<?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-8373937</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:19:39.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The darkness of the clouds has blinded me.</title><subtitle type='html'>Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. 

&lt;b&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/b&gt; </subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-113337307666870882</id><published>2005-11-30T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T09:51:16.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate my life.</title><content type='html'>It has been an interesting three months. I have managed to get my girlfriend pregnant, lose said girl to my alcoholism, and manage to screw up many friendships. I guess you could say I have it all now, right? Guess not. Is this what the American dream is supposed to be? No. I always thought growing up that by the time I was 23 I would have a nice 2 car garage, picket fences, and two kids. What the hell is wrong with me? That only happens in the movies, and even then it's not perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-113337307666870882?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/113337307666870882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=113337307666870882' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/113337307666870882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/113337307666870882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-hate-my-life.html' title='I hate my life.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-112726899942071908</id><published>2005-09-20T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T19:16:39.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damned Smoking</title><content type='html'>I had quite the interesting night Sunday. I was coughing blood, puking blood, and just generally not acting very well. I was sent to the hospital, and they found out that it was only an allergic reaction to cigarette smoking. (Asthmatic Bronchitis) They gave me an inhaler, and a prescription for some steroids. I do not plan to take the steroids. (Too many side effects) &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I do not really have a problem with this, only that I have to quit smoking. I never knew smoking could cause depression, pain, and who knows what else I am feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-112726899942071908?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112726899942071908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=112726899942071908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112726899942071908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112726899942071908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/09/damned-smoking.html' title='Damned Smoking'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-112432169075686979</id><published>2005-08-17T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T16:34:50.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two days of hell ...</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wow, these last two days at work have been hell. I swear, servers quitting all over the place. New virii popping up all over the place. When will it all end? I mean, don't get me wrong - the more computer problems users have, the more money I make. It's just hectic to keep up with all of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-112432169075686979?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112432169075686979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=112432169075686979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112432169075686979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112432169075686979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/two-days-of-hell.html' title='Two days of hell ...'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-112415014141087783</id><published>2005-08-15T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T16:55:41.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another long day at work.</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Yeah, yet another long day at work. A job that I love to hate. It really sucks when you work for a company, and they don't trust you at all. I guess that's what I get for working with a guy who does not trust a single person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Other than that, today hasn't been much to write home about. (Other than the fact that I ran out of smokes two hours ago, and I'm deadly cranky. :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-112415014141087783?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112415014141087783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=112415014141087783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112415014141087783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112415014141087783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/yet-another-long-day-at-work.html' title='Yet another long day at work.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-112405127850671469</id><published>2005-08-14T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T13:27:58.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time to move into a new realm.</title><content type='html'>Well, it looks like I may be leaving the nest soon. My best friend (Rudy) wants me to move in with him and the rest of the boys. I'm not really too sure if I want to do that - on the simple premise that all they do over there is drink, be obnoxious, and break things. I have finally got my life on the right track and I am not sure I want to follow down the wrong road again. I guess we'll see how this turns out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-112405127850671469?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112405127850671469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=112405127850671469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112405127850671469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112405127850671469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-time-to-move-into-new-realm.html' title='It&apos;s time to move into a new realm.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-112395628082841886</id><published>2005-08-13T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T11:04:40.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's muggy as hell ...</title><content type='html'>I can remember back in the winter when I wanted it to be so hot that I couldn't stand it. Well I got my wish. Now I wish it was sorta winter time - or at least fall. (Fall if my favorite time of year, it's so pretty.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-112395628082841886?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/112395628082841886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=112395628082841886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112395628082841886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/112395628082841886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-muggy-as-hell.html' title='It&apos;s muggy as hell ...'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-111569383614931200</id><published>2005-05-09T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T19:57:34.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's amazing how we fall.</title><content type='html'>I never understood the reasonings why things happen in this life. It's as if somebody is pulling the strings on my marionette and I'm just along for the ride. Tonight is just one of those nights that I wish somebody would just cut the strings and allow my body to fall to the floor - limp, and broken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-111569383614931200?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/111569383614931200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=111569383614931200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111569383614931200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111569383614931200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/05/its-amazing-how-we-fall.html' title='It&apos;s amazing how we fall.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-111492426735409439</id><published>2005-04-30T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T22:11:07.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Detached from reality.</title><content type='html'>I feel completely detached from any sense of reality - I'm depressed, moody, vulnerable, angered, and anguished. I wish I could explain why, maybe I am just fucked up? My girlfriend thinks I have a wish to be in prison - or maybe even a death wish. I really don't want any of that, it's just sometimes my head wants to do things that my body knows is all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I'm done ranting. Maybe I'll go to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-111492426735409439?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/111492426735409439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=111492426735409439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111492426735409439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111492426735409439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/04/detached-from-reality.html' title='Detached from reality.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-111440368712232915</id><published>2005-04-24T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T21:34:47.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile ... I know.</title><content type='html'>Yeah, it's been quite awhile since I updated my blog. I guess you could say that real life does call at times, and depression doesn't help much either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I am working at a computer store now - it's basically my dream job. I go into work whenever I feel like it, and do pretty much whatever I feel like doing. It's all on-site technical support/network engineering - not to mention plenty of FreeBSD troubleshooting/installations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's all for now - I simply wanted to give a quick update, since I haven't done so since sometime in Nov. '04.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rob S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-111440368712232915?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/111440368712232915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=111440368712232915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111440368712232915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/111440368712232915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2005/04/its-been-awhile-i-know.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile ... I know.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-110106803280291996</id><published>2004-11-21T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T12:13:52.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a few letters I will probably never send to her.</title><content type='html'>Names removed for obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Someone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	I am writing this letter in hopes that someday I will be able to muster up the heart to give it to you. As you know, I do not like beating a dead horse, and I know that telling you how I truly enjoy being with you, and how much I like you is just that: beating a dead horse. I am quite sure I could tell you until I am blue in the face how happy you make me, and how important your happiness is to me. I am even sure with this information it would not change anything at all between us. I know that the only thing that can really change anything between us is time or situations.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot even tell you how many people think that we would be perfect for each other, in the perfect timing. I assume today is not the perfect time, and tomorrow does not look good either. It hurts sometimes I guess. I know the pain is for the better, because if we are to be, we will be, and there is not much either of us can do about it. I apologize in advance for this letters twisting and turning through various subjects. It is not easy for me to get out my emotions in person, let alone on paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	I would also like to tell you how it is so hard sometimes to sit back and realize that we may never be anything more than just friends. I mean, I am OK with that, but it is not my favorite outcome. It would be a whole lot easier if you were just some run of the mill girl, but your not, you are the most special person I have ever met. You parents raised you properly, and that is so hard to find in people now. Not to mention the fact that you are such a sweetheart, I have never had that in anybody before, and I know it is so hard to find. The simple fact that you would go with me to Jim’s bedside - be willing to help me with my business, help me kick Vicodin, and help me sober up tells me that you are no ordinary girl. You are something more to me that I will probably never be able to explain to you, or any other person. I honestly do not think I can even explain it to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	I guess in closing I will say that I do not want you to take this to heart, or change your mind on any subjects because of this letter. This letter is a way to let you know how special you really are to me. It is too hard for me to tell you in person, simply because deep inside I am still a scared little child. I hope you can understand the feelings I am trying to get out in this letter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Someone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	As much as I hate to do this, I may need to go away for a while. It hurts too much to be around you right now. I thought I would be OK during all of this, but I guess I was wrong. The pain is unreal sometimes when I realize that I cannot have you. It is like a dream that I never awake from, a sick, bad dream. I of course know that I should not allow this to get to me, but I really cannot help it anymore. I have myself in too deep now to be able to change my feelings about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	Therefore, for now, I think I just need to be with nobody but myself. I am truly sorry; it is simply not my chosen path. I am also sorry for not being completely honest with you earlier; I really was hurting because of you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Do not hate me for this; I am sure I will probably feel better tomorrow. I just feel really badly right now, that is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS2: Thank you for the bear. I am sure it will help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, sucks to be me. Right? Thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-110106803280291996?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/110106803280291996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=110106803280291996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/110106803280291996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/110106803280291996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/just-few-letters-i-will-probably-never.html' title='Just a few letters I will probably never send to her.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-110004179299881172</id><published>2004-11-09T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T15:09:52.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The final sound.</title><content type='html'>To hear the final sound of a life less hopefull,&lt;br /&gt;The final bang, gasp, and sputter,&lt;br /&gt;Burnt out, and never fading away,&lt;br /&gt;On fire for her love, and never receiving it,&lt;br /&gt;The pain is deafening, too loud for screams,&lt;br /&gt;Never wanting to continue without her,&lt;br /&gt;Unable to continue with her,&lt;br /&gt;Confused, and tragic, the soul collapses under the stresses,&lt;br /&gt;Giving into pressure, he finally succumbs,&lt;br /&gt;While pulling the trigger to his own destiny, &lt;br /&gt;He realizes she is worth the worlds weight in gold,&lt;br /&gt;A treasure who he will never acquire,&lt;br /&gt;Destiny is fulfilled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-110004179299881172?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/110004179299881172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=110004179299881172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/110004179299881172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/110004179299881172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/final-sound.html' title='The final sound.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109995678330552732</id><published>2004-11-08T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T15:33:03.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slipping through my skin.</title><content type='html'>Here I sit with the gun to my head,&lt;br /&gt;I realize it's a cold end,&lt;br /&gt;We all wind up dead,&lt;br /&gt;Some just can't append,&lt;br /&gt;I feel it slipping away,&lt;br /&gt;Cold trigger in my mind,&lt;br /&gt;No more time to play,&lt;br /&gt;Letting go now, I unwind,&lt;br /&gt;It is your heart I wish to find,&lt;br /&gt;I need you more every day,&lt;br /&gt;Yet, you are so far from my mind,&lt;br /&gt;I need you more in every way,&lt;br /&gt;So now, for my last word,&lt;br /&gt;I must say,&lt;br /&gt;I am leaving with vision blurred,&lt;br /&gt;This price I must pay,&lt;br /&gt;The final demon I must slay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109995678330552732?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109995678330552732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109995678330552732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109995678330552732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109995678330552732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/slipping-through-my-skin.html' title='Slipping through my skin.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109969280953641674</id><published>2004-11-05T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T14:13:29.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got a long way to go.</title><content type='html'>I thought it would be easy to kick the habit. It is not at all easy. I am fighting demons that are following me, and attacking me at every corner. I cannot do this on my own, and my most loyal friends are helping me out. It seems that some of my other friends are selfish, greedy, assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms that I have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• restlessness &lt;br /&gt;• muscle pain &lt;br /&gt;• bone pain &lt;br /&gt;• insomnia &lt;br /&gt;• cold flashes &lt;br /&gt;• goose bumps &lt;br /&gt;• involuntary leg movements &lt;br /&gt;• watery eyes &lt;br /&gt;• runny nose &lt;br /&gt;• loss of appetite &lt;br /&gt;• irritability &lt;br /&gt;• panic &lt;br /&gt;• chills &lt;br /&gt;• sweating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it not simply great? You would not want to be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109969280953641674?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109969280953641674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109969280953641674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109969280953641674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109969280953641674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/ive-got-long-way-to-go.html' title='I&apos;ve got a long way to go.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109941332006942854</id><published>2004-11-02T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T08:35:20.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friends</title><content type='html'>Sometimes life is not the best. Sometimes life does not go your way. Other times you realize that even when things do not go your way – it still works out OK. Yesterday was one of the finest days that I have ever had hanging out with Leslie. I guess it was such a great day because I have finally accepted the fact that her and I may never date, but I am finally OK with that. I simply care about her so much that I could not imagine losing her as a friend. It would not be worth it to lose her in any way, shape, or form. She is such a great friend that I could never imagine being without her by my side in this life. I know, I sound like a sap – it is great though. I have never had such a great friend by my side. I know I am going off on a long lecture about her – sorry. It is just so great having a great friend like her. She is just one of those people that I can have fun with doing the dumbest of shit; for instance – playing in the leaves. I have not played in the leaves since I was much younger. It was actually a great feeling – I finally felt that the world was not so bad after all, and maybe I have a reason to carry on. The weirdest part about the whole thing was that it was not a feeling of love that I had for her; it was the deepest caring that I have ever felt for anyone. I just simply cannot explain it well enough. I am going to quit typing now – I am rambling. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109941332006942854?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109941332006942854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109941332006942854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109941332006942854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109941332006942854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/best-friends.html' title='Best Friends'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109933036016563337</id><published>2004-11-01T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T09:32:40.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile.</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been awhile since my last update. I guess it is because not too much in my life has changed. I am finally starting to mellow out again, and it is a good thing too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anything changes, I will let you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109933036016563337?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109933036016563337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109933036016563337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109933036016563337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109933036016563337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/11/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109856167113958850</id><published>2004-10-23T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-23T13:01:11.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Addiction.</title><content type='html'>It has finally become too much for me to take. I cannot accept this addiction anymore; it is too much to bear. I am no longer the person I once used to be, I cannot form any proper social relationships anymore, I cannot follow my own ambitions anymore, and I cannot realize my dreams. I am spiraling down a long shaft, without any walls to capture my emotions. I cannot seem to stop the spiral that ends in an inevitably abrupt stop. My decision is to accept the fact that I need professional help, it is not my first choice, but I feel it is the only choice. I cannot continue my life this way, I am falling apart, and the drugs are taking over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trapt - Enigma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we know how to get the message across &lt;br /&gt;We turn the lights off to find a way out &lt;br /&gt;No time to get through to grasp what was lost &lt;br /&gt;Don't turn the light off and leave me in the dark &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, I'm pleading, my soul is bleeding &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be left alone, not when I'm right next to you &lt;br /&gt;What are you thinking, it's so misleading &lt;br /&gt;Is it not for me to know, I think it's just hard for you to show &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never spoke in the words that we want &lt;br /&gt;We turn the lights off to find a way out &lt;br /&gt;We never chosen to keep what we've got &lt;br /&gt;Don't turn the light off and leave me in the dark &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hard for you to show &lt;br /&gt;Why is it hard for you to show? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes &lt;br /&gt;It never occurred to me that I am already asleep (in your arms) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be the one to be let go &lt;br /&gt;Don't be the one to be alone &lt;br /&gt;Don't be the one to be alone tonight &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey I'm pleading, my soul is bleeding &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be left alone, not when I'm right next to you &lt;br /&gt;What are you thinking, it's so misleading &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be left alone, I don't want to be left alone &lt;br /&gt;No one wants to be left alone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109856167113958850?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109856167113958850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109856167113958850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109856167113958850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109856167113958850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/addiction.html' title='Addiction.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109838800447710331</id><published>2004-10-21T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-21T13:11:08.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorrowful Disgrace.</title><content type='html'>I cannot even begin to explain how terrible I feel right now. I feel that my heart fell to the floor and broke a few floor tiles. I am trying so hard to forget the fact that I like this girl and just go on with my life realizing that she and I may never be anything more than just friends. I hate the feeling in my stomach right now, it is making me sick as hell, and I feel like I am going to lose my soft pretzel. I cannot change a damned thing about this situation, and it is one of the hardest damned things that I have ever done. I have had quite a few girls in my life that made me feel special, but nothing like this. She and I seem to be exactly alike, but we have so much that is different. I just wish I could drop these feelings, but as for right now, I guess it is not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ataris - &lt;br /&gt;"The Last Song I Will Ever Write About a Girl"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken heart again today...&lt;br /&gt;The flowers that I gave to you have withered all away.&lt;br /&gt;Just when I opened up my heart&lt;br /&gt;The one you used to love came and ripped it right apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I never seem to learn?&lt;br /&gt;That love is wrong and girls are fucking evil.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll never figure out&lt;br /&gt;What womankind is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard your voice again today&lt;br /&gt;I'm scarred by all the lies that were once promises you'd made.&lt;br /&gt;I lie in bed awake at night&lt;br /&gt;And wonder what went wrong or even more just what went right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109838800447710331?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109838800447710331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109838800447710331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109838800447710331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109838800447710331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/sorrowful-disgrace.html' title='Sorrowful Disgrace.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109821209980149861</id><published>2004-10-19T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T11:54:59.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a hillbilly.</title><content type='html'>I decided today would be a good day to go back to my West Virginian roots today. All I have to say is that I am wearing a Carhart jacket, John Deere hat, blue jeans, and a plain white tee. God, I love it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109821209980149861?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109821209980149861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109821209980149861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109821209980149861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109821209980149861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-am-hillbilly.html' title='I am a hillbilly.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109795908620247519</id><published>2004-10-16T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-16T13:38:06.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Terribly Confused, Moody, Depressed.</title><content type='html'>I have never understood why good things happen to bad people. I am so confused about this girl that it’s impossible to sort the emotions out in my head. One second I am so annoyed that I want to break, and the other I am so happy I could cry. I have never in my entire lifetime felt like this, and I have felt plenty of ways about females in my life. I just wish I could get a straight answer sometimes, and even that seems like too much to ask for from some people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109795908620247519?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109795908620247519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109795908620247519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109795908620247519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109795908620247519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/terribly-confused-moody-depressed.html' title='Terribly Confused, Moody, Depressed.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109769558069264624</id><published>2004-10-13T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T12:26:20.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory ...</title><content type='html'>The memory of a love lost is the strongest memory you will ever have. The memory comes through in surround sound, and technicolor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sugarcult - "Memory"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may never start.&lt;br /&gt;We could fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;And I'd be your memory.&lt;br /&gt;Lost your sense of fear.&lt;br /&gt;Feelings insincere.&lt;br /&gt;Can I be your memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to where we lasted.&lt;br /&gt;Just like I imagine.&lt;br /&gt;I could never feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to the disaster.&lt;br /&gt;My heart's beating faster.&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to feel the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may never start.&lt;br /&gt;I'll tear us apart.&lt;br /&gt;Can I be your enemy?&lt;br /&gt;Losing half a year.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for you here&lt;br /&gt;I'd be your anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to where we lasted.&lt;br /&gt;Just like I imagine.&lt;br /&gt;I could never feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to the disaster.&lt;br /&gt;My heart's beating faster.&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to feel the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may never start.&lt;br /&gt;Tearing out my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be your memory.&lt;br /&gt;Lost your sense of fear.&lt;br /&gt;(I'd be your memory)&lt;br /&gt;Feelings insincere.&lt;br /&gt;Can I be your memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to where we lasted.&lt;br /&gt;Just like I imagine.&lt;br /&gt;I could never feel this way.&lt;br /&gt;So get back, back, back to the disaster.&lt;br /&gt;My heart's beating faster.&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to feel the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may never start.&lt;br /&gt;We could fall apart&lt;br /&gt;And I'd be your memory.&lt;br /&gt;Lost your sense of fear.&lt;br /&gt;Feelings insincere.&lt;br /&gt;Can I be your memory?&lt;br /&gt;Can I be your memory?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109769558069264624?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109769558069264624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109769558069264624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109769558069264624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109769558069264624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/memory.html' title='Memory ...'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109733433497891343</id><published>2004-10-09T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-09T08:05:34.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few words about loss.</title><content type='html'>	I believe that we are all a little depressed in this sad existence we all like to call ‘life.’ It’s not a fact of just being sad; it’s more a fact of being disenchanted. The simple act of breathing is sometimes too much for some people to bear, and these people are the people you least expect. Most people expect that I am a happy soul, a person who is care-free, and willing to be the life of the party. I guess nobody can see through me anymore, I have created my own 'fake' person - the person I want to be. This man is the man that I cannot be when I am all alone, and nobody else is around to hear me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109733433497891343?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109733433497891343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109733433497891343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109733433497891343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109733433497891343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/few-words-about-loss.html' title='A few words about loss.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109724090217836068</id><published>2004-10-08T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T06:08:22.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>These Warm October Nights Creep In Again.</title><content type='html'>It never seems to fail. October rolls around and I magically get depressed because of the cold, gloomy weather. Sometimes this truly make me believe that I have much more wrong with me than even I believe. I live my life on my own personal emotional roller coaster, living each day from peak to drop to valley. In my mind I know I should quit getting so wrapped up and excited about things in my life well before I know how they may turn out. It’s like I’m always hoping that things will turn out the way I want them to turn, but I am so impatient sometimes that it will never work out. To make it worse, most things that I get my hopes up about are just pipe dreams, and I know that they will probably never turn out the way that they should. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellowcard "October Nights"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm October nights&lt;br /&gt;You came and cuddled next to me baby yeah yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;Our noses brushed so close&lt;br /&gt;I wished it was our souls&lt;br /&gt;Drifting off to sleep&lt;br /&gt;I could hear the little snores you made&lt;br /&gt;watching eyes shut tight&lt;br /&gt;Like doors to something sweeter where you rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tear me off a piece of blanket&lt;br /&gt;keep me warm and we can make it&lt;br /&gt;Here's my heart, I'll let you break it&lt;br /&gt;Touched your skin and I can't take it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light will creep in soon&lt;br /&gt;And I still haven't slept a wink baby yeah yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;I wish the sun would hide its head&lt;br /&gt;So I could watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;Wish the sun would hide its head,&lt;br /&gt;So I could watch you dream some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more &lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more girl&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you &lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more girl&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you dream some more&lt;br /&gt;I wanna watch you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tear me off a piece of blanket&lt;br /&gt;keep me warm and we can make it&lt;br /&gt;Here's my heart, I'll let you break it&lt;br /&gt;Touched your skiiiiiiiiiiin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109724090217836068?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109724090217836068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109724090217836068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109724090217836068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109724090217836068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/these-warm-october-nights-creep-in.html' title='These Warm October Nights Creep In Again.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109710762228370516</id><published>2004-10-06T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-06T17:07:02.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talked to 'an old friend.'</title><content type='html'>It's been quite awhile since I'd talked to my 'old friend' - I thought it had ended. I thought I would never speak to her again, and that it truly was the end this time. Sadly though, I believe it is the end ... after five years of good times, and bad times, I believe the tribulation has ended. I guess she &amp; I simply are not compatibly anymore - she's outgrown my maniacal, senseless, and retarded ramblings. I guess we’ll have to see how it plays out, and if it’s really true that we may have one last shot to make the friendship work. I’m hoping, and dreaming, because honestly, this really hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109710762228370516?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109710762228370516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109710762228370516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109710762228370516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109710762228370516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/talked-to-old-friend.html' title='Talked to &apos;an old friend.&apos;'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109693094598813348</id><published>2004-10-04T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T16:02:25.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Enclave . . . </title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here at the Enclave in downtown Willoughby with my friend Mike, it's kinda cool because I'm connected via WiFi ... Thanks again to Mike - He got the free WiFi USB adapter for me. It's great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the depression front -- I'm feeling a little better today, it's not as strong as it was yesterday; but, I'm sure it will come back. I will keep you posted as it progresses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109693094598813348?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109693094598813348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109693094598813348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109693094598813348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109693094598813348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/at-enclave.html' title='At the Enclave . . . '/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109683388327480245</id><published>2004-10-03T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-03T13:04:43.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do people think I am truly happy?</title><content type='html'>I never understood why people think I am truly happy inside. Is it a show that I put on for them, or am I just that good at hiding my emotions? All of my friends seem to think that I'm just a hardass, and that I don't have any feelings. It's all a lie. In reality I'm just a big softy who is so depressed that at times he doesn't want to be around anymore. Isn't life grand? Isn't bi-polar disorder so grand? No.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109683388327480245?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109683388327480245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109683388327480245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109683388327480245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109683388327480245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/10/why-do-people-think-i-am-truly-happy.html' title='Why do people think I am truly happy?'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109642729678646704</id><published>2004-09-28T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T20:08:16.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magically depressed again.</title><content type='html'>Here I sit - Depressed again. I guess I thought it was all clear with the ex-girlfriend, and it was OK to start thinking about her again. I was terribly wrong about all of that. Oh well, I am going to sleep, I can't think about this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Only One"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken this fragile thing now&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces&lt;br /&gt;And I've thrown my words all around&lt;br /&gt;But I can't, I can't give you a reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so broken up (so broken up)&lt;br /&gt;And I give up (I give up) &lt;br /&gt;I just want to tell you so you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do&lt;br /&gt;You are my only, my only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made my mistakes, let you down&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't hold on for too long&lt;br /&gt;Ran my whole life in the ground&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And something's breaking up (breaking up)&lt;br /&gt;I feel like giving up (like giving up)&lt;br /&gt;I won't walk out until you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there's just no one that gets me like you do&lt;br /&gt;You are my only my only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go so dishonestly&lt;br /&gt;Leave a note for you my only one&lt;br /&gt;And I know you can see right through me&lt;br /&gt;So let me go and you will find someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there's just no one, no one like you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only, my only one&lt;br /&gt;My only one&lt;br /&gt;My only one&lt;br /&gt;My only one&lt;br /&gt;You are my only, my only one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109642729678646704?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109642729678646704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109642729678646704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109642729678646704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109642729678646704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/09/magically-depressed-again.html' title='Magically depressed again.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109614758390500862</id><published>2004-09-25T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-25T14:27:07.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LMFAO ... I need A.A.</title><content type='html'>&lt;!-- START YOUTHINK.COM QUIZ RESULTS --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border=0 bgcolor=black cellspacing=2 cellpadding=10&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=white&gt;&lt;td align=center&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;font face=verdana,arial,helvetica size=2&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.youthink.com/quiz.asp?action=take&amp;quiz_id=687&gt;&lt;font color=#505A84&gt;Which drunk are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font color=#505A84 size=4&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're drunk like me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;p&gt;You're suave, sensual, can play the guitar like a mother effing right even after 40 oz of rum, you epitomise what drunkenness should be... &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.youthink.com/quiz.asp?action=take&amp;quiz_id=687&gt;&lt;img alt="Personality Test Results" border=0 src="http://www.youthink.com/quiz_images/quiz687outcome8.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align=center&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.youthink.com/quiz.asp?action=take&amp;quiz_id=687&gt;&lt;font face=verdana size=2 color=white&gt;&lt;b&gt;Click Here to Take This Quiz&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size=1 color=C0C0C0 face=verdana&gt;Brought to you by &lt;a href=http://www.youthink.com/quiz.asp&gt;&lt;font color=white&gt;YouThink.com&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt; quizzes and personality tests.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- END YOUTHINK.COM QUIZ RESULTS --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109614758390500862?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109614758390500862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109614758390500862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109614758390500862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109614758390500862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/09/lmfao-i-need-aa.html' title='LMFAO ... I need A.A.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109563996004160005</id><published>2004-09-19T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T17:26:00.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate it when the phone doesn't ring.</title><content type='html'>As pathetic as this may seem - I am actually upset that Emily didn't call me today. I guess I shouldn't be too upset, it's still early in the game, etc. I guess I just wish sometimes that I can speed up time and get to know her better so I can finally explain this feeling that I've got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, I get to talk to her tomorrow. I am going to cross my fingers and hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109563996004160005?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109563996004160005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109563996004160005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109563996004160005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109563996004160005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-hate-it-when-phone-doesnt-ring.html' title='I hate it when the phone doesn&apos;t ring.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8373937.post-109554271859246806</id><published>2004-09-18T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T14:25:18.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some people are just sick.</title><content type='html'>IP Relay services are intended to allow the hearing impaired the ability to communicate with phone users via the Internet. Unfortunately, &lt;a href="http://www.dslreports.com/forum/remark,11325027~mode=flat"&gt;kids are abusing&lt;/a&gt; the services, Nigerian scammers are using it as a &lt;a href="http://ip_relay_scams.aimoo.com/"&gt;new avenue of attack&lt;/a&gt; on the disabled, freeloaders are freeloading - and you're footing part of the bill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read more: &lt;a href="http://www.dslreports.com/shownews/54275"&gt;http://www.dslreports.com/shownews/54275&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really think some of these kids are sick and twisted. What sucks the most is that &lt;b&gt;I am paying for these stupid assed kids entertainment!&lt;/b&gt; I really think that the FCC needs to reform this system - to me, it's really no worse than a perfectly healthy teenager parking in the last handicapped spot. It's appaling, and if I have any ways of stopping this retarded shit you better believe I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8373937-109554271859246806?l=blindingcloud.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/feeds/109554271859246806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8373937&amp;postID=109554271859246806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109554271859246806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8373937/posts/default/109554271859246806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blindingcloud.blogspot.com/2004/09/some-people-are-just-sick.html' title='Some people are just sick.'/><author><name>Digital-Apex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17972859688631944103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/259/1744/320/digital.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
