how things were good for a while.  Its not even that things are terrible now, they're just different that's all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I hope that soon again I will be encapsulated by the simplicity and the beauty of a moment that will take a different place in my memory bank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-31355750130473357?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/31355750130473357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/06/memory-lane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/31355750130473357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/31355750130473357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/06/memory-lane.html' title='Memory Lane'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5713969900320469712</id><published>2010-06-02T21:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T21:20:54.702-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Always</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The possibility seems so far out of reach.  And yet, for one reason or another, I can't see myself letting go.  Its this indescribable gut feeling.  Whenever you come around there is a sense of calm and I know that anything that happens between us will never ruin what we have.  I miss you, its been too long. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5713969900320469712?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5713969900320469712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/06/always.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5713969900320469712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5713969900320469712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/06/always.html' title='Always'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4311759164841133138</id><published>2010-05-30T10:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T10:09:13.521-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Notion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A person who I just met the other day opened my mind to some possibilities.  In today's society it is difficult to believe in love.  In one way or another love seems like a giant notion.  It could be because the divorce rate is growing annually or because the media has molded love to be so trivial.  After having this day long discussion with this somewhat stranger, my eyes were opened to the possibilities of love.  I'm not sure if I will ever find love or if this stranger will find what he once had; however, there is no sense on hoping love is more then a notion after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TAJxbe1JcLI/AAAAAAAAAac/OaTzhDvWS2k/s1600/1247111098574528.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TAJxbe1JcLI/AAAAAAAAAac/OaTzhDvWS2k/s320/1247111098574528.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477064813782331570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4311759164841133138?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4311759164841133138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/notion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4311759164841133138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4311759164841133138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/notion.html' title='Notion'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/TAJxbe1JcLI/AAAAAAAAAac/OaTzhDvWS2k/s72-c/1247111098574528.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-331705077050706403</id><published>2010-05-22T21:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T21:59:39.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I've been thinking about how in a few short months I will be turning twenty.  Time seems to have passed so quickly.  It seems like yesterday I had the bad hair cut and my best friend was the boy next door. Its good to think that my hair has since grown longer and sad to think my once best friend now seems like a distant stranger.  I miss my childhood.  I miss the days of going swimming at my grandma's pool and playing at recess and making chocolate chip pancakes with my mom.  I miss the dogs I had when I was young and the freedom and the sense of innocence that almost every child has.  On the other hand, I am looking ahead to the future.  I'm excited to see what will come to me in my life and what I make of my opportunities.  I want to find out what makes me happy and who will always be there for me when I need them most. Its scary to think these things are approaching so soon.  I think the most important thing of all is that I am doing my best to live in the present and I am happy with the decisions I have made in my life.  Looking forward to more good things to come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-331705077050706403?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/331705077050706403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/growing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/331705077050706403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/331705077050706403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/growing.html' title='Growing'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-961359957890181043</id><published>2010-05-01T11:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T18:19:30.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S9xTlZrJu_I/AAAAAAAAAaU/OyADHFT_ZOk/s1600/1266261345568499.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S9xTlZrJu_I/AAAAAAAAAaU/OyADHFT_ZOk/s320/1266261345568499.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466335949733084146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Two plane tickets home and I could not be more content.  The simplicity that other people can bring to you is incredible.  Friends have the best way of reminding you why you love them and why you need them.  I have some of the best friends.  And even though they are gone for most of the year, when they're back its like things never changed.  In my mind that's the best kind of friend one can have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-961359957890181043?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/961359957890181043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/961359957890181043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/961359957890181043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/05/friend.html' title='Friend'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S9xTlZrJu_I/AAAAAAAAAaU/OyADHFT_ZOk/s72-c/1266261345568499.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5158805009883860246</id><published>2010-04-18T22:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T22:41:33.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Worn Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8vCzmMVqOI/AAAAAAAAAaM/CejhwyR7Kkk/s1600/175571380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8vCzmMVqOI/AAAAAAAAAaM/CejhwyR7Kkk/s320/175571380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673164798273762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its the time of year, or the fact that the weather isn't as nice as I would like it to be.  It could be that you're so far away and as soon as you come back, you'll turn around and leave again. Maybe its because I'm being bombarded by people who have not once required my attention until this very moment.  All I have to say is this time of year is starting to wear me down.  I can't wait for you to be here again and for the sun to be shining until late in the evening and lots of summer ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5158805009883860246?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5158805009883860246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/04/worn-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5158805009883860246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5158805009883860246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/04/worn-out.html' title='Worn Out'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8vCzmMVqOI/AAAAAAAAAaM/CejhwyR7Kkk/s72-c/175571380.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7091587471744523265</id><published>2010-04-12T18:41:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T19:08:25.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Still</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I heard a song that reminded me of you today.  And not in the way which I have been remembering you lately, but in a way that made me think of everything good we had.  That's not to say I wasn't remembering you fondly; however, I have reasons to be distracted from certain positive thoughts. Some days I miss you more then others.  And I don't know if I actually miss you or If I miss what we had, as the lines are easily blurred between the two.  It seems like you're happy now, and I guess that's all that matters.  I hope that someday I can be in the same place as you.  I also hope you can forgive me for any misfortunes I have caused you, and that you, too, can think of some of the misfortunes have you caused me.  I hope we can let them go.  And even if I don't learn from these positive times and these misfortunes, I can listen to this song and think of you fondly and all that we used to have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8Oh0Gb7E5I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ljUJ6QsBCXE/s1600/b7bb36_editia-2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8Oh0Gb7E5I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ljUJ6QsBCXE/s320/b7bb36_editia-2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459385089756173202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7091587471744523265?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7091587471744523265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/04/still.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7091587471744523265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7091587471744523265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/04/still.html' title='Still'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S8Oh0Gb7E5I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ljUJ6QsBCXE/s72-c/b7bb36_editia-2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5128185185018088172</id><published>2010-03-31T00:20:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T00:33:16.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking the Line</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The last thing I want is to give you the wrong impression.  Unfortunately I feel that's exactly what I'm doing. All of these thin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;gs you have said to me have got me thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I'm not sure how to react and I'm n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ot sure how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; to not mislead you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S7LQWzjTEGI/AAAAAAAAAZU/UQr6Jvf53iM/s1600/1269908074520141.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S7LQWzjTEGI/AAAAAAAAAZU/UQr6Jvf53iM/s320/1269908074520141.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454651188913049698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Right now I need to focus on walking the line and that balancing act between comfort and reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5128185185018088172?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5128185185018088172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/walking-line.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5128185185018088172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5128185185018088172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/walking-line.html' title='Walking the Line'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S7LQWzjTEGI/AAAAAAAAAZU/UQr6Jvf53iM/s72-c/1269908074520141.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6412246119188128595</id><published>2010-03-25T20:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T20:45:40.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've been having this recurring dream.  Well, I've only had it twice.  The event is always the same. But the time and place and other people are always different.  The other key person's reaction and actions keep changing too.  Its starting to get to me and I'm not too sure what to make of it- especially if the scenario keeps changing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6wDelyOe1I/AAAAAAAAAY0/P6rMw0auAU8/s1600/126774034726250.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6wDelyOe1I/AAAAAAAAAY0/P6rMw0auAU8/s320/126774034726250.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452737072912563026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6412246119188128595?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6412246119188128595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6412246119188128595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6412246119188128595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6wDelyOe1I/AAAAAAAAAY0/P6rMw0auAU8/s72-c/126774034726250.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8177372157866459321</id><published>2010-03-23T20:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T23:06:14.538-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I recently started another blog.  I'm hoping to transfer some posts from this blog to the new one and possibly be blogging on both.  The new blog is&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shortworks.tumblr.com"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-family: verdana;"&gt;http://shortworks.tumblr.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I hope you will check it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8177372157866459321?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8177372157866459321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8177372157866459321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8177372157866459321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8365166042582087894</id><published>2010-03-21T22:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T22:38:13.745-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Bee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;I've been so busy lately and I feel like its been too long since I could just wake up in the morning and not have to think about going to school or work or meeting this person at this time or paying this much money for this item.  I know that I'm an "adult" but all I want is a little "me time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6bVv5nCcMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/O8i2_rfxHYQ/s1600-h/tumblr_kuncmySfL21qza6kro1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6bVv5nCcMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/O8i2_rfxHYQ/s320/tumblr_kuncmySfL21qza6kro1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451279417873690818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Really all I want is to wake up in the morning and not have to think about what I'm going to do.  I want to wake up and be able to fall back asleep if I'm still tired and eat a nice breakfast maybe while watching cartoons.  I want to listen to loud music in my house and not have to worry about getting places on time and finishing all my homework.  I want to hang out with my dog and bake a cake and catch up with friends.  And I definitely need to exercise.  School's almost over, hopefully I can do all of this then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8365166042582087894?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8365166042582087894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/busy-bee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8365166042582087894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8365166042582087894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/busy-bee.html' title='Busy Bee'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6bVv5nCcMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/O8i2_rfxHYQ/s72-c/tumblr_kuncmySfL21qza6kro1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5024309691141103917</id><published>2010-03-21T12:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T12:54:26.362-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Outside the Box</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-colour boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-colour boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-colour box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-colour boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colours of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;eet someone who's an 8-colour type.. I'm like, "hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "no - I want magenta!"  - John Mayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 style="margin: 0pt; font-size: 12px; font-family: verdana; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6ZPDxL7vII/AAAAAAAAAYk/NoMtxBvvkfU/s1600-h/350518376.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6ZPDxL7vII/AAAAAAAAAYk/NoMtxBvvkfU/s320/350518376.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451131325140155522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5024309691141103917?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5024309691141103917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/outside-box.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5024309691141103917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5024309691141103917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/outside-box.html' title='Outside the Box'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6ZPDxL7vII/AAAAAAAAAYk/NoMtxBvvkfU/s72-c/350518376.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7484595929062684018</id><published>2010-03-17T20:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T21:28:55.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wave</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Its interesting how something can suddenly appear to be so obvious.  Its almost making me sick, the thought that something could work out the way I'm hoping it will. Its funny because a while ago I never would have even thought about this situation and now the idea that it could turn around negatively makes me feel completely lost.  I don't know how I would feel but I don't think I would feel good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6F2N1M01mI/AAAAAAAAAYU/WE7jrgI33yA/s1600-h/1245659420661624.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6F2N1M01mI/AAAAAAAAAYU/WE7jrgI33yA/s320/1245659420661624.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449767004086261346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It just feels so real- like this huge wave crashing over my mind and my heart, leaving me soaking wet. And instead of just drying off, I keep being hit by the wave and being reminded of this feeling. Its not even a bad thing.  Its just overwhelming not knowing if I'm going to get off the beach onto dry land or if the wave is going carry me out into the ocean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7484595929062684018?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7484595929062684018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/wave.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7484595929062684018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7484595929062684018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/wave.html' title='Wave'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6F2N1M01mI/AAAAAAAAAYU/WE7jrgI33yA/s72-c/1245659420661624.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2108548328700024983</id><published>2010-03-16T19:05:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T19:28:09.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;All signs point to the truth but I'm still afraid. I think I'm in denial because the last thing I want is for this to be blown out of proportion. I guess all I can say is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;say whatever your heart tells you, and please, say it out loud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6AS_jFLeuI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wkZmg0p-gxk/s1600-h/1267649714328515.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6AS_jFLeuI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wkZmg0p-gxk/s320/1267649714328515.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449376432076323554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Regardless of anything, you're honestly the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2108548328700024983?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2108548328700024983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/honest-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2108548328700024983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2108548328700024983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/honest-heart.html' title='Honest Heart'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S6AS_jFLeuI/AAAAAAAAAYM/wkZmg0p-gxk/s72-c/1267649714328515.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3502215858625727691</id><published>2010-03-15T21:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T21:30:10.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Step Ouside and Say Hello to My Beautiful World</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I love the feeling after a good workout, the cool breeze on a warm summer day.  I love seeing people I haven't seen in a long time.  I love coming home after my mom has baked me my favourite kind of cookies.  I love  seeing the honesty in your eyes.  And even though some days go by more quickly then we hoped, at least we had the opportunity to experience a new day. Every day we wake up is a chance for us to live the new day differently then the previous.  Everyday is a chance for us to get where we hope to be.  Everyday is an opportunity for us to listen to our favourite music, go for walks in the sunshine, and find joy in the simple things.  And everyday is a day to love someone even more then you did the day before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S57gPshPgKI/AAAAAAAAAX8/fh5fr9_g700/s1600-h/1246763588330184.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S57gPshPgKI/AAAAAAAAAX8/fh5fr9_g700/s320/1246763588330184.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449039159418126498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes things don't go they way we hoped.  But that's life.  Its this crazy, spectacular journey which brings out our imperfections, our beauty and our loveliness.  Be the best person you can be, it's all going to work out somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3502215858625727691?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3502215858625727691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/step-ouside-and-say-hello-to-my.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3502215858625727691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3502215858625727691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/step-ouside-and-say-hello-to-my.html' title='Step Ouside and Say Hello to My Beautiful World'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S57gPshPgKI/AAAAAAAAAX8/fh5fr9_g700/s72-c/1246763588330184.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3169331008062014617</id><published>2010-03-12T22:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T22:45:25.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sink and Float</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I jumped to a conclusion after what you told me.  Maybe my stomach sunk because I thought a possibility had faded.  I think I'm afraid that it wasn't a possibility fading but that I was having an epiphany I was not ready to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5sJ6By_qkI/AAAAAAAAAX0/63hBPZiuEq0/s1600-h/1243273983316412.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5sJ6By_qkI/AAAAAAAAAX0/63hBPZiuEq0/s320/1243273983316412.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447959066754132546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The thing is, I've let go of the epiphany.  I may be in denial.  I think I'm kind of afraid.  Maybe denial and fear go hand in hand. I hope that this fear and denial will soon float away, reveal the truth and bring me the simplicity of joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3169331008062014617?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3169331008062014617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/sink-and-float.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3169331008062014617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3169331008062014617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/sink-and-float.html' title='Sink and Float'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5sJ6By_qkI/AAAAAAAAAX0/63hBPZiuEq0/s72-c/1243273983316412.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8608967991321110780</id><published>2010-03-09T17:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T17:57:36.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Often</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Today I did something so small for someone and they made it seem like it was the best.  And maybe it was, but all I wanted was for them to be happy.  Apparently it worked. I need to start doing nice things for people more often, its surprisingly fulfilling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5bRpxHh3JI/AAAAAAAAAXc/UXSUBYf2wU4/s1600-h/4238115175_58c078f512.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5bRpxHh3JI/AAAAAAAAAXc/UXSUBYf2wU4/s320/4238115175_58c078f512.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446771314840951954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn life around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;- Leo Buscaglia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8608967991321110780?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8608967991321110780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/too-often.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8608967991321110780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8608967991321110780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/too-often.html' title='Too Often'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5bRpxHh3JI/AAAAAAAAAXc/UXSUBYf2wU4/s72-c/4238115175_58c078f512.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2434868065000578765</id><published>2010-03-08T23:54:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T00:13:12.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sparks of Suspicion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;People always seem to be so suspicious.  They have the right to be.  They should be.  On the other hand, its always aggravating when people become suspicious over something so innocent and simple.  Just when you think something is harmless people have the ability to turn it into something you never saw it to be.  Of course, that always gets you thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5XXOyMAB7I/AAAAAAAAAXM/6VR5PJlvfLY/s1600-h/124677234229937.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5XXOyMAB7I/AAAAAAAAAXM/6VR5PJlvfLY/s320/124677234229937.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446495973364729778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Maybe this will spark something new and fulfill these suspicions but I still have my doubts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2434868065000578765?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2434868065000578765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/sparks-of-suspicion.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2434868065000578765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2434868065000578765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/sparks-of-suspicion.html' title='Sparks of Suspicion'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5XXOyMAB7I/AAAAAAAAAXM/6VR5PJlvfLY/s72-c/124677234229937.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6660429837030480123</id><published>2010-03-05T15:01:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T21:15:01.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Live</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Right now I feel like I'm in this place in my life where all I can be is who I am, whoever that is. Sometimes I'm lost, emotional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, irrational, and irritated.  But I've been trying to be joyful, reasonable, an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;d selfless.  This is not to say its easy, but I'm trying to understand that you are your state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One of my favourite movies is The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  Below is a message from the movie; I think I need to remind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;yself of this message more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FmLYGlXuI/AAAAAAAAAW0/OJo7xrF6sjo/s1600-h/benjaminbuttonpic5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FmLYGlXuI/AAAAAAAAAW0/OJo7xrF6sjo/s200/benjaminbuttonpic5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445245770102300386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FmaK1R-qI/AAAAAAAAAW8/WoBmTWLBWWk/s1600-h/curious_case_of_benjamin_button_xl_02-film-b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FmaK1R-qI/AAAAAAAAAW8/WoBmTWLBWWk/s200/curious_case_of_benjamin_button_xl_02-film-b1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445246024238103202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FlwnLCmrI/AAAAAAAAAWs/qOYVFhq-iHs/s1600-h/2008_the_curious_case_of_benjamin_button_0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FlwnLCmrI/AAAAAAAAAWs/qOYVFhq-iHs/s200/2008_the_curious_case_of_benjamin_button_0011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445245310291057330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6660429837030480123?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6660429837030480123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/live.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6660429837030480123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6660429837030480123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/live.html' title='Live'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5FmLYGlXuI/AAAAAAAAAW0/OJo7xrF6sjo/s72-c/benjaminbuttonpic5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-743840082494856156</id><published>2010-03-04T22:30:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T22:54:37.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paranoid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I feel like you read my mind.  Or maybe I'm just not being subtle enough.  Honestly, I feel like I have nothing to be subtle about.  And now, I'm going to become paranoid about something I have no reason to be paranoid about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5B-WftJd7I/AAAAAAAAAWk/7k9xscFJv78/s1600-h/1257112766613605.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5B-WftJd7I/AAAAAAAAAWk/7k9xscFJv78/s320/1257112766613605.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444990874424014770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Baby, don't worry about it,&lt;br /&gt;Lady don't even think about it,&lt;br /&gt;You worry about the wrong things, the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-743840082494856156?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/743840082494856156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/paranoid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/743840082494856156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/743840082494856156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/paranoid.html' title='Paranoid'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S5B-WftJd7I/AAAAAAAAAWk/7k9xscFJv78/s72-c/1257112766613605.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-262261013236633002</id><published>2010-03-04T00:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T00:28:13.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Marevlous Truths</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S49DzOsg20I/AAAAAAAAAWM/frAx9uyrefI/s1600-h/126730990130002.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S49DzOsg20I/AAAAAAAAAWM/frAx9uyrefI/s320/126730990130002.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444645021911407426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're honestly the coolest.  Thanks for your marvelous truths. You made my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-262261013236633002?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/262261013236633002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/marevlous-truths.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/262261013236633002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/262261013236633002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/03/marevlous-truths.html' title='Marevlous Truths'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S49DzOsg20I/AAAAAAAAAWM/frAx9uyrefI/s72-c/126730990130002.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-548810876892845145</id><published>2010-02-28T01:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T01:56:36.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Shake This</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I can't seem to shake this, whatever it is.  Its funny too.  Because I was the one who let it go and yet I'm the one reminiscing.  Maybe I thought you wouldn't forget this easily. Maybe you haven't and right now its all some facade but it really doesn't seem that way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4oTEnwmV5I/AAAAAAAAAVs/6IpLdqVYuF8/s1600-h/1266268922588441.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4oTEnwmV5I/AAAAAAAAAVs/6IpLdqVYuF8/s320/1266268922588441.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443184069743892370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe, just maybe, someday, I will forget this, all of it.  That just doesn't seem possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4oRClM5vcI/AAAAAAAAAVc/fIkaZ7iz_jQ/s1600-h/1266268922588441.jpeg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-548810876892845145?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/548810876892845145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/cant-shake-this.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/548810876892845145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/548810876892845145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/cant-shake-this.html' title='Can&apos;t Shake This'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4oTEnwmV5I/AAAAAAAAAVs/6IpLdqVYuF8/s72-c/1266268922588441.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4934776702259130068</id><published>2010-02-27T19:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T19:48:30.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Apparently its easy to forget things.  I have a good memory but there will most likely be a day when I forget my childhood best friend's home phone number or the name of my fourth grade teacher or how I was so stupid and got the worst sun burn that one summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;On the other hand, I can almost guarantee I will never forget you and all of the little things you have done for me.  I will never forget you saving my life on university's worst assignment in the history of the world, dancing with you at the pub, having you insist I buy the most ridiculous vehicles of transportation or receiving drunken phone calls from you both the night of and the afternoon after the event that I just had to be at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And even though you probably have no idea how much all of these things matter to me, I can never see them fading from my memory.  You really are the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4934776702259130068?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4934776702259130068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/best.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4934776702259130068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4934776702259130068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/best.html' title='The Best'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-587584634087614247</id><published>2010-02-26T22:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T22:25:35.468-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After All</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I started to miss you today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4iPlwO6TWI/AAAAAAAAAVE/K-wdz0csA0Q/s1600-h/1248359658911449.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4iPlwO6TWI/AAAAAAAAAVE/K-wdz0csA0Q/s320/1248359658911449.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442758028442619234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And the more I thought about it I realized maybe I didn't miss you, but what we had.  I do miss what we had, I won't deny that.  But there still is a little part of me that misses you even after everything that's happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-587584634087614247?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/587584634087614247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/after-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/587584634087614247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/587584634087614247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/after-all.html' title='After All'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4iPlwO6TWI/AAAAAAAAAVE/K-wdz0csA0Q/s72-c/1248359658911449.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-884887175739615326</id><published>2010-02-22T16:09:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T16:33:59.755-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Foolish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4L2aDkzuII/AAAAAAAAAU0/61TADjHIsxg/s1600-h/1249751904430867.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4L2aDkzuII/AAAAAAAAAU0/61TADjHIsxg/s320/1249751904430867.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441182227313703042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Have you changed or was I blind from the start? Its hard to believe we had something honest considering the current result. I'd like to hope I'm not foolish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-884887175739615326?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/884887175739615326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/foolish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/884887175739615326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/884887175739615326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/foolish.html' title='Foolish'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4L2aDkzuII/AAAAAAAAAU0/61TADjHIsxg/s72-c/1249751904430867.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6807076481352174787</id><published>2010-02-20T12:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T12:33:08.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What If?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is something intangible about this moment which feels like its in reach but I'm blinded by my own emotion which is making it seem further away then it is.  When you stepped into my reality I was blind towards what was coming.  Now, after the way this whole situation has turned out, I feel even more blind then I did in the beginning.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm feeling something I've never felt.  Its this indescribable mix of emotions penetrating my entire being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4AccE8XMjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/rnR-zFjk6j4/s1600-h/1256037331400257.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4AccE8XMjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/rnR-zFjk6j4/s320/1256037331400257.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440379618552394290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;At the end of the day, the most challenging part is that it all comes down to two simple words... what if?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6807076481352174787?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6807076481352174787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6807076481352174787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6807076481352174787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-if.html' title='What If?'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S4AccE8XMjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/rnR-zFjk6j4/s72-c/1256037331400257.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-9019231832794579122</id><published>2010-02-18T11:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T11:55:28.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Love You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Going on adventures, baking cookies, reading Post Secret, drinking tea, dancing to Sandstorm, Skyping, laughing until we cry, crying until we laugh and hearing the right thing at the right time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S31wtRZszCI/AAAAAAAAAT8/NA_qvZYgHY4/s1600-h/mLSRsDBUGp1mi4191KuP9N47o1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 153px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S31wtRZszCI/AAAAAAAAAT8/NA_qvZYgHY4/s320/mLSRsDBUGp1mi4191KuP9N47o1_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439627848001047586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being my best friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-9019231832794579122?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/9019231832794579122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-just-love-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/9019231832794579122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/9019231832794579122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-just-love-you.html' title='I Just Love You'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S31wtRZszCI/AAAAAAAAAT8/NA_qvZYgHY4/s72-c/mLSRsDBUGp1mi4191KuP9N47o1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6549004412585079710</id><published>2010-02-17T00:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T01:13:52.004-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost In Translation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I've always been one for honesty.  I've also always been one for treating people the way I like to be treated.  But let's face it, some people are liars and some people are selfish.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm naive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; but I always feel like its a slap in the face when someone I thought I knew shows me a side of them I fail to recognize and I end up lost in translation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3uHEQluPNI/AAAAAAAAATs/ViNiOLkj3TE/s1600-h/1266071531211013.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3uHEQluPNI/AAAAAAAAATs/ViNiOLkj3TE/s320/1266071531211013.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439089482222419154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And even though this time I may have speculated this outcome, it doesn't make it any less painful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6549004412585079710?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6549004412585079710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/lost-in-translation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6549004412585079710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6549004412585079710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/lost-in-translation.html' title='Lost In Translation'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3uHEQluPNI/AAAAAAAAATs/ViNiOLkj3TE/s72-c/1266071531211013.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2213832939820856646</id><published>2010-02-15T01:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T01:37:23.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Distant Stranger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're so distant now.  And I can't help but wonder if over time your gap has increased, or if you were never by my side from beginning.  I'd like to think you were, but with the way things are now, that's hard to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's a possibility I feel this way because I was in such a vulnerable state.  I opened myself to you, and closed myself off too.  Its possible that it is in fact I  who has become more distant, it just doesn't feel that way.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem like a stranger.  And even though I may have set myself up for this I feel like no one should merit the deprivation I feel at this very moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3jqRk1DYqI/AAAAAAAAATk/E3auUsipv-8/s1600-h/1266087582405310.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3jqRk1DYqI/AAAAAAAAATk/E3auUsipv-8/s320/1266087582405310.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438354137714746018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2213832939820856646?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2213832939820856646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/distant-stranger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2213832939820856646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2213832939820856646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/distant-stranger.html' title='Distant Stranger'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3jqRk1DYqI/AAAAAAAAATk/E3auUsipv-8/s72-c/1266087582405310.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4661286745308050445</id><published>2010-02-10T23:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T23:48:48.104-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's this air of mystery that has been stirring around in my soul.  I'm at this point right now where all I can do is question everything.  I'm constantly questioning my own actions and actions of others.  I'm questioning my brain, my subconscious and my heart.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that kindness isn't a notion.  I know that love isn't a notion either. None of these things I fee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;l surrounded by are notions at all; they're&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; realities.  The issue is that I have been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; looking at these realities like rain.  You can't build a fire in the rain, and right now I need a spark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I know I'll find a way to turn this around and build my fire over time.  Maybe I will find what my heart wants.  Maybe one day I will find the activity my brain craves.  Or maybe these are simple elements which will only act as kindling to my fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3OMAzbQ7-I/AAAAAAAAATc/Abp7K9z_wMo/s1600-h/1241460848740149.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3OMAzbQ7-I/AAAAAAAAATc/Abp7K9z_wMo/s320/1241460848740149.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436843120598773730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4661286745308050445?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4661286745308050445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4661286745308050445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4661286745308050445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/fire.html' title='Fire'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S3OMAzbQ7-I/AAAAAAAAATc/Abp7K9z_wMo/s72-c/1241460848740149.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8266947552240879594</id><published>2010-02-05T17:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T18:11:19.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Got You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Maybe in the midst of it all lays something that will propel us forward into something exquisite.   This situation, this moment, is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;unexplainable.  You're brilliant, I hope you know it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;.  I can see why you're confused,I am too, in my own little way.  But you've got me, and I've got you, so I guess we're doing alrig&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ht.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2ykVmPJIQI/AAAAAAAAATM/N9PLQq9qVB8/s1600-h/bird.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 188px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2ykVmPJIQI/AAAAAAAAATM/N9PLQq9qVB8/s320/bird.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434899541277614338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Don't worry, about a thing, 'cause every little thing is gonna be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8266947552240879594?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8266947552240879594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/ive-got-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8266947552240879594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8266947552240879594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/ive-got-you.html' title='I&apos;ve Got You'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2ykVmPJIQI/AAAAAAAAATM/N9PLQq9qVB8/s72-c/bird.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7839411494764139954</id><published>2010-02-04T00:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T00:20:44.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Elsewhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is no way of knowing where you are at this point in time but you should know you are greatly missed.  Its sad that you have been elsewhere for so long.  I may never see you and that would be quite a shame.  Wherever you are I want to thank you.  You have helped to mold my soul a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;nd shape my heart.  Your radiance is honest and yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ur love is like no other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2pYjtBvSgI/AAAAAAAAATE/jxwhm97wmQI/s1600-h/370405073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2pYjtBvSgI/AAAAAAAAATE/jxwhm97wmQI/s320/370405073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434253270781479426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I wish you were here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7839411494764139954?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7839411494764139954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/elsewhere.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7839411494764139954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7839411494764139954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/elsewhere.html' title='Elsewhere'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2pYjtBvSgI/AAAAAAAAATE/jxwhm97wmQI/s72-c/370405073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5933972598980681684</id><published>2010-02-03T00:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T01:19:39.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons Sleep Can Be Limited</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your mind is racing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You're speaking with someone in a different time zone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have just exercised which left you energized.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have consumed too much caffeine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You completed watching a horror film and you're too afraid to sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You feel sick.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You miss someone too much.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You want to enjoy the stillness of your home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You're emotional.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You're consumed by a book, a movie, a television show or the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your mind is still racing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If only I could be one of those individuals who falls asleep as soon as their head hits their pillow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2kVAIv7JPI/AAAAAAAAAS8/QRt_nwynMUg/s1600-h/1239463639205217.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2kVAIv7JPI/AAAAAAAAAS8/QRt_nwynMUg/s320/1239463639205217.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433897517491889394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5933972598980681684?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5933972598980681684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/reasons-sleep-can-be-limited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5933972598980681684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5933972598980681684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/reasons-sleep-can-be-limited.html' title='Reasons Sleep Can Be Limited'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2kVAIv7JPI/AAAAAAAAAS8/QRt_nwynMUg/s72-c/1239463639205217.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6798191243765824453</id><published>2010-02-02T20:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T19:42:02.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'd like to walk in your shoes just to look at things through your perspective. I would like to understand what gets you out of bed in the morning, why you  do the things you do, and what makes you tick.  Unfo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;rtunately, or maybe fortunately, I will never have the experience of seeing things from your point of view.  And I may not understand your decisions or your reasons or your choices but maybe these decisions and reasons and choices will help me piece together my own perspective on this whole situation.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been telling myself that instead of being selfish I need to be selfless. I would also like to become more brave even if it brings difficulties to my path.  Maybe trying to understand your perspective will allow me to do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2jbeXnNQ6I/AAAAAAAAASs/ggbQTja3Dqg/s1600-h/633133315.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2jbeXnNQ6I/AAAAAAAAASs/ggbQTja3Dqg/s320/633133315.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433834265203524514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I feel as though this selflessness will act like a pair of glasses and clarify and enhance my vision.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe trying to see things from your point of view will act as spectacles too; maybe it will clear my vision or maybe it will make my vision more blurry and will make me more disconnected from you then I ever was to begin with.  All I can do is try the glasses on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6798191243765824453?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6798191243765824453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/perspective.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6798191243765824453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6798191243765824453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2jbeXnNQ6I/AAAAAAAAASs/ggbQTja3Dqg/s72-c/633133315.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7713692360429020410</id><published>2010-02-01T17:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:52:27.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Robbery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In a way I feel as though I am being robbed.  I'm not sure if I feel like I am being robbed of something that was once mine or robbing myself of something unexplainable.  Its such a weird experience.  And I can't make up my mind of how to act or how to feel. In my mind I'm feeling a way that I shouldn't be feeling.  Maybe its just my subconscious telling me something I should have thought about a long time ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2dl0Z_faNI/AAAAAAAAASk/ZWVP0Z7FFqc/s1600-h/1238634807542697.jpeg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7713692360429020410?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7713692360429020410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/robbery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7713692360429020410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7713692360429020410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/02/robbery.html' title='Robbery'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1531317079559445794</id><published>2010-01-29T12:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T12:50:46.388-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2Mfq0rk59I/AAAAAAAAASU/J35M73oYgIo/s1600-h/125288042798285.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2Mfq0rk59I/AAAAAAAAASU/J35M73oYgIo/s200/125288042798285.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432220396095334354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you're out there somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to our meeting someday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1531317079559445794?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1531317079559445794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/somewhere.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1531317079559445794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1531317079559445794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/somewhere.html' title='Somewhere'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2Mfq0rk59I/AAAAAAAAASU/J35M73oYgIo/s72-c/125288042798285.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6072320697472400765</id><published>2010-01-28T15:46:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T18:04:04.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Facade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I'm currently experiencing an emotion which is unreasonable.  Maybe unreasonable isn't the word but that's what it feels like. Maybe this thing is a mixture of selfishness.  No one likes to admit that they are sel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;fish.  I'm not being selfish, I'm not intending to be selfish, but other then this unreasonableness, I am experiencing something that feels comparable to selfishness.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, no one involved in this situation knows this is how I feel.  Maybe I'm putting on a facade, but I think i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;ts for a good reason. After all, this facade is meant to disguise this feeling of unreasonableness and selfishness.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing is that even if I were to remove this mask or let go of this facade, people may actually understand this emotion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I guess my fear is that they will not understand and they will simply think I am being unreasonable and selfish.  I'm not sure why this is my fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;.  I guess I have the fear of being vulnerable.  Then again, who doesn't fear vulnerability?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2H6tu60NlI/AAAAAAAAASM/RcZB56vL0o0/s1600-h/1248463888693917.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2H6tu60NlI/AAAAAAAAASM/RcZB56vL0o0/s320/1248463888693917.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431898289181308498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6072320697472400765?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6072320697472400765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/facada.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6072320697472400765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6072320697472400765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/facada.html' title='Facade'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2H6tu60NlI/AAAAAAAAASM/RcZB56vL0o0/s72-c/1248463888693917.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5949621594088055146</id><published>2010-01-27T17:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T17:33:49.468-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Way Street</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2C_AipX7eI/AAAAAAAAASE/NhxPaOAR0Xw/s1600-h/1243463671123462.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2C_AipX7eI/AAAAAAAAASE/NhxPaOAR0Xw/s320/1243463671123462.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431551166630063586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I didn't think this is how it would end up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;I was under the impression friendship was a two way street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5949621594088055146?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5949621594088055146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/two-way-street.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5949621594088055146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5949621594088055146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/two-way-street.html' title='Two Way Street'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S2C_AipX7eI/AAAAAAAAASE/NhxPaOAR0Xw/s72-c/1243463671123462.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2883104934413414470</id><published>2010-01-26T23:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T23:58:33.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminder</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1_HEbF_DtI/AAAAAAAAAR0/8PXNl3GPbfA/s1600-h/1242788749297409.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1_HEbF_DtI/AAAAAAAAAR0/8PXNl3GPbfA/s320/1242788749297409.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431278554438373074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You have the most simple ways of bringing light to my day.  I often forget why I need you but you have the best ways of reminding me why I'll never be able to let you go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2883104934413414470?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2883104934413414470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/reminder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2883104934413414470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2883104934413414470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/reminder.html' title='Reminder'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1_HEbF_DtI/AAAAAAAAAR0/8PXNl3GPbfA/s72-c/1242788749297409.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6857912025866102023</id><published>2010-01-25T20:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T20:52:57.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Abstract Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I haven't had much inspiration as of late, whi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ch kind of sucks when you think of yourself as a writer.  I mean, I like to write.  I have the ability to write.  I choose to write, therefore I must be a writer.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had this abstract dream as of late.  My mom mentioned the building of a Tree House Village in Costa Rica and said maybe I could move there and start a career as a writer.  Apparently there is wireless, high speed Internet in these homes.  And think of the view, and the serenity.  The occasional bird may be singing at my window causing distraction from me placing my ideas onto paper but the whole idea seems intensely exceptional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S15Kk5mfeEI/AAAAAAAAARk/H5n_nHeMOA8/s1600-h/3977773445_39c57db815_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S15Kk5mfeEI/AAAAAAAAARk/H5n_nHeMOA8/s320/3977773445_39c57db815_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430860198453409858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Who knows, maybe someday I will be up in my Costa Rican Tree House writing something just for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6857912025866102023?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6857912025866102023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/abstract-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6857912025866102023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6857912025866102023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/abstract-dream.html' title='Abstract Dream'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S15Kk5mfeEI/AAAAAAAAARk/H5n_nHeMOA8/s72-c/3977773445_39c57db815_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3667998479778861953</id><published>2010-01-20T23:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T23:51:48.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1fdM0VU_EI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/hqeaFN-LRHA/s1600-h/1255073983328883.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1fdM0VU_EI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/hqeaFN-LRHA/s320/1255073983328883.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429051088094690370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Remember that organ, the one found in your left ch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;est cavity? I'm wondering what it means for most people. Love doesn't fix everything.  Being caring doesn't fix everything.  Maybe it helps; that's all I'm hoping for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3667998479778861953?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3667998479778861953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3667998479778861953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3667998479778861953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/heart.html' title='Heart'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1fdM0VU_EI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/hqeaFN-LRHA/s72-c/1255073983328883.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5187137824652393722</id><published>2010-01-19T22:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T22:25:07.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottled Energy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Its curious how individuals constantly bottle up all of this energy within themselves and eventually explode...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1Z1qB3X2II/AAAAAAAAAQc/J05dgQxdG_k/s1600-h/1242957399881633.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1Z1qB3X2II/AAAAAAAAAQc/J05dgQxdG_k/s320/1242957399881633.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428655765757352066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;This energy has the power to be positive and negative and explosively send the bottle cap shooting in another direction or slowly be unfastened by its holder and poured into another means of containment. Maybe it would be easier to let the juices constantly flow.  On the other hand, this, too, can cause negative results&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Perhaps the question is how can one fill their bottle and let it drain, too?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5187137824652393722?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5187137824652393722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/bottled-energy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5187137824652393722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5187137824652393722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/bottled-energy.html' title='Bottled Energy'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1Z1qB3X2II/AAAAAAAAAQc/J05dgQxdG_k/s72-c/1242957399881633.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4618353597391514165</id><published>2010-01-18T21:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T21:43:18.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1UZGpRjIHI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Mx4XGitCVSE/s1600-h/1259210078709158.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1UZGpRjIHI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Mx4XGitCVSE/s320/1259210078709158.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428272527814369394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Don't let the situation get you down&lt;br /&gt;Eventually it will all turn around&lt;br /&gt;The sun will shine&lt;br /&gt;It may take time&lt;br /&gt;Just believe in your beauty&lt;br /&gt;Peace will entail&lt;br /&gt;At the end of it all you will find your ale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4618353597391514165?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4618353597391514165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/simple-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4618353597391514165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4618353597391514165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/simple-poem.html' title='Simple Poem'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1UZGpRjIHI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Mx4XGitCVSE/s72-c/1259210078709158.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-9188657460723320255</id><published>2010-01-16T11:09:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T21:37:34.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If</title><content type='html'>&lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;"IF you can keep your head when all about you&lt;br /&gt;Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,&lt;br /&gt;If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,&lt;br /&gt;But make allowance for their doubting too;&lt;br /&gt;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,&lt;br /&gt;Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,&lt;br /&gt;Or being hated, don't give way to hating,&lt;br /&gt;And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;&lt;br /&gt;If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;&lt;br /&gt;If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster&lt;br /&gt;And treat those two impostors just the same;&lt;br /&gt;If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken&lt;br /&gt;Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,&lt;br /&gt;Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,&lt;br /&gt;And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;If you can make one heap of all your winnings&lt;br /&gt;And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,&lt;br /&gt;And lose, and start again at your beginnings&lt;br /&gt;And never breathe a word about your loss;&lt;br /&gt;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew&lt;br /&gt;To serve your turn long after they are gone,&lt;br /&gt;And so hold on when there is nothing in you&lt;br /&gt;Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,&lt;br /&gt;' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,&lt;br /&gt;if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,&lt;br /&gt;If all men count with you, but none too much;&lt;br /&gt;If you can fill the unforgiving minute&lt;br /&gt;With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,&lt;br /&gt;Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,&lt;br /&gt;And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;-Rudyard Kipling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Special thanks to a good friend of mine who read me this poem at a time when I needed to hear it most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-9188657460723320255?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/9188657460723320255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/9188657460723320255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/9188657460723320255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/if.html' title='If'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4008716864522808354</id><published>2010-01-15T09:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T10:07:53.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Break Beyond the Barricade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;Its strange how a complex situation has the power to turn itself around and seem simple when in its entirety its still just as complicated as it was in the beginning. When something seems complex, the right thing to do is make it simple, turn it around in your favor, cut out the none sense. I feel its necessary to tell things the way they are but sometimes revealing the truth doesn't make a situation any less complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the ability to make a decision changes t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;he way the situation ends up. In my mind there are constant barriers blocking specific situations.  I need to find the boldness to break down the barricades and do myself a favor by making things less complicated and communicating with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1CEeQoUUkI/AAAAAAAAAQM/2awbreADAGk/s1600-h/1240781571697480.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1CEeQoUUkI/AAAAAAAAAQM/2awbreADAGk/s320/1240781571697480.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426983206376460866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;I'm not exactly sure how to do it.  I need to let it go and be set free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4008716864522808354?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4008716864522808354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/break-beyond-barricade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4008716864522808354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4008716864522808354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/break-beyond-barricade.html' title='Break Beyond the Barricade'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S1CEeQoUUkI/AAAAAAAAAQM/2awbreADAGk/s72-c/1240781571697480.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2428264326672732026</id><published>2010-01-12T20:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T20:44:20.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Respect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S00lZJhpjCI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NMp2TzfB7Cg/s1600-h/1249061324773764.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S00lZJhpjCI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NMp2TzfB7Cg/s200/1249061324773764.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426034240035327010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm questioning if my mother was the only person on the planet who taught her children from the time they had any sense of what a relationship was that you should treat others the way you wish to be treated. It never fails to amaze me how so many adults struggle to think of someone else other than themselves for a split second.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2428264326672732026?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2428264326672732026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/respect.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2428264326672732026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2428264326672732026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/respect.html' title='Respect'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S00lZJhpjCI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NMp2TzfB7Cg/s72-c/1249061324773764.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4377613061882744348</id><published>2010-01-11T21:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T22:01:01.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comparisons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Black or white.  Right or wrong. Blond or brunette. It is evident that our daily lives and decisions often revolve around comparison. Whether or not you admit it, you constantly compare people, food, music, literature, and societies. Its curious really. Recently I have been entertained by the fact of comparison; the comparison of feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Comparison of feelings is the most complicated form of comparison because its impossible to compare our sentiments with that of another individual.  As much as I would sometimes like to feel others emotions, its not going to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;At this point in my life I am being faced with a decision which is solely based on feeling.  Although it can be backed up by logic and thoughts, this type of decision is best made using one's emotional senses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I find myself continually frustrated with this situation not only because I'm not sure what I want but because I am constantly trying to compare my experiences and emotions to that of others.  The question is what good can come from this? What good comes from comparing one person to another? Do we appreciate certain characteristics more? What comes from comparing certain foods to one another? To decide which is more tasty or which is more healthy?   And honestly, what good comes from comparing our emotions? Does it help us decide who, what and which things make us most content at the end of the day? If this is the case, bring on the comparisons.  Right now, however I feel as though these comparisons are only leading to more confusion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0vkBHu4k8I/AAAAAAAAAPU/1G6csV5YhIA/s1600-h/1253884847773089.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0vkBHu4k8I/AAAAAAAAAPU/1G6csV5YhIA/s320/1253884847773089.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425680884004590530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4377613061882744348?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4377613061882744348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/comparisons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4377613061882744348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4377613061882744348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/comparisons.html' title='Comparisons'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0vkBHu4k8I/AAAAAAAAAPU/1G6csV5YhIA/s72-c/1253884847773089.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4962796567428095678</id><published>2010-01-08T15:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T15:48:17.295-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wandering</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;I feel like people are on this constant mission to obtain something they're not even remotely sure exists. I often find myself questioning how my life would be if I forgot the possibility of what my purpose is or if I will ever accomplish what it is I think I want for the future.  Every morning, one has the opportunity to get out of bed and go after what they want, and peo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;ple continually fail to do so.  I'm not sure what I want. I'm not sure if I want to be married.  I'm not sure what profession I want in the future. I'm not even sure what kind of dog I want to great me at the door upon the arrival to my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too often we contain ourselves in certain environments to define ourselves.  We define ourselves by our age, our gender, our nationality, our race, our religion, our economic situation, our jobs, our societie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" &gt;s, etc. I'm not trying to say this is always negative, but maybe we should forget it all for a minute and try to figure out what's important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its kind of an impossible thing.  Its just easy to be overwhelmed in a place like the world we live in. I don't want to form an  impression that everyone is ungrateful, or arrogant or lost. But sometimes all one can do is wander and try to figure it all out, if there is a way to figure it out. I don't think I will ever be able to answer this question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0eZ48dJF4I/AAAAAAAAAO8/n0QUOLhtOL4/s1600-h/1245297645894864.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0eZ48dJF4I/AAAAAAAAAO8/n0QUOLhtOL4/s320/1245297645894864.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424473479771133826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4962796567428095678?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4962796567428095678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/wandering.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4962796567428095678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4962796567428095678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/wandering.html' title='Wandering'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0eZ48dJF4I/AAAAAAAAAO8/n0QUOLhtOL4/s72-c/1245297645894864.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3225367950146882306</id><published>2010-01-06T23:47:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T00:47:14.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>True to You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Simplicity is the way to go.  I will never understand the mind games people insist on playing. So often our minds and emotions fall victim of the other players' previous moves, making a checkmate scenario unavoidable.  Its almost as though they are trying to force you into a situation where you are the one being upfront and honest and they are blocking themselves behind a barrier of tricks, and distorted realities. At the end of the day,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; you look like the bad guy for telling things the way they are, when the other person is blinded by their own facade. So what is it? Are people afraid of the truth? The truth can be miserable.  The truth is al&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;so entirely beautiful. It is the way one goes abou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;t admitting his truths which makes a world of difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0V0LBJGytI/AAAAAAAAAO0/ihBcf-SB9fs/s1600-h/1240252867630503.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0V0LBJGytI/AAAAAAAAAO0/ihBcf-SB9fs/s320/1240252867630503.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423869058871642834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;One can continually hide themselves and their truths from others but at the end of the day you are cheating yourself.  Accept reality, face your fear of honesty, be straightforward, be kind, and be true to you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3225367950146882306?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3225367950146882306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/true-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3225367950146882306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3225367950146882306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/true-to-you.html' title='True to You'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0V0LBJGytI/AAAAAAAAAO0/ihBcf-SB9fs/s72-c/1240252867630503.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3889227073451162232</id><published>2010-01-04T20:06:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T20:52:07.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Key to Everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Lately I have been contemplating decisions, wondering about the future, missing people who are away, questioning others decisions, trying to avoid deep thought processes leading to stress, and pondering life's processes. Maybe all of this time I should have been appreciating what I have and not worrying about what comes next, however,sometimes clearing one's mind is more difficult then it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0KZSLNNV8I/AAAAAAAAAOc/P9UNDphHyQg/s1600-h/1247923432483327.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0KZSLNNV8I/AAAAAAAAAOc/P9UNDphHyQg/s320/1247923432483327.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423065438832383938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe in reality having the key to everything is the worst possible outcome.  Maybe all the decisions being contemplated are meant to be thought out. Maybe its healthy to be curious about the future.  Maybe missing people who are away leads to loving them more once they return. Maybe questioning others decisions helps us make good decisions for ourselves. Maybe sometimes thoughts are better off as simple. And maybe, just maybe, pondering life's processes is what should spend our time doing.   Nothing in life is sure, but at the end of the day maybe the key to everything is a nightmare.  Maybe there is no key at all. To be honest, I hope there is a key to something, who wants to be locked up all the time anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3889227073451162232?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3889227073451162232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/key-to-everything.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3889227073451162232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3889227073451162232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/key-to-everything.html' title='Key to Everything'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/S0KZSLNNV8I/AAAAAAAAAOc/P9UNDphHyQg/s72-c/1247923432483327.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4613887555137849148</id><published>2010-01-02T11:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T11:33:06.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome, 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Welcome, 2010.  How about some words of wisdom for the coming year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;XXXIII&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who knows others is clever; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who knows himself has discernment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who overcomes others has force; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who overcomes himself is strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who knows contentment is rich;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who preserves is a man of purpose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who does not lose his station will endure;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He who lives out his day has a long life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Loa Tzu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Toa Te Ching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4613887555137849148?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4613887555137849148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4613887555137849148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4613887555137849148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html' title='Welcome, 2010'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7833706609756205708</id><published>2009-12-31T00:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T01:14:53.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Your Element</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;There has to be something said about being in your element. Tonight, I was far from being in mine but I was surrounded by individuals fueled with energy, optimism and endless emotion.  Every once in a while I would catch their eye and reflected within their soul was a sense of belonging and prosperity.  Its not often you witness someone so deep in their element that you realize their creative genius is overflowing and pouring out of their every ounce of being. Its so refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part is, they have no clue how spectacular it is to be witnessed doing their own thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7833706609756205708?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7833706609756205708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/in-your-element.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7833706609756205708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7833706609756205708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/in-your-element.html' title='In Your Element'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3894747064539319380</id><published>2009-12-28T00:26:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T10:45:46.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Next</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure whether things will work out.  I don't even know how to shape the situation so that things could work out in both of our favors. I could blink and this could become a cold, distant memory or I could open my eyes and feel an incomparable easiness. Who knows what comes next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzhD4lw_iNI/AAAAAAAAAOE/_qiEB1WbarQ/s1600-h/1245710157380645.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzhD4lw_iNI/AAAAAAAAAOE/_qiEB1WbarQ/s320/1245710157380645.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420156791029729490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Maybe one day it will all make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3894747064539319380?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3894747064539319380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/next.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3894747064539319380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3894747064539319380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/next.html' title='Next'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzhD4lw_iNI/AAAAAAAAAOE/_qiEB1WbarQ/s72-c/1245710157380645.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7252029945874932485</id><published>2009-12-23T22:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T23:36:52.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Worlds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzLvIy4ElxI/AAAAAAAAANk/tRo_WVuA7dI/s1600-h/1243734943843551.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzLvIy4ElxI/AAAAAAAAANk/tRo_WVuA7dI/s400/1243734943843551.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418656236055074578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't agree more. Maybe if I could figure some of these worlds my world would make a lot more sense.  I can't figure myself out half the time let alone anyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7252029945874932485?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7252029945874932485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/worlds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7252029945874932485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7252029945874932485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/worlds.html' title='Worlds'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SzLvIy4ElxI/AAAAAAAAANk/tRo_WVuA7dI/s72-c/1243734943843551.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3603042103661357068</id><published>2009-12-21T16:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T16:50:20.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sy_s3H-C1tI/AAAAAAAAAM8/f9dTK--RA40/s1600-h/1250819207209289.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sy_s3H-C1tI/AAAAAAAAAM8/f9dTK--RA40/s320/1250819207209289.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417809308526237394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Maybe there is no better advice then this.  I think its exactly what we need right now. I'm sure we'll figure it out, it just may not be easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3603042103661357068?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3603042103661357068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/patience.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3603042103661357068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3603042103661357068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sy_s3H-C1tI/AAAAAAAAAM8/f9dTK--RA40/s72-c/1250819207209289.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1801367560252462187</id><published>2009-12-18T13:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T13:13:57.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reach Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyvF0pkh39I/AAAAAAAAAMs/smNMlO8QFTk/s1600-h/1243595775867288.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyvF0pkh39I/AAAAAAAAAMs/smNMlO8QFTk/s320/1243595775867288.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416640485146091474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I hate knowing that I could reach out to you and you wouldn't even move your hand from its current place to reach back. My own actions lead to this consequence.  Its just difficult knowing things may never change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1801367560252462187?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1801367560252462187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/reach-out.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1801367560252462187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1801367560252462187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/reach-out.html' title='Reach Out'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyvF0pkh39I/AAAAAAAAAMs/smNMlO8QFTk/s72-c/1243595775867288.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2710217790438800563</id><published>2009-12-16T13:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T13:45:12.472-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doubt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The reality of all of those moments are only faint memories now. Your voice resides in my mind as your heart is fleeing from mine.  Even though I was the one to make the decision it doesn't mean it was an easy one.  You're around, but you're further then you have ever been.  I never doubted you.  I only doubted myself. I think that self-doubt can turn into something so uncomfortable that it buries itself deep within you, and not even the biggest shovel could dig it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SykpTnliBeI/AAAAAAAAAMk/0Nf6lvjmdII/s1600-h/1243510267352693.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SykpTnliBeI/AAAAAAAAAMk/0Nf6lvjmdII/s320/1243510267352693.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415905443910387170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And you tell me I never gave myself a chance to discuss this doubt with myself or with you. And maybe you're right.  But at the same time this doubt never meant to cause what it has flourished into.   Half the time I can't distinguish my own thoughts from one another let alone what I am doubting and what I am not.   You have every reason to react the way you are, but just know that my heart still holds a place for you, and I miss you more and more every day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2710217790438800563?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2710217790438800563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/doubt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2710217790438800563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2710217790438800563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/doubt.html' title='Doubt'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SykpTnliBeI/AAAAAAAAAMk/0Nf6lvjmdII/s72-c/1243510267352693.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1362013431226012931</id><published>2009-12-15T11:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T12:25:19.081-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I think I need to take a journey to Oz.  I need to be given strength by some magical wizard.  The last couple of days have left me feeling heartless, brainless and non courageous.  Its not even that anyone has robbed me of this but I have lost them along the journey I am currently taking.  I know that they reside within me but I'm in such a state that I feel they have vacated me completely.  So whether its a trip to Oz or tapping my re&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;d sequined shoes to return to the place of f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;eeling at home, I need something to get &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e out of this sate of mind, heart, and soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyfGV7n8hDI/AAAAAAAAAMU/ta9JlBuEHc0/s1600-h/wizard-of-oz-metal-sign.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 165px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyfGV7n8hDI/AAAAAAAAAMU/ta9JlBuEHc0/s200/wizard-of-oz-metal-sign.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415515157021099058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1362013431226012931?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1362013431226012931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/oz.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1362013431226012931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1362013431226012931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/oz.html' title='Oz'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyfGV7n8hDI/AAAAAAAAAMU/ta9JlBuEHc0/s72-c/wizard-of-oz-metal-sign.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2526238549358211806</id><published>2009-12-14T21:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T21:34:56.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SybzccKLV_I/AAAAAAAAAL8/jaljfdbPeQA/s1600-h/1246399195892144.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SybzccKLV_I/AAAAAAAAAL8/jaljfdbPeQA/s320/1246399195892144.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415283271880366066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Today I was honest and it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.  I never knew trying to do something that will end up being for the better could penetrate your soul and cut you up into a million tiny little pieces leaving your hopes shattered.  Today, I was honest, and truthfully it really did hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2526238549358211806?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2526238549358211806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/honesty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2526238549358211806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2526238549358211806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/honesty.html' title='Honesty'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SybzccKLV_I/AAAAAAAAAL8/jaljfdbPeQA/s72-c/1246399195892144.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-20117440011031396</id><published>2009-12-13T20:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T20:13:40.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhaustion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I honestly don't even know how to feel anymore.  All I can do is sit here and question everything and think.  And I'm so tired.  I'm tried of thinking.  I'm tired of feeling like I can never give you what yo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;u need. I'm tired of feeling like the person I need most is never going to relate me me the way I hope they will.  I'm tired of seeing you being treated like crap when you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;deserve the best. I'm also tired of you missing someone who may or may not miss you in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its not even like I can tell you what I w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ant or need to come from this.  All that I know is that I'm sick of the way thin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;gs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; are playing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyWQTyDICLI/AAAAAAAAALk/BrMof58n16A/s1600-h/125365754293262.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyWQTyDICLI/AAAAAAAAALk/BrMof58n16A/s320/125365754293262.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414892796509685938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-20117440011031396?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/20117440011031396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/exhaustion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/20117440011031396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/20117440011031396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/exhaustion.html' title='Exhaustion'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SyWQTyDICLI/AAAAAAAAALk/BrMof58n16A/s72-c/125365754293262.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3438126093127074605</id><published>2009-12-08T19:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T13:16:22.524-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Original</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx7wvKBWLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/VfCY_AUM43c/s1600-h/1237716452875933.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 149px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx7wvKBWLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/VfCY_AUM43c/s320/1237716452875933.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413028495080435202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You know that thing when you compare your life events to that of another?  Or you ask yourself if you're doing something the right way?  I've had this mentality as of late.  And, to be honest, I'm so sick of it.  Its not even that I care what other people think.  There's just something good in knowing that you're not the only one who feels the way you feel. But, at the end of the day, its still important to make your own decisions, follow your gut, and know that you're doing the best you can.  I wish that it were as easy as it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3438126093127074605?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3438126093127074605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/original.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3438126093127074605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3438126093127074605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/original.html' title='Original'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx7wvKBWLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/VfCY_AUM43c/s72-c/1237716452875933.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2611076274915378152</id><published>2009-12-07T11:10:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T11:22:49.984-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom and Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;For the life of me I can't figure out what this means.  Is it good? Is it bad? Is it right? Is it wrong? Is it normal? Is it abnormal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;To others its not a big deal, but to me these are all vital questions. Maybe its scary because its the beginning.  Maybe its stressful because I don't know what's next.  For all I know, when its all said and done, you could walk away leaving me broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Maybe that's what this is all about.  The fact that this trust can be taken away just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx0qn0syL5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/BN_Q93P3fuA/s1600-h/1256874540912396.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx0qn0syL5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/BN_Q93P3fuA/s320/1256874540912396.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412529190818951058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I'm kind of counting on truth and time to tell all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2611076274915378152?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2611076274915378152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/wisdom-and-soul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2611076274915378152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2611076274915378152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/wisdom-and-soul.html' title='Wisdom and Soul'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sx0qn0syL5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/BN_Q93P3fuA/s72-c/1256874540912396.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8337480034155225514</id><published>2009-12-04T20:00:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T22:26:45.307-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this.  Its strange getting used to something this new.  Knowing me, I'm over an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;alyzing the entire situation.  I need to be sure not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; to ruin it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxmyjeyuHmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/bk1QYx_mHoE/s1600-h/1241690117716182.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxmyjeyuHmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/bk1QYx_mHoE/s200/1241690117716182.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411552749893328482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everything should be as simple as it is, but not simpler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8337480034155225514?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8337480034155225514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-beginning.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8337480034155225514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8337480034155225514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-beginning.html' title='New Beginning'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxmyjeyuHmI/AAAAAAAAAKc/bk1QYx_mHoE/s72-c/1241690117716182.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4237951358472844890</id><published>2009-12-03T01:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T01:45:53.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perplexed Notion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This whole notion of people thinking I'm going to be angry is silly.  People often say "There is something I need to say to you but please don't be upset."  First of all, that's not a promise I can make.  Secondly, am I that much of an awful person that I would become so upset over something that at the end of the day isn't all that important? Everything is important, but just because you're breaking some news to me doesn't mean its the end of the wor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ld.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This whole idea that people think I will be upset is making me perplexed.  I know that I'm a serious person but maybe people take my seriousness too seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxdeWz2QZvI/AAAAAAAAAKE/-EvWbhK8wbo/s1600-h/1245450695836967.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxdeWz2QZvI/AAAAAAAAAKE/-EvWbhK8wbo/s320/1245450695836967.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410897223276848882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I just need to be more laid back.  Then again, so do others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4237951358472844890?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4237951358472844890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/perplexed-notion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4237951358472844890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4237951358472844890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/perplexed-notion.html' title='Perplexed Notion'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxdeWz2QZvI/AAAAAAAAAKE/-EvWbhK8wbo/s72-c/1245450695836967.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2273045969952130265</id><published>2009-12-02T00:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T01:03:58.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oxymoron</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;People keep asking me how I feel about a certain situation as if I could describe the feeling simply.  They ask if I'm happy, or relieved, or nervous.  Maybe its a combination or maybe its the fact that I'm glad things are changing while staying the same.  This is an oxymoron, I get it, but its what I'm counting on.  I know that things will somehow change, its inevitable.  All that's important to me right now is that you keep your promises and don't start acting all weird on me.  After all, that would just be a major disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxYDL9E-jkI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/WunKBfymDuQ/s1600-h/1245998740592883.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxYDL9E-jkI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/WunKBfymDuQ/s200/1245998740592883.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410515506241113666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2273045969952130265?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2273045969952130265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/oxymoron.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2273045969952130265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2273045969952130265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/12/oxymoron.html' title='Oxymoron'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SxYDL9E-jkI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/WunKBfymDuQ/s72-c/1245998740592883.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1456539279612508095</id><published>2009-11-26T22:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T22:38:29.882-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Let Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm starting to think that maybe its not so much about the occurrence of an  epiphany but the idea of letting go of any questions. Its not about whether or not its right or wrong, but whether it makes you happy and your hope is that things will only go uphill from where you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sw9HrK1qavI/AAAAAAAAAJk/rFo04_pNMAo/s1600/1245522333767534.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 399px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sw9HrK1qavI/AAAAAAAAAJk/rFo04_pNMAo/s400/1245522333767534.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408620484464634610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;I don't think I'm ready to let it go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1456539279612508095?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1456539279612508095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/cant-let-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1456539279612508095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1456539279612508095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/cant-let-go.html' title='Can&apos;t Let Go'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Sw9HrK1qavI/AAAAAAAAAJk/rFo04_pNMAo/s72-c/1245522333767534.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5550785418399914691</id><published>2009-11-24T19:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T19:42:58.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Risk and Reward</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Swx8POOpgGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/d0Ao8BosADc/s1600/1242030368844807.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 302px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Swx8POOpgGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/d0Ao8BosADc/s320/1242030368844807.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407833853524541538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Swx8POOpgGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/d0Ao8BosADc/s1600/1242030368844807.jpeg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I'm not sure I know how to make this kind of decis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;ion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;.  Some people say there is a moment when you should know.  Others say there is a reason you should know.  Some individuals state that doubt means &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;don't and others say you never know until you try.  Unfortunately none of t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;hese answe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;rs are helpful at the moment.  I'm kind of counting on an epiphany. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5550785418399914691?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5550785418399914691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/risk-and-reward.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5550785418399914691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5550785418399914691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/risk-and-reward.html' title='Risk and Reward'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/Swx8POOpgGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/d0Ao8BosADc/s72-c/1242030368844807.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7598125074116773340</id><published>2009-11-23T18:55:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T20:28:09.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having a Skype date with your best friend who lives across the country.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sleeping in your own bed after you have been away from home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being the first person to use a new jar of peanut butter.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Receiving mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finding something you thought you had lost.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Giving someone a gift 'just because.'&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laughing so hard that you're crying.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Waking up to text messages from friends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finding someone who just 'gets' you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching the same movie over and over again and never getting sick of it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eating chocolate.  Or ice cream.  Or chocolate and ice cream. Or chocolate ice cream.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seeing someone you haven't seen in a very long time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hearing a sound that reminds you of someone or something good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not caring what other people think.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feeling beautiful.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finding somone with a good heart.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feeling comfortable in a place you've never been.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having a good night sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When your dog greets you when you come home after a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading a new magazine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7598125074116773340?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7598125074116773340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/best-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7598125074116773340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7598125074116773340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/best-things.html' title='The Best Things'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-2256616714683693126</id><published>2009-11-22T23:03:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:32:23.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Masks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwoO6xh4BgI/AAAAAAAAAIU/N9zasWdMaDs/s1600/1242138143167896.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwoO6xh4BgI/AAAAAAAAAIU/N9zasWdMaDs/s320/1242138143167896.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407150705502324226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Maybe we're meant to consider everything.  Maybe we're meant to be breakable so that when we are broken we can put the pieces back together.  Or if we are shattered into smithereens someone can help to set everything back into place.  Maybe the only person who can truly rip us apart is ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my heart has several masks and that is why I never know how to identify its true desires.  Maybe I am the one injuring myself because of my indecision. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Its so difficult understanding what you really want sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-2256616714683693126?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/2256616714683693126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/masks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2256616714683693126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/2256616714683693126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/masks.html' title='Masks'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwoO6xh4BgI/AAAAAAAAAIU/N9zasWdMaDs/s72-c/1242138143167896.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1163690542943360745</id><published>2009-11-20T16:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:40:43.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;We are all better off when we are loved.  Fact or fiction?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwcKBvy7FfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/LGJZO9iFiHg/s1600/1243337665473541.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwcKBvy7FfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/LGJZO9iFiHg/s320/1243337665473541.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406300902807770610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1163690542943360745?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1163690542943360745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/love_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1163690542943360745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1163690542943360745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/love_20.html' title='Love'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwcKBvy7FfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/LGJZO9iFiHg/s72-c/1243337665473541.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5510193243349775422</id><published>2009-11-18T18:54:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:42:19.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear of the Unknown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm not so sure about this whole "we'll see how things go." I kind of like not knowing exactly what to expect.  At the same time its draining.  Time is valuable, you know? I know there is an outcome.  But what is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwSKcDPhexI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Y4jwbD9w8Lg/s1600/1244588536353639.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwSKcDPhexI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Y4jwbD9w8Lg/s320/1244588536353639.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405597667262823186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;As much as I would like to think I am only curious, that would be a lie. Right now I have a fear of the unknown. I guess all I really need is the reassurance that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;no matter how things turn out, everything will be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5510193243349775422?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5510193243349775422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/fear-of-unknown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5510193243349775422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5510193243349775422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/fear-of-unknown.html' title='Fear of the Unknown'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwSKcDPhexI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Y4jwbD9w8Lg/s72-c/1244588536353639.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5528302353526225641</id><published>2009-11-18T00:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:42:37.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;In all honesty I wish you were here.  I know that if you were here things wouldn't be much different.  I would be asking questions and you would be giving vague answers but none of that really matters.  I think many people misunderstand you.  Half the time I don't even understand you.  That's part of what makes you so intriguing. I doubt I will ever figure you out, and I'm starting to think that's okay. But in the stillness of the night when all I can hear is the ticking of a nearby clock all I can think about is how I wish you were home.  When your plane lands and you're here again it won't change the fact that you're just going to turn around and leave.  And I know that things won't be any different between us- whether that be good or bad.  But maybe some day you will understand that my heart aches a little every day that you are away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5528302353526225641?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5528302353526225641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5528302353526225641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5528302353526225641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-miss-you.html' title='I Miss You'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8144326842458450049</id><published>2009-11-15T19:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:42:55.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone in a Crowd</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today I was in a place of which I have never been.  I looked around, took everything in and sat in the room alone.  There were people surrounding me, none of which I knew, and it hit me.  Sometimes being alone in a room full of strangers is exactly what you need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwCbw_dLY9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/MACk6chIbnM/s1600-h/alone-in-a-crowd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwCbw_dLY9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/MACk6chIbnM/s320/alone-in-a-crowd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404490818814436306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8144326842458450049?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8144326842458450049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/alone-in-crowd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8144326842458450049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8144326842458450049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/alone-in-crowd.html' title='Alone in a Crowd'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwCbw_dLY9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/MACk6chIbnM/s72-c/alone-in-a-crowd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7546265456355678752</id><published>2009-11-12T19:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:43:20.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The excitement is building.  I'm like a child on Christmas Eve eagerly awaiting the arrival of Santa Clause.  But instead of waking up in the morning and spending time with family and opening gifts, I will get into my car and come to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not trying to build up this intense moment in my mind of how it will be when I see you or how you will look or the look on your face.  Rather, I am impatiently awaiting a feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This feeling is not necessarily something that can be expressed with simple words.  But I know that when I see you, however the moment turns out to be, I will finally be in that place I feel like I haven't been in ages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Not only will I be tremendously blissful, but I know I will have a sense of security.  And, I know that the time I spend with you will not only be spectacular, but you will take me out of my shell and prove to me that everything I have been doubting will not only be okay, but it will all work out for the better.  And I know you will devote your energy to my problems.  And I know that you will be honest.  And most importantly, I know you will let go and enjoy the moment.  And I know we will laugh.  And maybe we will cry.  But the simplicity of spending time with you is all that I care about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And that is why I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7546265456355678752?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7546265456355678752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7546265456355678752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7546265456355678752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-to-you.html' title='Back to You'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5068089820285810653</id><published>2009-11-11T21:09:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T21:01:25.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have learned that it is important to let go in certain moments and just be. There is a certain point when you just feel you need to liberate yourself.  Sometimes it can be tough to let go and forget, and sometimes its exactly what you need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvtyB81EuyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/zJaxrDFhBaw/s1600-h/1244085999117687.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvtyB81EuyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/zJaxrDFhBaw/s320/1244085999117687.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403037555795213090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;'Who says I can’t be free?&lt;br /&gt;From all of the things that I used to be&lt;br /&gt;Re-write my history&lt;br /&gt;Who says I can’t be free?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="TixyyLink" style="border: medium none ; overflow: hidden; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5068089820285810653?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5068089820285810653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/liberation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5068089820285810653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5068089820285810653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/liberation.html' title='Liberation'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvtyB81EuyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/zJaxrDFhBaw/s72-c/1244085999117687.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6286773492323426205</id><published>2009-11-10T12:38:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:39:55.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unbearable Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I never knew what this moment would feel like until it got here.  And here it is.  I'm basking in it.  Its happening.  Its like this raw emotion penetrating my entire being.  And as I passed you by, I was hoping you would look me in the eye.  You didn't.  You probably didn't even see me, but that's besides the point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;All I can feel is an emptiness within myself.  Its kind of like the feeling that you were here, and everything was fine and dandy, and now I'm simply lost in the idea of you. And I wish you were next to me, but you're not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm still upset about this whole situation, but this feeling of bleakness is so unbearable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I think my fear has finally caught up to me.  I thought things would be simple and in turn they are mind bogglingly complex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I was in denial.  And now its happening.  Maybe your heart will find a way to reconsider.  I really hope it does.  That would make this situation a lot easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe things are meant to be complicated right now.  I desperately need them to come together.  I guess I need to grasp that this is the way it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvmqJ6QzsBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/11tV5FqjpfI/s1600-h/1242410123185289.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvmqJ6QzsBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/11tV5FqjpfI/s320/1242410123185289.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402536315242917906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6286773492323426205?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6286773492323426205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/unbearable-truth.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6286773492323426205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6286773492323426205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/unbearable-truth.html' title='Unbearable Truth'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvmqJ6QzsBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/11tV5FqjpfI/s72-c/1242410123185289.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5030054037649241595</id><published>2009-11-08T18:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:44:38.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Nova Scotia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I know you need to be there.  Its good you're there actually.  Its what you needed and what you still need.  Its just hard to accept that when I need you most you're no longer a quick drive away.  You're so far away.  But you know what I've learned from you being gone? Even though you're not at your house on Silver Springs Crescent, you're still at one of your many homes; your home in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvddlNDSG4I/AAAAAAAAAF4/u42xkyIldpE/s1600-h/eglisestemarie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvddlNDSG4I/AAAAAAAAAF4/u42xkyIldpE/s320/eglisestemarie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401889171794172802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5030054037649241595?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5030054037649241595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/damn-nova-scotia.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5030054037649241595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5030054037649241595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/damn-nova-scotia.html' title='Damn Nova Scotia'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvddlNDSG4I/AAAAAAAAAF4/u42xkyIldpE/s72-c/eglisestemarie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4002865072279891839</id><published>2009-11-08T04:05:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:45:03.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Still Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvaVrek1VBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/k99sJK5RBcQ/s1600-h/124405806357425.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvaVrek1VBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/k99sJK5RBcQ/s320/124405806357425.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401669377251955730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I sometimes have doubts about you but you always seem to come around when its most important. Really, that's all that matters anyways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4002865072279891839?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4002865072279891839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/youre-still-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4002865072279891839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4002865072279891839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/youre-still-here.html' title='You&apos;re Still Here'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvaVrek1VBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/k99sJK5RBcQ/s72-c/124405806357425.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8119053762316212723</id><published>2009-11-05T21:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:45:29.368-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reassurance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvOJXpsPNAI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ojQNGgQN3jQ/s1600-h/1244085048367547.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvOJXpsPNAI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ojQNGgQN3jQ/s320/1244085048367547.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400811417568752642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I always find it refreshing when you can't make up your mind and the most simple thing changes your perspective.  I love a hint of reassurance every once in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8119053762316212723?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8119053762316212723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/reassurance.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8119053762316212723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8119053762316212723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/reassurance.html' title='Reassurance'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvOJXpsPNAI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ojQNGgQN3jQ/s72-c/1244085048367547.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1751871211646003557</id><published>2009-11-03T08:48:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:46:27.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its the Simple Things in Life We Forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today has been a good day so far.  I love waking up to sunshine coming in my window and not being forced out of  bed by an alarm clock. I never realized how waking up in the morning and just taking a minute to rest for one last second and experience your surroundings can be so important.  Half the time I forget to think about how great I have it.  Its the simple things in life we forget.   Today I will try and remember how simplicity can bring joy.  What makes your life simply wonderful?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvA3gNYHbjI/AAAAAAAAAE4/d-c_lrzDH6I/s1600-h/1236484870926478.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvA3gNYHbjI/AAAAAAAAAE4/d-c_lrzDH6I/s320/1236484870926478.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399876979703377458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"It's the simple things in life we forget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; You hear her talkin' but don't hear what she said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Why do you make something so easy so complicated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; Searching for what's right in front of your face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; But you can't see it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1751871211646003557?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1751871211646003557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-simple-things-in-life-we-forget.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1751871211646003557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1751871211646003557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-simple-things-in-life-we-forget.html' title='Its the Simple Things in Life We Forget'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SvA3gNYHbjI/AAAAAAAAAE4/d-c_lrzDH6I/s72-c/1236484870926478.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5771745247889249420</id><published>2009-11-02T17:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:46:52.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Between a Rock and a Hard Place</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure how I should be feeling about this whole situation.  I mean, I'm suppose to be happy, but I'm a little confused.  I thought this was suppose to be easy but somehow it always has a way of becoming more complex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm caught between a rock and a hard place.  I don't want it to be a question of this or that, right or wrong, but at this point I feel its going to end up that way.  I mean, how can I even distinguish what the right choice is, when I feel like there shouldn't be a choice, period.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I always thought this would be simple.  Maybe not.  Maybe I'm too simple minded.  I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5771745247889249420?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5771745247889249420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/between-rock-and-hard-place.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5771745247889249420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5771745247889249420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/between-rock-and-hard-place.html' title='Between a Rock and a Hard Place'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-8605840068437192473</id><published>2009-11-01T20:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:47:15.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Back to Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I know you're here.  I go to sleep at night, and you're in the house, in your own bed, fast asleep. But, you're somehow gone.  You're not really here.  I miss you.  I know its not easy for you right now.  Its upsetting for me to know how things are such a challenge for you in this moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;You know I would do anything for you, right?  I want you back.  I want you to go back to your normal self.  I miss the person you were.  I know you're still there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I love you.  Come back to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-8605840068437192473?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/8605840068437192473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/come-back-to-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8605840068437192473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/8605840068437192473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/11/come-back-to-me.html' title='Come Back to Me'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-7994905362687468155</id><published>2009-10-30T13:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:47:42.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>D'amour et d'amitié</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="" lang="FR-CA"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;J’espère qu’un jour vous réalisez que nous devons être ensemble.   J’espère que vous trouvez une place pour moi dans votre cœur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-7994905362687468155?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/7994905362687468155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/3.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7994905362687468155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/7994905362687468155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/3.html' title='D&apos;amour et d&apos;amitié'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-1589695343244723271</id><published>2009-10-28T11:35:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:48:15.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Identification</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today I had the pleasure of reading a  blog post written by someone who is extremely important to me.  Not only did the post make me curious but it put me in a deep sense of thought.  The question she poses in the post is who are you and what is your purpose?  I'd like to say I know but since I'm not 100% sure I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to take a stab at explaining myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Taylor is my name, Tay Tay to some, Shorty to others.  I love meeting new people and will at most chances take the opportunity to have intriguing conversations with strangers.  I am a homebody.  I have a serious demeanor, although I mean nothing negative by it. Some may classify me to be little.  I'm a female and proud of it.  I love my mom.  I love my dad.  I love my sister.  I love my brother.  I even love my dog even though he often shows me limited signs of affection. I love my friends too.  I am afraid of being kidnapped.  I clench my teeth when I'm stressed.   I am extremely emotional.  I worry a lot.  I take criticisms seriously.  I don't give my heart away easily, I only have one after all.  I want a really cool job when I grow up.  I think its best to treat others the way you wish to be treated, even if it doesn't always work out in your favor.  I can't wait for the day that I travel to Paris.  Some people who are really close to me live far away and that's never easy.  I wish my grandma was still alive so that I could have met her and so that my dad would have had a great mother like mine for a longer period of his life.  I try my best to not judge a book by its cover.  I am a terribly picky eater (sorry mom).   I can be as stubborn as a mule.  I am loyal to those I love.  I am extremely determined, and I hope this will get me where I want to go in life, wherever that is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure if any of this means anything, but right now its all I know.  My wish is for people take me as I am.  This is me.  Who are you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuhrZvQbz2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsXuuhPRkE0/s1600-h/1244922330953093.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuhrZvQbz2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsXuuhPRkE0/s320/1244922330953093.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397682243329838946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-1589695343244723271?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/1589695343244723271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/self-identification.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1589695343244723271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/1589695343244723271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/self-identification.html' title='Self Identification'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuhrZvQbz2I/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsXuuhPRkE0/s72-c/1244922330953093.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4186194609641484197</id><published>2009-10-26T18:12:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:48:53.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Magic Mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate, desires of our hearts.  You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you.  Ronald Weasly, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them.  However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge, nor truth.  Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible." - Albus Dumbledore on The Mirror of Erised, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuYt5WRw5II/AAAAAAAAADw/uIdpbKmST20/s1600-h/CP1389_HP_Mirror_of_Erised-I.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuYt5WRw5II/AAAAAAAAADw/uIdpbKmST20/s320/CP1389_HP_Mirror_of_Erised-I.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397051666705998978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today, I was listening to an audio book of Harry Potter and I couldn't help but have this section strike me.  It would seem so simple to be able to look into a mirror and have the contents of our heart's deepest desires reflect upon us.  I often wish that I knew what my heart really wanted but since there is no magical mirror that I know of, I guess I  have to leave it up to time to find the answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4186194609641484197?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4186194609641484197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/magic-mirror.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4186194609641484197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4186194609641484197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/magic-mirror.html' title='The Magic Mirror'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuYt5WRw5II/AAAAAAAAADw/uIdpbKmST20/s72-c/CP1389_HP_Mirror_of_Erised-I.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6359736795918971368</id><published>2009-10-25T18:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:49:57.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Forgotten Goal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I sometimes wonder if all of this hard work will pay off someday.  Every morning we get up, go to school, or go to work, work hard, socialize a little, come home, oh we can't forget to eat once in a while, and go to bed.  I'm not trying to say I hate this life we have created for ourselves because really I don't hate it at all.  I'm just wondering if anything will come from it in the long run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure what the future holds however I do have some ambitions.  I think most people do.  But there is one thing I feel people often neglect when it comes to their past, present, and future.  One specific element which is not tangible, but in my opinion, necessary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe you're different.  Maybe, you don't seek this one thing I find to be important.  What I have to say to you is, let go.  Let go for one second, and think about how your life would be without this one important element...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuTMJYg2KSI/AAAAAAAAADo/Jcpi0IlArH4/s1600-h/1242487158801795.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuTMJYg2KSI/AAAAAAAAADo/Jcpi0IlArH4/s320/1242487158801795.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396662715067803938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Keep your mind from hate, your mind from worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Live simply, expect little, give much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Fill your life with love.  Scatter sunshine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Forget self, think of others. Do as you would be done by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Its the way to happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Try it for a week and you will be surprised. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;- H.C Mattern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6359736795918971368?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6359736795918971368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/forgotten-goal.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6359736795918971368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6359736795918971368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/forgotten-goal.html' title='A Forgotten Goal'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuTMJYg2KSI/AAAAAAAAADo/Jcpi0IlArH4/s72-c/1242487158801795.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3127747859104733037</id><published>2009-10-24T11:39:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T21:03:05.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Far, Far Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Its never easy when someone you care about leaves your life in some kind of way.  Out of no where they seem to just pack their bags and take the red eye out of your life.  While they're off flying to a new exciting land, you however, feel stranded on a deserted island.  Its like you wake up in this whole other environment where nothing is familiar.  There is this sense of yearning deep within your heart because all you really want is for them to come back.  And then you look around, and you realize everything is different without them.  Something's missing, and all you want is for things to go back to they way they were.  The hardest part is realizing that things will always be different even if they do come back because the time that you needed them most, they weren't there for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And then there is this other part of you that feels selfish, because really you should be happy for the other person.  You feel like its good you weren't standing in their way.  And they're out there doing what they need to do, and that's good.  And even though you care about them, and you miss them, you know they're out there accomplishing what they need to accomplish.  And they're happy, and you're happy for them.  And really, all you want is the hope that everything will work out for the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I wish you were here.  I wish you the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuMpha26U4I/AAAAAAAAADg/DBzNnxE5nX8/s1600-h/1238906740382265.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuMpha26U4I/AAAAAAAAADg/DBzNnxE5nX8/s320/1238906740382265.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396202432642044802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3127747859104733037?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3127747859104733037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/far-far-away.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3127747859104733037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3127747859104733037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/far-far-away.html' title='Far, Far Away'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SuMpha26U4I/AAAAAAAAADg/DBzNnxE5nX8/s72-c/1238906740382265.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-3466221702911862705</id><published>2009-10-21T19:09:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:51:54.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tread Lightly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure how this whole thing came about, but I'm beginning to think its for the best.  There was a bit of doubt in my mind that I would do something to mess this up, but I miraculously managed to pull through.  I hope things keep going the way they are.  You seem to spark a light within me.  Is that possible?  Hopefully I can keep it together.  I would hate to ruin such a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St-kHq6uexI/AAAAAAAAADQ/JYAflcY5ozE/s1600-h/789297510.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St-kHq6uexI/AAAAAAAAADQ/JYAflcY5ozE/s320/789297510.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395211330299788050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-3466221702911862705?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/3466221702911862705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/tread-lightly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3466221702911862705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/3466221702911862705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/tread-lightly.html' title='Tread Lightly'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St-kHq6uexI/AAAAAAAAADQ/JYAflcY5ozE/s72-c/789297510.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-6022748751497921526</id><published>2009-10-19T21:00:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:52:22.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Illuminate the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure why you feel the way you do.  Trust me, if I could help you, I would.  I'm sorry you're upset.  I'm sorry things aren't going the way you hoped they would.  Is it impossible to think everything is going to change for the better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe you could try and see this experience as a glass half full type ordeal rather then one that is half empty.  Or maybe you could look at it like a jar full of fireflies. The whole idea of hope and prosperity for the future is like catching a firefly and holding it captive in a jar.  You might not be able to catch one right away, but eventually your hard work will pay off. When the night time comes along you will have a jar full of beauty, hope and light.   Just try and look at things for the better.  I know you are a firefly waiting to shine in the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St0PAimhyFI/AAAAAAAAACw/bqS4vhk759A/s1600-h/ist2_5614334-fireflies-in-a-jar-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St0PAimhyFI/AAAAAAAAACw/bqS4vhk759A/s320/ist2_5614334-fireflies-in-a-jar-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394484430622541906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"What are you going to do?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-6022748751497921526?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/6022748751497921526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/illuminate-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6022748751497921526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/6022748751497921526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/illuminate-world.html' title='Illuminate the World'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/St0PAimhyFI/AAAAAAAAACw/bqS4vhk759A/s72-c/ist2_5614334-fireflies-in-a-jar-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4697178710432490500</id><published>2009-10-13T10:31:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:52:52.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Got Mail</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino." - Joe Fox (Tom Hanks) You've Got Mail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StSyI54vUFI/AAAAAAAAACo/-Y5W0F-A3vQ/s1600-h/1245301171358174.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StSyI54vUFI/AAAAAAAAACo/-Y5W0F-A3vQ/s400/1245301171358174.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392130519916826706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4697178710432490500?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4697178710432490500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/whole-purpose-of-places-like-starbucks.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4697178710432490500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4697178710432490500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/whole-purpose-of-places-like-starbucks.html' title='You&apos;ve Got Mail'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StSyI54vUFI/AAAAAAAAACo/-Y5W0F-A3vQ/s72-c/1245301171358174.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-4176448745544516903</id><published>2009-10-12T14:45:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:53:52.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Practice Random Kindness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Isn't it unfortunate how we need opposites as a sense of distinguishing right from wrong, good from bad, and joy from pain.  I wish things could just be easy.  I wish they could make sense. You know, when you wake up in the morning and you know that everything is going to be alright.  You would know that the people in your life were there for good reasons, and not for poor reasons.  You would know that people were out there for the good, and you could trust them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Its sad how life isn't like this.  Individuals are cruel, unjust, liars, frauds, thieves, fools, and players.  Is it insane to wish that people could just be good, and do good?   Isn't that the point of life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StO8EpWVGgI/AAAAAAAAACA/CAt4K2SyNMs/s1600-h/1242687805902689.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StO8EpWVGgI/AAAAAAAAACA/CAt4K2SyNMs/s200/1242687805902689.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391859966897625602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I think that's what I feel we are here for.  Not because we were placed here by a higher individual- not to say that is absolutely impossible;  but maybe, just maybe, we are meant to be good people. Is that such a crazy thing to think?  Is it so impossible that as human beings we are simply expected to be good, do good and feel good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I want to look for the good in others.  I want to see the good in others.  As soon as I set out to do this however, I become naive, too kind, oblivious to life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;All I want is to know that there is some good out there.  I know there is, I just wish it wasn't so hard to find.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So help me out people.  Would it really kill you to do something good for once?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-4176448745544516903?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/4176448745544516903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/practice-random-kindness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4176448745544516903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/4176448745544516903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/practice-random-kindness.html' title='Practice Random Kindness'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/StO8EpWVGgI/AAAAAAAAACA/CAt4K2SyNMs/s72-c/1242687805902689.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2841000196309291262.post-5205341930107124568</id><published>2009-10-11T22:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T23:54:18.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unambiguous Result</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If only honesty weren't so painful, and it didn't have the ability to wrench your heart out of your chest. It’s like a contradictory lie, almost like reverse psychology because it has good intentions. Or does it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If only saying nothing spoke as much as saying something, because that nothing meant so much more then that something. Or did it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If only confusion could untangle itself from the beautiful mess it has become to reveal the most obvious answer. But that would be too simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And, if only, this need for honesty, nothingness, and confusion could result in an unambiguous result.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Wouldn’t that be lovely?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2841000196309291262-5205341930107124568?l=elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/feeds/5205341930107124568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/unambiguous-result.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5205341930107124568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2841000196309291262/posts/default/5205341930107124568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elementsofanotherperson.blogspot.com/2009/10/unambiguous-result.html' title='The Unambiguous Result'/><author><name>T Short</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17983577935305225353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U0fQplOufFI/SwX5wQlmz9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/KMQQjxR0zoI/S220/n600070132_9983.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
