<?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-25484031</id><updated>2012-02-15T22:49:09.532-08:00</updated><category term='Humor'/><category term='The Back of My Brain'/><category term='The Light'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Music'/><title type='text'>Breathing Under the Water</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-1262698353381885357</id><published>2007-04-23T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T15:26:21.749-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Dad, this one's for you...</title><content type='html'>So, my dad found out about my last blog about Steven... And he got kind of jealous. So dad... This one's for you.. Too bad it's not going to be solely about you though. No, it's about my family background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you think that I'm the weird one in the family, just know that all this randomness goes back to all four of my grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us start on my father's side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma is 4'11", but don't ever try messing with her because she'll either get you with her quick wit or she'll shove you up against the wall, shake her finger, and say "Don't you ever do that to me again young man (lady)!" Once she says that to you, or you witness it happening to someone else, you won't ever try it again. Just because you're bigger than her does not mean she still can't take you down. I'd like to think I got her feisty side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandpa is 6', he live in Arizona, and he sure can tell a story. Most of his stories aren't true, but they're funny. It's to the point now that I'm not really sure which stories are true anymore, but they're all great. He can carry on a story for the longest time and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was telling the truth... maybe he is... Well, he passed that one down to me too, I can make up random stories on the spot pretty well too.. not like him, but I'm getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for my dad, he makes up stories and messes with you, unless you're my grandma, and knows how to deal with us feisty women pretty well. We're kind of alike I guess....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over on my mother's side, which just happens to be on the left, we've got my grandma and grandpa. Those two are crazy enough that we don't even need to begin to go into how crazy that side of my family is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, my grandpa, who passed away a few years go, was halarious. He was always being such a smart aleck. I think he's the one that passed it onto my mother eventhough he always accused her of being the "smart aleck kid". He was a terrible driver and irony filled his life. Irony such as: The back liscence plate of the moter home he had read "CRSH" or, as we like to say, crash... we thought it was ironic seeing as how he was always running into things. Also, my grandpa was an electrician and yet, in his office, hung a single lightbulb from a wire. No fiture, just the wire and the lightbulb. My mom always chimed in about that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma has mellowed down through the years, but from what I hear she was a regular outside the box kind of girl. There's this story that I was told about my grandma a while ago that brought me to this conclusion and made me realize we're more alike than I though. Well, one sunday my grandma and grandpa were going to church. They decided to visit this church where is was only appropriate to wear long skirts or dresses and no makeup. So what does my grandma do you ask? Oh yes, she walks into church in her petal pushers and bright red lipstick looking like Lucielle Ball. Apparently she caused a stir. And I thought I was the first one in the family to offend religious people. Who knew that my grandma was the first... at least to my knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you know my mom, you understand that I'm kind of like her clone, just younger. We look that same, act the same, use the same handmotions when we're saying the same words. We've got the same sounding voice, and we don't even have to finish two-thirds of our sentances to understand what the other is saying, leaving my dad just sitting there for a few moments until it processes that we didn't say one complete sentance in the whole conversation and  that he has no idea what we're talking about. I love my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go, if you ever wondered where all my craziness came from, it was those guys. My crazy grandparents, forever keeping me entertained with stories, wit, and, every so often, a good, brutal beat down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-1262698353381885357?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/1262698353381885357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=1262698353381885357' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/1262698353381885357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/1262698353381885357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/04/dad-this-ones-for-you.html' title='Dad, this one&apos;s for you...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-5316109625742742295</id><published>2007-04-16T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T20:30:16.960-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>My Visual DNA</title><content type='html'>I saw this on Tom's blog. I loved it. Here's a little more into my personality if you havn't picked up on it yet. Hopefully this will get me back into blogging. Enjoy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed name="widget" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" align="middle" src="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/swf/widget.swf" width="340" height="240" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="never" allownetworking="internal" enablejavascript="false" quality="best" bgcolor="#4A024C" flashvars="bgcolor=#4A024C&amp;i1=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_7ABFFADA.jpeg&amp;amp;c1=MY art is unconventional and out of the norm.&amp;i2=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-630463AC.jpeg&amp;amp;c2=My music is loud and dynamic&amp;i3=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-3246D42F.jpeg&amp;amp;c3=I love clothes.. buying, wearing, and designing..&amp;i4=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-1CC3FA29.jpeg&amp;amp;c4=Freedom comes out of love. &amp;i5=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-7C115110.jpeg&amp;amp;c5=Hairy.. ewww...&amp;i6=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-5D5D2679.jpeg&amp;amp;c6=Touch is my love language..&amp;i7=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-2ED3857.jpeg&amp;amp;c7=Coffee is my addiction... &amp;i8=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-E26BA3F.jpeg&amp;amp;c8=Its clean, modern, and fresh, ready for colors.&amp;i9=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_631B702E.jpeg&amp;amp;c9=I love the feeling of sand on my feet.&amp;i10=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-79837A73.jpeg&amp;amp;c10=Loud music and concerts are love.&amp;i11=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-2D00D6DF.jpeg&amp;amp;c11=Europe is my dream place. I would love to live there.. or visit.&amp;i12=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_1D28CE3C.jpeg&amp;amp;c12=Coffee... again.. my addiction. i love it and hate it.&amp;i13=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_4F9C0EDC.jpeg&amp;amp;c13=I love the ocean, it remind me of the Creator.&amp;moodlabel=SOFISTICAT&amp;amp;lovelabel=TOUCHY FEELY&amp;funlabel=ESCAPE ARTIST&amp;amp;habitslabel=BACK TO BASICS&amp;uid=212665-f0c1&amp;amp;srv=iwebhd6"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: rgb(150,150,150) 1px solid; MARGIN-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FONT-SIZE: 11px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; WIDTH: 340px; PADDING-TOP: 5px; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; HEIGHT: 25px; BACKGROUND-COLOR: rgb(0,0,0); TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)" href="http://networking.imagini.blueorange.co.uk/vdna.php?uid=212665-f0c1&amp;amp;srv=iwebhd6"&gt;Read my VisualDNA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;color:#cccccc;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255)" href="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/"&gt;Get your own VisualDNA™&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-5316109625742742295?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/5316109625742742295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=5316109625742742295' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5316109625742742295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5316109625742742295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-visual-dna.html' title='My Visual DNA'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-4565471556968453634</id><published>2007-02-14T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T23:05:43.105-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Warrior Poet</title><content type='html'>So as I was looking down the list of posts that I have written, I was reminded of a certain post that got special attention from my readers.. The comments recieved from this post were only relevant to one sentance out of a few paragraphs, but it was enough for you all to fight over the life of one young boy. Seeing how popular this subject seems, I have decided (with concent) to write a bit about Steven. Ha, oh yes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just begin this with the thought that I am not the girl that writes a boy's name all over her notebook in class. BUT I am the kind of girl who will take it a step further by writing a blog, knowing it will make everyone feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, including myself, but also know that I am not writing this solely for that purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so let's talk about Steven. (You may start to think of your life threatening comments now Tom.) I think I'm just going to let you know a bit about him first. His middle name is Clarence, but he doesn't like it much. I find it to be cute, but you can't really trust my opinion because I just think he's cute all around... Alright, well anyways, he's got this big dog that looks like a bear but he's so cute and his name is Rusty. He has a twin brother that looks nothing like him, so much so that I asked to see their drivers liscenses when I first met them. He's tall and his hair is naturally this sweet reddish brown color. His eyes are a really really dark green, but you wouldn't know it unless you really looked at them. He has a very kind heart and is actually very sensative, which says nothing about his manliness eventhough many people in our culture might disagree with me (they just need to listen to Bradley Hathaway). He always tries to get me to sing in the car, unsucessfully I might add. He loves to longboard and skateboard and snowboard but NOT wakeboard. He's a very picky eater and one of the only kids I know that doesn't like macaroni and cheese. His car smells really good. He smells really good. He's got man hands, A.K.A. big and rough and strong. He's a skinny little boy, yet muscular. He loves reggae music and likes to talk about the Marley's. He hardcore danced at the Dear Whoever show (WOOOOOOO!!!!!). He randomly makes loud birdcalls. He likes coffee. He's completely witty and can shut people down very easily. He likes the Postal Service (band). He loves Johnny Depp in Blow or even just in general and wants tattoos like Brad Pitt in some movie... I forget which one. He's a lot like my dad in the things that he does and in his giftings. He loves Jesus tremendously. He's an excellent dancer. He lets me punch him, and he is a very very cute boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that I have told you a bit about this new boyfriend of mine, I'm going to let you leave whatever comments about him that you please. Just know that I think he's gotten the hints (and blantent warnings) that he will be taken out if need be, so remember folks, let's make him crystal. Remember the water?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-4565471556968453634?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/4565471556968453634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=4565471556968453634' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/4565471556968453634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/4565471556968453634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/02/warrior-poet.html' title='Warrior Poet'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-7742607311192711927</id><published>2007-02-07T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T22:19:08.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Dreaming in Color</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Brother, Oh Brother, keep dreaming in colors&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;and then open your eyes to see the sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;There are waters to sail, there are waters to sail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Brother, Oh Brother, keep dreaming in colors&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;and don't worry about their doctrines and dogmas&lt;br /&gt;and timelines of when this world will end.&lt;br /&gt;Cause they're wrong, cause they're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Just believe, just believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And be patient my friend, love will find you.&lt;br /&gt;Just be patient my friend, until love finds you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Don't entertain thoughts that you're anything other than loved.&lt;br /&gt;Cause you've been created to be loved and to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Brother, Oh Brother, keep dreaming in colors&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;and then open your eyes to see the moon shine&lt;br /&gt;and don't forget you're alive. Don't forget you're alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And be patient my friend, love will find you.&lt;br /&gt;Just be patient my friend, until love finds you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Don't entertain thoughts that you're anything other than loved.&lt;br /&gt;Cause you've been created to be loved and to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be loved and to love,&lt;br /&gt;To be loved and to love,&lt;br /&gt;To be loved and to love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And be patient my friend, love will find you.&lt;br /&gt;Just be patient my friend, until love finds you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Don't entertain thoughts that you're anything other than loved.&lt;br /&gt;Cause you've been created to be loved and to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be loved and to love,&lt;br /&gt;To be loved and to love,&lt;br /&gt;To be loved and to love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Dreaming In Color"&lt;/em&gt; Damion Suomi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-7742607311192711927?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/7742607311192711927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=7742607311192711927' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/7742607311192711927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/7742607311192711927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/02/dreaming-in-color.html' title='Dreaming in Color'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-2567600008556995662</id><published>2007-01-24T17:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:48:11.566-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>To Write Love On Her Arms</title><content type='html'>So, it's good to be back everyone... Alright, now down to business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About six months ago I was looking for bands and I came across these guys Between the Trees. They've got some good tunes, but that's not the point. While I was looking around their website I noticed a link to something called "To Write Love On Her Arms". I thought it was just another band with a sweet name so I clicked and found out that it's actually an organization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, TWLOHA is an organization that thinks suicide prevention is possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing started with this girl who was on the verge of suicide. She was depressed, drugged, and a cutter. A few people decided to take her in and help her out. They sat with her singing worship songs day and night while she went through detox and everything else she was dealing with. They prayed with her and to make the story short, she's living right now. (the full story can be found at &lt;a href="http://twloha.com/the_story.php"&gt;http://twloha.com/the_story.php&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through this experience they decided they wanted to start an organization for suicide prevention eventhough many people told them suicide prevention was an impossible. They believe that love can save a person and push back the darkness surrounding them. They're right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://twloha.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://twloha.com/static/twloha_banner_02.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. so a bit short this time, but I don't think it needs much more explaining. I just thought you would be interested to know that part of this generation is ready to make a change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-2567600008556995662?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/2567600008556995662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=2567600008556995662' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/2567600008556995662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/2567600008556995662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/01/to-write-love-on-her-arms.html' title='To Write Love On Her Arms'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-5820612341805239507</id><published>2007-01-12T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:07:34.940-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Light'/><title type='text'>Draft #6</title><content type='html'>Five Drafts and I'm determined to not let this be the sixth. I read through the others and it seems as though they were posts for the moment. So lets do a post for January 12th, 2007. First of the new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007... This is going to be such a good year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm expecting to learn new things of the Spirit this year. For some reason the this next years looks very bright to me. It's like I see a calendar with all the seasons and months and each season seems to glow and radiate. I'm hoping that's how it's going to be because that would be amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been the best winter I've ever had I think. I always hate the winter because it's so cold and icy and eventhough I'm always with my family during the holidays, I've always felt like I was by myself for some reason. This one was different. This year my winter started off with a pretty boy who has turned out to be one of my best friends. Christmas was spent with cousins that I havn't seen in years but love dearly. Two of them moved here a couple of weeks ago actually, I think the last time we saw them was about 15 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;Another plus, Fall quarter is finally over and Winter Quarter is so much fun. My classes are great and I love my teachers. But even with all of this, I'm definately looking forward to Spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I'm very excited for spring to be here. It'll be warm again and the flowers will be blooming and it'll be bright and sunny outside and we'll have to wear sunglasses! I'm going to graduate highschool and college with my AA degree. Life will be good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is going to be so much fun because I'll be hanging out with my friends and working and that's about it. Summer is always the funnest though, that never changes so I'm not surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall is going to be a bit interesting because I have no idea what I'll do yet. Probably just work some more, save some money and whatnot. It'll be fun, but I'm interested to see what exactly I'll be doing. I'm kind of nervous but God has it all planned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter will be different. That's all I know. It's going to be very different...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, so there's my forecast for the year. Sunny days with a few thunderstorms, but don't worry, it's just a little rain...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-5820612341805239507?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/5820612341805239507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=5820612341805239507' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5820612341805239507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5820612341805239507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2007/01/draft-6.html' title='Draft #6'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-5252679120859630653</id><published>2006-11-20T21:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:49:36.073-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Moshers... pffft....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6911/3110/1600/706610/5123908_m[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6911/3110/320/794855/5123908_m%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah.. I mosh for Jesus. Actually, I don't mosh at all. I just dance ("in the zone, in a trance"). It's true. I am a dancer. None of this "let's take ballet and show how pretty we are" dancing. No no, none of that. I mean, I could if i wanted to and I have no problem with ballet, but if you understand what dancing means to be, you'd know that ballet just isn't my thing.&lt;br /&gt;First off, I know I've probably posted something like this before at some point in time, but that's ok. I enjoy this kind of thing. Letting a bit of my heart to show is ok everyone once in a while right? ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, to understand why I'm not ballerina you must first know that I cannot listen to K-Love or any other contemporary Christian music for more than 5 minutes. Honestly, I feel as though I am ready to combust. I love Jesus with everything I have and I just don't feel like I can full express that in a beautiful melody of "I love you Jesus" with the music all quite like and the drums practically non-existant. And yes, I used to listen to that music, but it's been a while. I don't even go for the "alternative" Christian bands, because they give Christian rock a bad name. Sorry guys, but it's almost as bad as K-Love to me. Instead, I choose to rely upon Underoath, Blindside, Dear Whoever, Upon Beauty Rests, Showbread, Emery, and Flyleaf for all my Christian music needs. They fuel me. True worship to me is all out, and at the end, you should have no energy left. It's a true sacrifice. Sweaty, uncut worship is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My first experience with this was Blindside. They wrote the song called "About a Burning Fire". I had listened to it many times and it was my worship music there for about 2 months but I never fully appreciated it until I watched the DVD. It was that last song and I had already wanted to see them live just because they put on an amazing show, but "About a Burning Fire" pushed them over the top. The song was good until the very end. Then it got very soft and quiet, much like on the cd, but this time there was something different. All of the band members, excluding the drummer, turned their backs to the crowd, closed their eyes, and started to worship. The singer started to sing, "I thought about a burning fire, I thought about a loving fire, I thought about Your love... I thought about Your love." And then the stage looked like it was going to explode with passion. It reminded me of dancing at church and how much energy it takes and how much I really don't care that I feel like I'm going to pass out because the thing that is driving me is so passionate that I don't want to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next experience I had was with Underoath. They're hardcore and very energetic, but the thing that got me the most was their soft song. It's called "Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape." It's all about the grace of God and mercy and love. My favorite lines are "Hey unfaithful I will teach you to be stronger. Hey ungraceful I will teach you to forgive one another. Hey unloving I will love you, I will love you." It's beautiful and the first time I listened to it I may have cried... but shhh... don't tell anyone. I only cried because of the end. It builds up to a point and then just stops and he sings "Jesus, I'm ready to come.. HOME!" And then he screams and it's amazing and I love the passion exuded through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last encounter that I will tell you, that actually ties into the beginning, is of a show that I went to on saturday. Dear Whoever, Upon Beauty Rests, and Bright Lit City. Three really good christian bands, one spiritually dark bar, and my best friends. So, two out of three ain't bad I guess.. I was actually getting sick to my stomach just sitting in that place waiting for the bands to start, but I knew it woud be worth it. Oh yes, it was definately worth it. As soon as the first band started, it seemed like the atmosphere completely changed and the place was totally cleaned out (spiritually). They were good, but I just sat back and watched the hardcore kids dance. Then It was Upon Beauty Rests. They had beautiful music but again, I just watched eventhough they played my most favorite song of theirs. The kicker was Dear Whoever. They enchanted me. Me and my friends went straight to the stage in front of the circle pit and proceeded to dance to the music. It was amazing, I was so fatigued but energized afterwards. It was crazy. It was my first time participating at a concert like that and now I understand why. So much passion, fun, excitement... It was one of the funnest things I've ever done. To make it even better, "We Cry Mercy" was the last song and everyone went nuts. I have bruises and I'm very proud of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-5252679120859630653?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/5252679120859630653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=5252679120859630653' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5252679120859630653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/5252679120859630653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/11/moshers-pffft.html' title='Moshers... pffft....'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116311340225877987</id><published>2006-11-09T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:51:27.053-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Alarm Clocks</title><content type='html'>"Wake up! Wake up! My God! This is NOT a test!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to just walk by. At school, I don't normally stop to talk, I don't say "hello" to people I recognize, I just walk by. I don't speak, I don't smile, I just walk in a half asleep daze. I see hundreds of people everyday and I just walk by, usually with my headphones in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and it's not to late to come clean. Get it off your chest. So steady your hand before your face and concentrate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A song that is usually playing on repeat on my way to classes wouldn't be liked among most people, but I enjoy it. No one can hear it though. Only me, in my remote little world, walking from building to building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's got to be some stable ground left to walk on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I was willing, no one makes eye contact, no one else smiles. They look down at the ground, through their dark sunglasses, that they’re walking on, knowing that it will hold them up. They too have a dazed look on their face. I'm not sure what their excuse is though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So tear another page from the book. Are you asleep or just alone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ready to learn, ready to leave. Either one is dangerous in this place. The mind is pliable, but only to a point. Once it reaches a certain point, something will snap. Some go insane. Not the institutionalized crazy though, no. This kind is socially accepted, taught in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Clear this room from your lungs, and pull yourself together man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong, whether they know it or not. Some know, they were taught young, but the pressure against is too strong. They fall to the ground, knocked unconscious. Their world gone black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On your back, you're sleeping in a bed of shame. Let the light breathe some new life into this room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have no idea what they just missed, but I do. It's contagious and addictive, but they don't know that yet. Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's what keeps you coming back, made up of insatiable taste."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until they find it, despair will be their only friend. Nothing will be right, nothing will ever change, they will never see the light of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bury your head in your hands and sink into yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see these people everyday. I walk past them everyday. I hear them everyday. It's their choice to look away and keep walking. I know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just what are you so afraid of? What are you so afraid of?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They know it, I know it. Something holds them back. EVERYTHING holds them back. We all know what's right, but no one says anything of it. No one, not even I. I just walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're staring truth in the face, so come on down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's ignored. Passed away in the day to day. Only a select few choose to really see but not even they inform the others. No one chooses the position of the spokesperson. They just walk and only talk to those they know. They say things that aren't true. It's the insanity poking through the exterior. I told you this place makes people crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're busy living life now, aren't you? No. You're busy making vows. You're coming unglued."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the remedy for this sickness, I just choose not to share it. I choose to be silent when I should be loud. Who knows how long I've wasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Time is shorter than you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to walk between buildings staring at people who shield their eyes. The sunglasses keep them isolated from the world. It keeps them dead and in the dark. It blocks their vision. They can't even see what's really around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know the light is blinding to the naked eye, so why don't you take steps away from being alone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if they wanted to take them off, they feel they've missed the opportunity. Keep them on, they don't want to look at what they think they've missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I swear it's not too late for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will remove the sunglasses? Not I. I'm still walking. Remember? But I know the One that can. Yes, He removed mine as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's all worth reaching for the hand to pull you out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will they ask? No, they're still unconscious on the floor, wrapped in what they know. They don't understand that this time it's the real thing. They need to see what's coming. As I walk by, I want to scream. I hear the screaming through my headphones. I hear the words I want to say coming through the speakers. Screaming through the speakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! And step outside your box! Wake up! Wake up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=1350468530"&gt;Underoath- In regards to myself&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=1350468530&amp;amp;type=video"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.addToProfileConfirm&amp;videoid=1350468530&amp;amp;title=Underoath-"&gt;Add to My Profile&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.home"&gt;More Videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116311340225877987?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116311340225877987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116311340225877987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116311340225877987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116311340225877987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/11/alarm-clocks.html' title='Alarm Clocks'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116295175595965825</id><published>2006-11-07T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:51:54.011-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>The National Language</title><content type='html'>I've come to realize that I love to write. I actually enjoy writing papers and analyzing random things and adding in my opinion in a sly dog sort of way. It's the reading that I hate. I find most "literary works" to be very boring and dry, but give me a satire and I'm entertained for days to come. I also realized that I love to write satire. Even in dry, factual papers I like to bring my own style to things, often using an underlying mocking tone that most people wouldn't even catch but I put it in anyways for my own personal enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I actually got to write a satire paper for an assignment. It was probably the funnest thing I've ever written, and it was stinking halarious if I do say so myself. It was all about the reparations that were still being demanded for the black slavery in the south before the civil war. Yes, I had many things to say about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(By the way, if you didn't know, how satire works is basically a form of mocking something. You pretend that you're all for something in the beginning and you must be very convincing, but once you're nearing the end you come up with some absurd proposal that the reader should be completely appalled by but you must try to back yourself up in this proposal telling how helpful it will be and so on and so forth. They are very fun to write, let me tell you...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm not going to post the actual paper because there WILL be someone who gets offended by it because that's the purpose yet some just won't understand and they will think I'm bashing on them (which I am, but not for reals cause it was for school...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's how it went down. In the beginning, I wrote that I was white (which I am) and that I was thoroughly fired up at the bad things that have been done to many black people today (in reguards to slavery). I went on about this for about a page and a half and then I moved on to my proposal to fix this wrong doing.. Oh yes... it get's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I proposed that all white people become the slaves of the descendants of the early black slaves in America and that basically the slave holders could do whatever they wanted to their slaves.. I also went into detail with this but I'll spare you the brutalness.. I wrote that this slavery would put an end to obesity because all of the white people would be underfed and over worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it was grusome and I loved writing it. I'd love to write more stuff like this, but I'd probably get in trouble. And eventhough I've grown accustom to getting in trouble for things I write, I think I'll wait just a bit longer before my next one... I think I'll write it on our new national language... or maybe not..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116295175595965825?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116295175595965825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116295175595965825' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116295175595965825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116295175595965825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/11/national-language.html' title='The National Language'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116286708303345532</id><published>2006-11-06T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:50:32.232-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Darn Gobshites...</title><content type='html'>Global Social Problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that sound like fun? Seriously.... Yeah, I didn't think it sounded like fun when I first signed up for this class. Actually, I didn't think it sounded like fun for the first 5 weeks of the class. this all changed when I started to actually pay attention and listen to what was being said. I, personally, was shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of what is said in my class comes from the students. The majority of those outspoken students are probably in their mid-thirties and older and they have to be some of the dumbest people I have ever heard in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not mean to criticize, but rather to include you in my humorous situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I am privy to... A class of outspoken idiots. My favorite so far has been the discussion we had on disabled people and how they are mistreated by the government and society. Actually, all of our discussions are about how a certain people group are mistreated by the government and society, it's awsome. But this one particular day we were talking about the disabled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The class was pretty normal for the first half, you know, the usual problems were told, and then we got to disabled people having children. I thought that it would be one of the regular topics where one person gets all fired up over nothing and then the class goes on. Well, I was halfway right. When the teacher mentioned something about the government taking children away from mentally disabled parents, those over thirty outspoken gobshites in the front of the room were in an uproar.. why? I don't know. I heard brief mention of the feelings of the disabled people and their want for children, but never once did I hear the other view argued. No one once mentioned that the parents of the children who were taken away or the people that are not allowed to have children because of their physical condition usually can't even take care of themselves. Not one person said anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is usually how it goes in that class. I think there's a sign on the door that I missed that says "Leave all common sense at the door.." No matter the dicussion, those same people get mad over the lamest things without even thinking of when they're really saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I usually end up doing is sitting quietly in the back of the room half chuckling to myself at the heinous things being said. I've found that If I'm quiet for most of the quarter, then when I do say something, people will be shocked because they never knew something so loud could come out of my mouth and then they will actually listen to it. I've done this a few times before and usually the entire room goes dead silent. I seem to have that effect on most of my classes. No one expects quiet little Emily in the back of the room to come out and blatently the entire class that nothing that is being said has any sense whatsoever. I only do it every so often when the time really calls for it. I find it to be entertaining. It's like watching those court shows on TV. Everyone is arguing over something stupid and then the judge all of the sudden tells them the reality that they are being stupid and saying stupid things and everything gets silent for about 30 seconds. After those 30 seconds they start in on the next item up for bid and the circle continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand how someone can take an issue that is so black and white and in your face and turn it into a whole big ordeal to the point that all forms of reasoning has left them. It's another one of those mysteries of life I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless America, a place where people can voice their stupid opinions and help Emily stay awake in class one more day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116286708303345532?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116286708303345532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116286708303345532' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116286708303345532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116286708303345532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/11/darn-gobshites.html' title='Darn Gobshites...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116157854676108258</id><published>2006-10-22T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:52:32.286-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Beauty Box</title><content type='html'>I've realized that I have this weird standard for beauty. It's not high, nor is it low, it's just kind of awkward. Like, the things and people I find beautiful are not the normal prom king and queen of the highschool. They're usually the people that when someone says "they're beautiful" everyone is kind of thrown off because no one has put this kind of beauty into their "beauty boxes" before. Ha, you find a new box every day. Anyways, I didn't so much expand my "beauty box" but more shift it's focus. Let me give some examples and then you'll understand fully what I mean. (by the way, I tried to put pictures up but they wouldn't load so I decided on videos instead.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example #1:&lt;br /&gt;Ever heard of Showbread? Well, they're a pretty cool band that I listen to. It's true. I talk a lot abou the music I listen to because music has encompassed almost every part of my life. Not in the form of me playing it, but more me listening. Mmhmm. Back to beauty. Josh Dies is the vocalist of this band. Basically, he's in my beauty box. Watch the video below with an open mind and don't make fun of me (or him) too much. He's the white guy with a telephone and shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=916802031"&gt;Showbread - Oh! Emetaphobia!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=916802031&amp;amp;type=video"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.addToProfileConfirm&amp;videoid=916802031&amp;amp;title=Showbread"&gt;Add to My Profile&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.home"&gt;More Videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example #2:&lt;br /&gt;Here's with more music. Christian Lindskog of Blindside... Into the Box he goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=1305695167"&gt;Blindside - All of Us&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=1305695167&amp;amp;type=video"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.addToProfileConfirm&amp;videoid=1305695167&amp;amp;title=Blindside"&gt;Add to My Profile&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.home"&gt;More Videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example #3:&lt;br /&gt;Any indie girl. I think girl that are Indie are completely cute. I love it so much. BEAUTY BOX! HOORAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example #4:&lt;br /&gt;The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Yeah, they're their own sentance. They deserve it. They are all beauties, but especially Ronnie Winter (lead vocals). He's basically amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=1306945886"&gt;Face Down - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=1306945886&amp;amp;type=video"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.addToProfileConfirm&amp;videoid=1306945886&amp;amp;title=Face"&gt;Add to My Profile&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.home"&gt;More Videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I think I have given ample proof of my misshapen box. But honestly, I think my box looks better than yours. I guess that's just how my perception of beauty goes. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116157854676108258?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116157854676108258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116157854676108258' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116157854676108258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116157854676108258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/10/beauty-box.html' title='Beauty Box'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116157537998183878</id><published>2006-10-22T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:08:50.624-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Oh! Blessed Technology!</title><content type='html'>Friday night was the night. Yes, it was friday that I got onto my computor after a weird day and proceeded to write a blog. It was a good blog, the story type. Fictional, you should know. It was beautiful and ugly and sad and happy all in one, paradoxical and all. I was so proud of this little story and was very excited about posting it. At the top of it, I had put in a music player. When I went to post this sucker, it gave an error message and said there was something wrong with the code for the music player. So I go to erase it and I notice that when I got the error message, my beautiful story had been erased. Yes, it's true. It is no more. Instead I typed out the key points and phrases I used so I can rewrite it later when I am inspired to do so. This time I'll type it on a Word document so I will not be overtaken by the Oh! Blessed Technology! But allow me to give a preview of this blessed event... which does not include birth of any kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the words of Dane Cook "Let's Tarantino it." You've just been drop kicked by the goalie of Manchester United. Let's go back and find out why you were drop kicked by the goalie of Manchester United. You're walking down the street. The sky grows dark and it begins to rain. You thought you'd would've made it home to beat the weather. You didn't."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116157537998183878?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116157537998183878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116157537998183878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116157537998183878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116157537998183878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/10/oh-blessed-technology.html' title='Oh! Blessed Technology!'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116016986575069838</id><published>2006-10-06T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:53:23.251-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>An Abstract Being</title><content type='html'>Let's be straight forward today. I'm diggin' this whole growing up thing. I find it to be rather obnoxious. Can't I just skip to Jesus? That'd be a whole lot easier and way more enjoyable. And who came up with this weather? It's overcast but still sunny and the clouds are white. Why can't the weather make up its mind? Either be sunny, or rainy. If it's going to be overcast there needs to be dark clouds. This inbetween stuff gets me into a funk. I don't want to do my homework, nothing sounds interesting... I seem to be in a place of discontentment and I'm not sure what I want that would make me content. This weather.... not funny God.... not funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that I say things like that all the time. Yeah, it's because God likes to do things that just make my life halarious. Seriously, He's a witty one, very clever.... very clever. When something ironic happens I always look up and say "yeah, good one... you're halarious." It used to only be when I was with my best friend but I've noticed myself doing that in the middle of a conversation at school and everyone around me just kind of looks at me and I respond with "What? God likes to make my life halarious. I just thought I'd let him know that I noticed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of that had anything to do with anything. Abstract thoughts. Wow. Seriously, this weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the up side, I'm going to see Employee of the Month later on after watching Gilmore Girls with my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I think I'll write about her right now. Ok, so I have this friend and she's halarious and witty and just like me down to the music we like and the words that we say. I'm really not sure what I'd do without her. She keeps me in check, she laughs at my jokes, she understands my humor, she listens to all the same weird bands that I listen to, she helps me get through those awkward moments when you just want to run away and hide becuase you just feel weird, she's amazing. We watch Gilmore Girls together, we do everything together. Not literally everything, but you get the point. Thank you God for putting her on the earth, otherwise I wouldn't have anyone to finish my sentances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and goodnight ladies and gentlemen. That is my blog of abstractness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116016986575069838?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116016986575069838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116016986575069838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116016986575069838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116016986575069838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/10/abstract-being.html' title='An Abstract Being'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-116002669668769765</id><published>2006-10-04T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:54:09.964-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Seventeen Ain't So Sweet...</title><content type='html'>Ok guys, the other day I was completely awkstruck because I was listening to one of my most favorite bands, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, on the internet and I noticed that they had a new song up. Being the cool person that I am, I decided to listen to it. And then I noticed that they had lyrics posted for it as well. Before I go on, I'd just like to say that I'm a sucker for lyrics and that The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus does an amazing job with theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alrighty, on with it! So I turn the song on and read the title of the song. It's called "Seventeen Ain't So Sweet." At that point I'm like whoa boy, I have to listen to this one. So I start to listen, it's got a good beat, nice melody, beautiful vocals, but then I read the lyrics and I am speechless. I literally sat at my computor with a dumbfounded look on my face. I didn't even have to see myself and I knew that I was dumbfounded. And then I tell my friend about this song and how it's exactly me at this point in my life. So she reads the lyrics and her reaction was something like this, "Yeah at first I thought that it sounded like it could be both of us and then it got to the seventeen part and I just sat there in amazement." Basically that's all that needs to be said, except for the actual lyrics of course. And here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seventeen Ain't So Sweet - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well she never was the best&lt;br /&gt;At following the trends&lt;br /&gt;Stayed one step above the rest&lt;br /&gt;Even though it seemed&lt;br /&gt;Like the world was crashing on her&lt;br /&gt;Didn't let it hold her down&lt;br /&gt;Didn't hold her back oh no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry you'll show them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chorus:&lt;br /&gt;There's a fire in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And I hope you let it burn&lt;br /&gt;There's a scream in your voice&lt;br /&gt;And I hope you will be heard&lt;br /&gt;There's a fire in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And I hope you let it burn&lt;br /&gt;Until you're heard, you're heard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seventeen is just a test&lt;br /&gt;And I would recommend&lt;br /&gt;That you live with no regrets&lt;br /&gt;Even if it seems&lt;br /&gt;Like the world is crashing on you&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't let it hold you down&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't hold you back oh no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry you'll show them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relax girl, turn down the lights&lt;br /&gt;Or no one can see you shining&lt;br /&gt;Relax girl, it'll be alright&lt;br /&gt;No one can stop you if you try&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of rhythm is to follow it in time&lt;br /&gt;So listen to the beating in your mind&lt;br /&gt;Remember if you seek then you shall find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have an amazing night and if you wanted to listen to the song go to &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&amp;friendID=4654367"&gt;http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&amp;amp;friendID=4654367&lt;/a&gt;. They're amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-116002669668769765?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/116002669668769765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=116002669668769765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116002669668769765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/116002669668769765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/10/seventeen-aint-so-sweet.html' title='Seventeen Ain&apos;t So Sweet...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115951166607860801</id><published>2006-09-28T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:54:44.182-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Wierd Kid.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/msnbradley2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/320/msnbradley2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=1168183461&amp;type=video&amp;amp;cp=1"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this video and more at &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=1168183461&amp;amp;n=2"&gt;MySpace.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so I am sad because sunday Bradley Hathaway (see above) is going to be in Spokane and I am not. Because of school... That's the worst thing, it's because of school. School seems to be getting in the way a lot lately. It's true, I'm voting that I can just be done with school right now. Bring it on, I am ready for summer. I am ready to no longer be held down by the prison they like to call highschool. I feel like I graduated at least 2 years ago so it's weird to be in a highschool building again. I don't like it. I'm also ready for this American Lit. class to be done. I'm not homophobic, but seriously, I'm not gunna go out and look for a gay teacher. Too bad the one I picked just happened to like boys. The other problem with this class is that I don't read a lot because I don't enjoy it unless Ted Dekker wrote it. Meaning... I'm a week behind in the reading.&lt;br /&gt;Next item up for bid. Um... me and my best friend planned all week to watch the season premere of Gilmore Girls together today because she was going to record it and today was the only time we could get together. So, I get to her house and we sit down and it said it only recorded 10 minutes. So, basically we watched 10 minutes of Gilmore Girls and I have no idea what happened and it saddened me deeply.&lt;br /&gt;Number three. I just feel weird. That's about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115951166607860801?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115951166607860801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115951166607860801' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115951166607860801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115951166607860801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/09/wierd-kid.html' title='Wierd Kid.'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115889137204576364</id><published>2006-09-21T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:55:26.786-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>That's Life Babe...</title><content type='html'>I think it's time for a blog. I can always tell because I'll feel slightly overloaded with whatever and have the urge to go run really really fast. So, I'll write this and then take a quick run. It seems like everything came down upon me during the first week of school and I've been able to hold it all quite well until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about school. Actually, I'll talk you read. So, I just now realized the weight of my decisions. I'm taking one class at my high school in the morning, then I go straight to the college for American Literature, Art History, Sociology, and finally Health and Wellness. That comes to 5 classes altogether. 4 college classes and 1 highschool class. I feel a little overloaded you could say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's time for my social life. Over the summer, me and my best friend practically spend every waking (and sometimes sleeping) hour together. But once school started she started volleyball and afterschool practices. All freetime was then used towards homework and volleyball so the only time we really see each other is the 5 minutes between the time my class gets out and hers starts and some time during the weekend. So I've pretty much traded my best friend in the world for school. Yeah, sounds like a good trade to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, on top of everything else in my life, there's this boy... stupid boy... unbelievable. I'm not gunna go into detail, because at this point in time, I'm not ready to and it's not worth my energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's be democrats and recount my life.. 5 hard classes, best friend gone M.I.A., boy that's there... but not really. For my 17-year-old body, that's a lot. I mean, I had more life experience by my freshmen year than many people in their 20's had. So, I'm pretty sure I can handle this. But then I look back and remember what happened in my freshman year and think "The only way I got through that was because Jesus was my only friend." So now I have my answer. The only way I can get through these next couple months without completely and totally breaking down is the love I've discovered for Jesus. It seems like every day I experience more love in new ways. Instead of sleeping through these next few months, I think I'll dance through them, with more passion than ever because I know that this is only a season. Soon enough the leaves will be gone, snow will come, and all will be well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115889137204576364?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115889137204576364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115889137204576364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115889137204576364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115889137204576364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/09/thats-life-babe.html' title='That&apos;s Life Babe...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115767620356995284</id><published>2006-09-07T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:56:25.578-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Leviathan..</title><content type='html'>I now despise all things not written in MODERN ENGLISH. Yes, this is an ignorant statement to make but at the moment, it's completely what I'm feeling. I have to read a few sections of Thomas Hobbes' &lt;em&gt;Leviathan &lt;/em&gt;for my government class&lt;em&gt;... &lt;/em&gt;Not cool... I can't really understand what exactly he's saying but I get the general idea. Too bad my teacher is not looking for the general idea or I would've have even bothered to read it. It's about the equality of men but my teachers wants us to go into more detail and come up with questions about the article tomorrow that either dispute or help ideas that Hobbes wrote. At this point, I don't even care what he's saying except for the fact that part of my grade hangs in the balance of whether or not I can make a valid statement in the discussion tomorrow. Right now I'm counting on the fact that it's a public school and I'm the only running start student in it so no one else is going to understand what the heck this guy is saying. Unbelievable *slaps Don's face*...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115767620356995284?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115767620356995284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115767620356995284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115767620356995284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115767620356995284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/09/leviathan.html' title='Leviathan..'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115682588603970595</id><published>2006-08-28T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:56:53.248-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Class is now in session...</title><content type='html'>Ok, now here's a post dedicated especially for my best friend. [This is not meant to offend, just bring humor to our lives. Therefore, you can't hold any of this against me either because it wasn't directed towards any one person, and if you are offended, take B-6. You just may have a hormonal inbalance.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright class today we will be learning the difference between sarcasm and wittiness. Now before you ask me the question, "Aren't they the same thing?" think about what I just said and stop yourself from self-inflicting mockery. Obviously there is a difference, because today we are going to learn about that difference. Or how about this? You might already know that there's a difference but still can't detect it in normal conversations. If that's you, don't worry, you will appreciate the fine art of placing a witty comment in a normal conversation soon enough. Now, lets get started!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, let's see what the lovely people at Encarta have to say about the whole thing shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wit &lt;/strong&gt;or &lt;strong&gt;Witty&lt;/strong&gt;: adjective&lt;br /&gt;1. using words cleverly: using words in an apt, clever, and amusing way&lt;br /&gt;2. cleverly done: strikingly clever, stylish, or original in design or execution&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sarcasm&lt;/strong&gt;: noun&lt;br /&gt;cutting language: remarks that mean the opposite of what they seem to say and are intended to mock or deride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, lets get the first major difference out of the way. To be witty, you must be intellegent or at least show intellegence. To be sarcastic, you really only have to say the opposite of what you mean and change your voice a little to sound like you're joking. It really involves no intellegence whatsoever. The people who are always sarcastic but not witty are the ones who get the letters in the mail saying "We regret to inform you that, due to the rising demand of smart people, you are no longer apart of the [insert any organization that requires you to be intellegent]."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing you must be aware of, is that to be witty, you must be quick on your feet. When you were little, do you remember how kids would say "THINK FAST!" and then throw something at you and then expect you to catch it? Well, to throw a witty remark in a conversation you have to be able to "THINK FAST!" If you can think fast and say something clever and the other person doesn't catch it or understand, it's ok. It just means you're cooler than they are, or you're just older and threw in some heinous reference to a commercial that aired in like 1952 when you're talking to an 8-year-old boy. If that's the case, then my advise to you is to find people your own age. They'll understand more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're going to talk about practical application. It's going to be just like church. To understand how to use these two humorous verbal tools, you must first have guidlines because you're not going to use a hammer to cut through plywood are you? No, you're not. If these tools are used wrong, it's not going to work and you're not going to sound funny. People may laugh at you but not because of the funny thing you just said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you try to be sarcastic too much, no one will think it's funny anymore. If you eat too much chocolate, you will get sick to your stomach. People will get sick of your sarcasm so place it in a conversation when people least expect it. You'll get alot of blank stares like "are you joking me right now?" but once you tell them you're joking, they'll appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;2. There is a time and place for everything. You shouldn't joke (be sarcastic) about death at a funeral. You know what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;3. Brush up on your references. They come in handy during conversations, and make you look smart and witty and funny. For example: someone says something stupid about loving the environment or something like that. You could say "Are you going to vote for Nader too?" or something to that extent. The faster you are, the funnier it seems.]&lt;br /&gt;4. If they don't laugh at your references, try a different type of references. Instead of politics, try pop culture. I doens't really matter, just as long as it's relevant to the conversation in some way. Don't try to be random and say something that has no thread of relativeness to the conversation. Because no one will think that it's funny, unless they're intoxicated.&lt;br /&gt;5. DO NOT say that you're so witty after you just pulled the sarcasm card because either people will think you're stupid if they already know the difference or you'll confuse even more people. And we don't want that to happen, now do we??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok kids, those are the rules. Yes, they are rules because we are not on a pirate ship. Guideline is to broad of a word. [If you didn't catch it, that was a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean when the captain is talking about how "The Code" is more of a guideline that rules] Now, spread the word and don't be to mean to people. Class dismissed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115682588603970595?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115682588603970595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115682588603970595' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115682588603970595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115682588603970595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/08/class-is-now-in-session.html' title='Class is now in session...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115640266145764876</id><published>2006-08-23T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:57:43.444-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Light'/><title type='text'>I will not surrender.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;WAR&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;noun (plural wars)&lt;br /&gt;Definition:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. armed fighting between groups: a period of hostile relations between countries, states, or factions that leads to fighting between armed forces, especially in land, air, or sea battles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The two countries are at war.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;2. period of armed fighting: a period of armed conflict between countries or groups&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;during the Vietnam War&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. methods of warfare: the techniques or the study of the techniques of armed conflict&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. conflict: a serious struggle, argument, or conflict between people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The candidates are at war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. serious effort to end something: an effort to combat or eradicate something harmful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;a war against drugs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;WAR DANCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;noun&lt;br /&gt;Definition:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dance before or after battle: a dance performed as a ceremony before a battle or to celebrate victory, e.g. by Native North Americans&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;For we are &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; fighting against people made of flesh and blood, &lt;strong&gt;but&lt;/strong&gt; against the &lt;em&gt;evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world&lt;/em&gt;, against those &lt;em&gt;mighty powers of darkness who rule this world&lt;/em&gt;, and against &lt;em&gt;wicked spirits in the heavenly realms&lt;/em&gt;. Ephesians 6:12 (NLT)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I want to encourage all those who are reading this to remember that the things that are happening may seem like they are coming from man, but you need to realize that it is the enemy working through situations and strongholds to make you want to give up. Pray through it. War through it. Dance through it. Just don't give up. God is not surprised by anything. I'm pretty sure "oops" is not in His vocabulary.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115640266145764876?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115640266145764876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115640266145764876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115640266145764876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115640266145764876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-will-not-surrender.html' title='I will not surrender.'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115623686679967880</id><published>2006-08-21T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:58:50.666-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>The Clincher</title><content type='html'>So, it's been a while but I feel like i just need to write. It's going to be one of those cleansing things I guess. If you want to know what's going on in my life, that sucks because no specifics will be mentioned, hopefully. Emotions have been hitting hard in the last week or so. All sorts of emotions. It's probably because of an even that is going on this week that my church is having. Spiritual warfare and fun stuff like that. Therefore, you may not hold anything I write against me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="346" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="m=1043871829&amp;type=video&amp;amp;cp=1"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this video and more at &lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=1043871829&amp;amp;n=2"&gt;MySpace.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm writing this as Chevelle (see video above) serenades me in the background. If you know who Chevelle is, congratulations, you're now cool. Other than you being cool, you'll also know that they aren't soft, flowery music. As I listen to this I realize how weird my musical choices are timing wise. For instance, when I'm sad the music I use to cheer myself up is most likely Emo (sad, depressing). For some reason it snaps me back into a good mood. When I'm angry I listen to something with screaming and a heavy guitar. Now, I still love both of these types of music anyways just for my listening pleasure, but it seems to me that I generally listen to them more when you would think that I shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lets get down to the nitty gritty. Love, Hate, Joy, Sorrow, Excitement, Dread. It's a weird feeling having all of those go through you at once. Each emotion and it's opposite at the same time. How does that happen you ask? I'm not quite sure yet. Being excited for something but dreading getting let down. Loving someone yet hating their actions. Being happy for a friend and sad for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these things were stuff that Tom talked about on Sunday. It was good to know that this wasn't just me. All these random things just started happening that made it seem like everything was falling apart (as much as my life can actually do that, I think I have it pretty good). But you know how teenage girls are, everything's a catastrophe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you didn't know me, then you would've thought that I'm one of those teenage girls.. Too bad most things don't bother me anymore. I pretty much don't care about my respectability anymore. Lynda is to blame for that.. Thank you Lynda, my life is so much more fun now... But what I do care about is my freedom. I've never liked the feeling that I'm being squeezed or pushed or "boxed-in". Physically or spiritually. Sometimes both will happen at once. Lately it's been more of a physical one. I completely hate it and yet there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. If I speak up, the amount of freedom I have diminishes. If I stay silent, usually nothing happens, I have the same amount of freedom as before or somehow I get less freedom. Neither one is very fun. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. So, I do nothing. I just sit and wait it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait. I hate to wait, for most things actually. It's so hard, but I hear that it's fulfilling. I'm not sure I've experienced that yet. So far this summer I've waited for... hmm... ah, yes. The roadtrip. Me and my best friend have wanted to take a road trip to a specific place all summer. It looked like it was going to happen and then two days before it was called off. That was fun. So now we're planning on it again for next weekend. I sure hope it happens because we've been waiting for this for a few months now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of a boy. I liked him for a very long time. Like two years I think. That's long for a teenage girl who knew that it was never going to happen and yet still held onto hope. I've constantly ask myself why I waited for so long because I see now that it would've never worked and on top of it, it just would've been kind of weird... But then I thought, maybe it was to distract me from something or someone else that wouldn't have been good for me. If that's the case then, God, You're halarious! And I know He's halarious anyways. He told me jokes in a dream one time. I woke up the next morning and my Abs hurt. Hmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is the end of my long winded story/explaination/rabbit trail. I might have made myself look bad but sometimes things need to come out so they can't be held over your head. I hope there was some wit added in there for a few laughs, but I honestly don't remember what I wrote. All I know is that it's almost 2 am and that I'm feeling much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Chevelle!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115623686679967880?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115623686679967880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115623686679967880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115623686679967880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115623686679967880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/08/clincher.html' title='The Clincher'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115346523705953045</id><published>2006-07-20T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T19:59:41.495-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>..."a culture counter-clockwise turned around"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Island Of The Honest Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was picked up and then dropped off in a culture counter-clockwise turned around&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dug a hole in Southern Carolina - took me straight to China safe and sound&lt;br /&gt;Donated my map to the lost and found&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While working for a common cause I only got a kamikaze state of mind&lt;br /&gt;This self defeating meeting of the minds is eating what was once so hard to find&lt;br /&gt;But right then the clouds parted in the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The horizon took us all a little by surprise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Watch the sky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And as the howling winds subdsided, the locals ran out, all waving their hands and singing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do what you want - there is no need to impress us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We don't believe in what the big people tell us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wait here - stay here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was picked up and then dropped off in a culture counter-clockwise turned around&lt;br /&gt;Rolled a pair of dice in &lt;strong&gt;Paris&lt;/strong&gt; that got me to paradise all safe and sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stole my temper back from the lost and found&lt;br /&gt;No longer needed to be seated on a sinking ship just waiting there to drown&lt;br /&gt;Jump off now - jump off now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And as they lead us to their village, a thousand voices all started to sing out loud:&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do what you want - there is no need to impress us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We don't believe in what the big people tell us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wait here - stay here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;From the sunrise up above to the sunset below, they all sing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome in, welcome back, well come on let's go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And all the people on the island they already know why they sing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome in, welcome back, well come on let's go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;From the sunrise up above to the sunset below, they all sing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome in, welcome back, well come on let's go&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And all the people on the island they all want to show why they sing, why they sing, why they sing, why they're singing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do what you want - there is no need to impress us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We don't believe in what the big people tell us&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Welcome to the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the island of the honest man&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wait here - stay here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was picked up and then dropped off in a culture counter-clockwise turned around&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, I love this song... It's called &lt;em&gt;Island of the Honest Man&lt;/em&gt; by Hot Hot Heat. I immediately thought of my church. Especially the "there's no need to impress us" part. It's super upbeat and all happy like you'd want to dance to it but it's not "pop" music. I'd rather pull out all my hair... It's just good clean fun music. OY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115346523705953045?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115346523705953045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115346523705953045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115346523705953045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115346523705953045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/07/culture-counter-clockwise-turned.html' title='...&quot;a culture counter-clockwise turned around&quot;...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115293486143338935</id><published>2006-07-14T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:00:21.114-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Off to 'nam!</title><content type='html'>As you grow up there are many decisions that must be made in your life. What hairstyle you should choose for your face shape. The pink top or the blue one? Should I go with open-toed heals or rounded toed flats for prom? All great questions that require thoughtfulness and a brutaly honest best friend, but no question is quite like "where should I go to college?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a scary question that has many other questions built into it. What do you want to do with your life? Where do you want to live? How much money can you afford to pay for tuition? What academic level are you at so you know what school's you should aim for. Co-ed or gender discriminate? Junior college or University?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I can really only answer two of those questions at the moment. First, I will go to a co-ed school. None of this all girl crap. I don't get along with girls very easily. I only have 9 friends that are girls total, the rest are guys. I have a lot of friends. The other answer I have is that whatever school I go to will be a university. Next year I'll be graduating from a community college... so that knocks out the whole 'live at home for a few more years and get your general degree first'. Ha, can't fool me with that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what do I want to do with my life? Well, I have this thing with designing T-Shirts which would involve a lot of graphic design except for the fact that I've never used any graphic design software EVER. I use paper and pencil. But Graphic Design is not out of the question yet. The next possibility is Fashion Design. You get to actually draw on paper your designs but I don't have a ton of experience with actually making the clothes. I've made a few dresses and purses but that's about it. More experience there than in graphic design but my sewing machine's broken for now so we'll have to wait that one out too. The last two options are not holding ground very well. I wanted to do Interior Design for a while but I'm bored of it now. I've redesigned a couple rooms in my house but I no longer have a desire to do that every day of my life. The last is architecture. This is only a possibility because of the salary. I'd get to draw, but I don't know much about it so, that's almost out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see my problem? I'll have a general degree after this year so I need to go into something more specified now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I've thought about taking a year off, but I honestly don't think I'll want to go back to school if I do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is making me very tired. I'm fighting the urge to take a sleeping pill that will knock me out for about 3 years so I wake up just in time to get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to live in London for a year or so at some point during my college experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How any of this is going to work out.. I don't know. Until then, I'll keep debating over what prom dress is right for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115293486143338935?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115293486143338935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115293486143338935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115293486143338935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115293486143338935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/07/off-to-nam.html' title='Off to &apos;nam!'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115222674994246921</id><published>2006-07-06T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:00:46.907-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>No Munching!</title><content type='html'>I just got back from the beach for the Fourth. It was pretty sweet I guess. The best part was that I got to spend like 6 days straight with my best friend, and we're not sick of each other yet either. Crazy, I know. While we were there we practicaly lived in this little coffee shop called Bella's. It's so much better than Starbucks. Well, right next to this place is one of those tourist shops that have "funny" tee-shirts and nicknacks. One of the days we were there, my friend decides to go into this place and look at the shirts to see if there were any funny ones. Ha, the best one that we found said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I used to go skinny dipping. Now I go chunky dunking."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The runner up went something like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Who are these kids and why are they calling me mom?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, that was the whole point of this blog. To tell everyone who reads this about these funny shirt that I saw. And to say, 'How does Sweden sound to you?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115222674994246921?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115222674994246921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115222674994246921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115222674994246921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115222674994246921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/07/no-munching.html' title='No Munching!'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115156662741975207</id><published>2006-06-28T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:01:29.569-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>More Paradoxes.</title><content type='html'>Stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No reason for saying that, it just needed to come out I guess. I think I'll stick with writing what needs to come out because if I don't do it now, it'll just come out later right? Right. My mood has been changing every five minutes so the end of this blog could have a completely different tone than the beginning. Well, it makes life interesting right? Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love Blindside. I bought their Ten Years Running Blind DVD the other day. I've watched it many times already. Not because it's amazing (eventhough it is), but because of one song. Oh my gosh, Jessica is my witness.... Goodness me. I watched the live version of their song About A Burning Fire and I had to fight back the tears. There's a part in the song where the music gets really quiet for about 30 seconds where he sings the words "I thought about a burning fire, I thought about a loving fire. I thought about Your love. I thought about Your love." Now, the song is completely loud and all the words are screamed instead of sung. I mean, honestly, he can do whatever he wants because it's beautiful either way, but during the live version... That 30 second part turned into like a minute or two because they started their own little worship session during one of their most hardcore songs... they just stopped, turned around and stood their with their hands raised singing "I thought about a burning fire, I thought about a love fire, I thought about Your love. I thought about Your love." And then they just started going crazy. It looked like my church on that stage. Whoever tells me Blindside sucks or anything else to that degree, I will slap them across the face and then sit them down and make them watch that video. Yes, I will slap you across the face if I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a weird time in my life. I don't know what's going on at all honestly. Like I said before, weird mood swings.. must be menopause. Yeah, cause that's makes so much sense...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I think I'll stay, caught up in silent prayer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cause I believe in silence.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our hearts speak the same words.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So why don't we just walk along the shoreline with our silent song?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause I believe in silence.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our hearts speak the same words, the same words. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love that song. It's called silence. It's so beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know I was made to go up this mountain &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every bone in my body tells me it's right &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know I was made to go up this mountain &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I'm getting scared of heights &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Still I'll sleep to the sound of the monsters roar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause I'll sleep next to Your heartbeat forever &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sleep right next to Your heartbeat &lt;strong&gt;forever&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part in a song called The Endings thoroughly expresses where I am right now, how I feel, and anything else you can imagine. I don't even know what the mountain is, but I know it's there and I'm tired of going around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;One day this world will see me at the horizon &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;One day from a distant light &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And just before I stand to face my love &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll turn around &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And with a smile I'll say my goodbyes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just one last goodbye &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Goodbye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleepwalking. There's two versions, I love both but lately I only listen to the acoustic version. It's so beautiful. Christian Lindskog has a beautiful voice. I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wait up, don’t you close your eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love has been hidden in the shadow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You’ve got the rope already tied around your neck&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;One voice whispers life through your sorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a part from the song called We're All Going To Die. Sounds completely depressing from the title, but if you continued the title as it is in the chorus, it would read "We're all going to die, But we're not all meant to die young."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the sons and daughters of a revolution&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Revolutionaries walking us out of oppression and into a no-law promised land&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where there is no right or wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And this leaves us with a great sense of sadness growing inside our soul&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No one can explain where it's coming from&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or where it's taking us&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We just know that something is lost&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That somehow we are lost&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And this, my friend, is the great depression&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The Great Depression-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's ok if you break &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll see colors again &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is more than you can take &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll see colors again &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's your life that's at stake &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You'll see colors again &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't you think it's my time, anytime soon &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's me. Ironically it's called Painting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything that's italicized was written by the boys of Blindside, and almost fully expresses everything that I've been feeling. A lot of interconnected things that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. It's because I'm a paradox. That's how my life goes. Completely random and interesting, not always fun, but interesting. Life. Makes me want to scream. The funny thing is that I was completely happy for about five minutes in the middle of writing this and now I'm in a different mood now. Weird. I don't get it. Something's trying to play with my emotions and I don't appreciate it very much. But I do find it kind of funny.... More paradoxes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115156662741975207?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115156662741975207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115156662741975207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115156662741975207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115156662741975207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-paradoxes.html' title='More Paradoxes.'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-115094640295442661</id><published>2006-06-21T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:03:22.201-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Connection failed.</title><content type='html'>It's been a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's out for the summer so it's no longer safe to go to the mall without seeing a million people that you know but really don't want to encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer may be here, but the cold has not left. If you cannot swim at night, then it's too cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is changing. People come and people go. There's nothing you can do about it. Might as well get over it. Just let it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this kid. His life has been hard. He's pretty cool, but doesn't know it at all. We've become friends. It's pretty sweet. We used to go to school together but I didn't even realize it until he said something about it. My school was miniscule. Like 100 kids in the highschool/middleschool. I didn't even notice him and he is a year younger than me. Why is he all of the sudden in my life now? I have no idea. I don't get it. Why didn't I ever talk to him before? I don't know that either. I met him by "chance". I'm thinking it was a divine appointment. Two weeks before we became friends he tried to commit suicide because he thought that no one would care. I just found that out. It broke my heart. I didn't know that telling him how cool he was meant anything to him, but apparently it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting older, my friends are starting to get married. That's weird. It's kind of freakin me out a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is weird. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but all the time weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do our lives on earth look like from heaven? Do our dead relatives &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;watch us from heaven, assuming that's where they went? Why would they even want to? Why would you want to preoccupy yourself with earth when you're in heaven? I don't even like earth and it's all I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elastic is so weird. It stretches. For some reason I find that completely random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired of music. All music. Very tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning how to paint with watercolors. I thought that if I learned from someone who knew, then I might like them. Needless to say, I still hate watercolors. Maybe it'll be one of those things you learn to love, like U2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing that I just wrote seems related in my mind but it's just what decided to come out today. It doesn't make sense to me, just like rap music isn't music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-115094640295442661?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/115094640295442661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=115094640295442661' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115094640295442661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/115094640295442661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/06/connection-failed.html' title='Connection failed.'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114972987816424741</id><published>2006-06-07T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:03:58.755-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Yeah! HardXCore!</title><content type='html'>YES! I just found the video for "We Cry Mercy". I'm thinking you should watch it. And look out for the hardcore dancers, they're awsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wuwEsjDBXgM" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I like these people, because when I think about hardcore kids and dancers, I always visualize these hardcore dancers going at it before God's throne, abandoning everything with passion and every ounce of energy in their bodies. Yeah, I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114972987816424741?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114972987816424741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114972987816424741' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114972987816424741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114972987816424741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/06/yeah-hardxcore.html' title='Yeah! HardXCore!'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114905643189815124</id><published>2006-05-30T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:04:20.179-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>We Cry Mercy!</title><content type='html'>Another look into the musical interests of a girl that goes by the name of Emily... or Shem (interestingly enough, since the ancient hebrew meaning is "Understanding Someone's Mystery") if you're of the Troutman clan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today (or tonight) I'm going to show you yet another band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, in case you're wondering, I don't do this to promote bands. There are several that I absolutely love, but their songs don't really shake me up enough to talk about them in depth. Just to let you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I was driving home from school and I was listening to a cd that my friend had made me. She arranged it so very clever to so that the cd went from soft and loving to faster and more happy to fast and "angry". But the whole thing told a story. It's very cool I must say. But today I was at the end of the cd listening to a song called "We Cry Mercy" by Dear Whoever. Dear whoever is screamo band and I knew they were Christian and all but I never really listened to the words.. maybe because the music was just mediocre... But today was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was listening to the song and all of the sudden I just caught a line of the song that goes, "Armour of God protect us as we cry Mercy give us Mercy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, at that point, I got shivers. I think what attracts me to screamo music is the pure passion/insanity that is released in it. At every part that says "mercy, give us mercy", they're screaming. To me, it's shear desperation. Like when you know you're supposed to go dance but you're afraid to and you have all of this pent up energy that makes you want to explode and yell and scream and fall to your face and cry and then go run like 5 hundred miles. Thats the feeling I get when I hear these bands that I've mentioned so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hear are another set of lyrics for you. Read them over if you wish. They are very, very good. When you read them, think of my generation... Generation "X"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've been broken falling out again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll hold my armor close right there next to you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We will stand, holding ourselves, I need you here and I &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;need your help &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When I look around, there's no one beside me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all I hear, is my breathing, from my chest, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm crawling around, searching...escaping...death... I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;will not surrender &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Grace bestowed on my heart when we cry Mercy, we cry mercy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Armor of God protect us as we cry Mercy give us Mercy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Grace so lovely pure and holy we cry Mercy we cry mercy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All I needed was you next to me, since this started, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't stop bleeding, it's all my fault, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll take the blame, you never left and you died for me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My hands are shaking, when I'm scared&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All the death around, me help me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is War&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We're at war&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Save us from war&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Torn by the enemy ripped from my flesh and blood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114905643189815124?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114905643189815124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114905643189815124' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114905643189815124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114905643189815124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/we-cry-mercy.html' title='We Cry Mercy!'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114888148798593165</id><published>2006-05-28T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:04:35.850-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>In Loving Memory...</title><content type='html'>About a week ago my Great Uncle Kent passed away in China. What was he doing in China? Well, he worked for the U.S. Government at the embassy doing electrical engineering stuff. He's travelled around the world making sure the Embassies always have power. Him and his wife, Sylvia, haven't lived in the good parts of the world either...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom told me a story about my aunt and uncle a few days ago that I thought was totally sweet. Hopefully I can get this right.... So, they used to live in Rwanda when the civil war broke out amonst the citizens. Well, they had evacuated everyone out of the embassy and there were a bunch of marines sent to protect the embassy, but my aunt and uncle had to stay behind to make sure there was power for the marines. So, during this time when the war broke out, there was no communication out of the country except for the marines but my aunt and uncle weren't allowed to use the military's communication, which meant that no one in our family knew if they were even still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the rebels took over a nearby orphanage and the marines had to go rescue the nuns and the orphans and bring them back to the embassy to be airlifted out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, their son, my cousin, was watching CNN.. and who do you think was on tv? My aunt Sylvia. CNN was showing video footage of my aunt helping the nuns and the children get airlifted out. So, my cousin calls the entire family and they all watch in relief that my aunt and uncle are safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my aunt and uncle finally were able to call from the satellite phone the marines had and when my cousin asked if everything was alright my aunt told him that everything was great but there were a bunch of hungry marines at her table that were ready to be fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle was halarious though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funerals, in my family, are unorthodox... SHOCKER! Usually, the speakers start with the people who are very serious and will make you sad and then end with the people that have all the funny stories about whomever just passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite memories of my Uncle Kent was at my great grandma's (his mother's) funeral. I'm pretty sure he was the last one to say something and when he was done, there wasn't a dry eye in the place.. due to excessive laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talked about how his mom would always be praying for his "cousin" Bruce. Come to find out that his "cousin" Bruce turned out to be his "brother" Bruce as well... That's right they were cousins and brothers at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all should've known that this story was going to be told because Uncle Kent always loved to pull it out on unsuspecting people who didn't fully know the interworkings of our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he tells everyone that his brother was also his cousin without any background info first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the background he gives us after he tells us the story of his cousin Bruce... You may need to read it over a few times to actually understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-So my Uncle Kent and Grandpa Bruce were brothers.&lt;br /&gt;-They have two sets of grandparents, one on mom's side and one on dad's.&lt;br /&gt;-Grandpa on mom's side and Grandma on dad's side both die.&lt;br /&gt;-Then Grandma on mom's side marries Grandpa on dad's side.&lt;br /&gt;-They do this after Kent and Bruce's parents are married and have kids.&lt;br /&gt;-So, by deductive reasoning, or something like that, Kent and Bruce's mom and dad are technically step brother and sister.&lt;br /&gt;-Making all of their kids technically cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is normal for my family, but for everyone else... It's a bit much. But that's how my uncle Kent was, not afraid to be funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no, no one in my family has an extra toe or anything like that. We like to say that we're just an American family with alot of funny people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I'll tell you who I get all of my different traits from. I figured it out one day, and I must say... My family is halarious.. I got it from both sides...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In loving memory of Kent Mackabon... You will be missed at all funerals and weddings alike.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114888148798593165?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114888148798593165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114888148798593165' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114888148798593165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114888148798593165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/in-loving-memory.html' title='In Loving Memory...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114835294688794564</id><published>2006-05-22T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:05:02.315-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Chuck Norris</title><content type='html'>So, Lately I've noticed a fascination in my generation with Chuck Norris. I think it's because we all grew up with "Walker Texas Ranger" and Chuck Norris always kicking the bad guys butt with a round house to the face. But it's almost strange to me how "popular" Mr. Norris is. It's hysterical actually. To show you what I mean, here are some of the many Chuck Norris jokes I've seen circulating the internet. I've edited them for content and language because, lets be honest, people my age do not have the best track record when it comes to being "clean"... I blame Britney Spears, stupid pop music. If you listen to it long enough it can make anyone go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to Einstein's theory of relativity, Chuck Norris can actually roundhouse kick you yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.* (my personal favorite)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has not had to pay taxes ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Chuck Norris and that you will be handicapped if you park there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone once tried to tell Chuck Norris that roundhouse kicks aren't the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate an Indian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quickest way to a man's heart is with Chuck Norris's fist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Chuck Norris is late, time better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because Chuck Norris is afraid of the dark, but the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At birth, Chuck Norris came out feet first so he could roundhouse kick the doctor in the face. Nobody delivers Chuck Norris but Chuck Norris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ask Chuck Norris what time it is, he always says, "Two seconds till." After you ask, "Two seconds to what?" he roundhouse kicks you in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heart disease may be the new leading cause of death in women age 45 to 65, but Chuck Norris is still the leading cause of death in men age 0 to 125.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his dad did. (Kind of like how Ab Lincoln was born in a log cabin he built with his own two hands..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that's why there are no signs of life there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris was going to spend a relaxing day watching television when one of those commercials for Trix cereal came on. Angered by what he saw, Chuck Norris spent the rest of his, what was supposed to be a relaxing day, punching every child he came across. He would then shout at them, “Trix are for Chuck Norris.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the fascination with Chuck Norris? Maybe the kids just need someone to look up to but instead they end up mocking him for long periods of time... in love of course. But all of the "mocking" comes out as "CHUCK NORRIS IS AMAZING!" where you know that their halfway kidding halfway not. I don't understand what's so cool I guess, but the jokes are pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my humerous blog for the week. Maybe I'll end up writing a serious blog one of these days. Or maybe not, we'll see how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114835294688794564?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114835294688794564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114835294688794564' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114835294688794564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114835294688794564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/chuck-norris.html' title='Chuck Norris'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114774355436814902</id><published>2006-05-15T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:05:25.369-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>But why???</title><content type='html'>I'm here to offer you the mysteries of life.. Most of which are totally random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why does the Collesium have the Canadian flag in the middle of the washington state flag and the American flag.. I thought we were in America... Sure, hockey originated in Canada or something like that but did the Expo's (montreal professional baseball team) or the Blue Jays (toronto baseball team) have the American flag in the middle? I don't know.. It's just a mystery of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why are the weathermen almost always wrong yet dependable? You can basically plan your day around the weather if you think in opposites. If the guy on the tube says they'll be thunderstorms, forget the umbrella at home (unless you're a satanist-Ghost World reference.. stupid movie) because it's going to be a beautiful day! If the man is telling you that it'll be sunny and warm, make sure to bring a jacket wherever you go and maybe a poncho because heavy rainfall is coming your way. Who knows why... I think the weather people should start reporting the opposite of what they think is going to happen, but it might throw off many people like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why is it that me and my best friend can have the best time in the world, sitting at the park for hours on end, just the two of us because no one else decided to show up? I don't understand it. You would think that we'd feel like losers because everyone loves to ditch us, but it's not so. We just sit there, in the same spot every time, comtemplating what the girl in the white dress was thinking when she went shopping for prom. Another mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Last summer at the boat races I noticed that many of the girls my age had a thing for not buttoning the first button of their shorts/skirt and then instead rolling it down to show their swimsuit bottoms.. As if to say, "Eventhough I do not a have a shirt on so you can see that I'm wearing a tiny bikini, I would like to show you that I have the bottoms to match." I'm pretty sure we're smart enough to realize that you're wearing a swimsuit from the top, no need to expose yourself to the entire world. It's not like unbuttoning the top button is going to cool you off anymore... I just don't understand it.- Gaucho pants.. that's all I've got to say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why does the ketchup only come out of the glass bottles when you tap on the 57?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Emo/Punk/Harcore guys who date preppy/abercrombie zombies... The only answer I've found is that they wanted to share pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- People in America have selective memory loss.. All I hear is how good our country was doing when Bill Clinton was in office, and then how bad our country is doing now that Bush is president... I don't know if they forgot about Miss Monica or how Bill didn't take out Saddam when he had the chance. Oh yeah, and by the way, in case you were wondering about the "useless" war on Iraq... Can you remember what NYC looked like before September 11th? Just wondering. And I'd like to thank president Nixon for showing us what would happen if we decided to pull out now. Really, I can't explain the phenomenon..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why do girls pick out prom dresses that don't flatter their body. It IS a mystery of life. When I was at the park with my friend, we just sat there and a horde of kids on their way to prom came and took pictures, while we sat there. There was a theme that ran through every group. No one looked comfortable in their dresses and they all looked fake. Except for this one couple. My bet was that they were more best friends than a "couple" because they looked so confortable, like they were used to dressing that way. They looked like they stepped right out of the 50's.. almost. Of course there was a modern punky twist on the whole thing, but it was pretty sweet. Are girls ever going to learn that certain dresses just aren't for them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Rap music, don't understand it. Well, not true. I get that it's a form of expression when done right. What I don't get is how most every rap song lies within about 5 categories: Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Guns/Violence, Cars. You're about to say, "Don't most genres of music lie within those general categories?" And I answer back with, "Yeah, sure.." The kicker is that most songs have ALL FIVE CATEGORIES IN THE SAME SONG! With 10 to 15 songs on a CD, you can see why I don't understand rap music or the people who like it. It's like listening to the same vulgar song over and over but they're "different" songs. Variety people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Canadian's don't like Americans.. Why is that? We give them money. We don't even correct them when they say that they're "Americans" too.. Oh wait.. Ha, got that one from my mom. Here's a great story to back this one up: When my family was in Canada, we were staying on Victoria Island. Well, this American nuclear powered ship was docked there and the people who lived there were protesting this ship.. just because it was nuclear powered. I'm thinking the people didn't fully comprehend the situation before deciding to protest because if they did, they would've realized that there were about a thousand or two American Sailors on that ship with American money in their pockets, which is worth a lot more than Canadian money, ready to fuel the Canadian economy. Smart people. Another mystery of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Y2K... who came up with that crap in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why would someone want a split level house? Who come up with this idea in the first place? It wastes alot of space that could be utilized better in a different floor plan. Explain it for me please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- People come from Mexico but don't learn to speak English. Yeah, America is the melding pot of the world, but English is the official language of the United States. Learn it so we can all work together without the translater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Rice Krispies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lawn Gnomes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Passive agressive people. I don't understand them. I don't know how to deal with them. One of life's mysteries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Why do you get more hotdog buns in a package then hotdogs? Or is it the other way around. Personally, I like Steve Martin's explaination in "Father of the Bride."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why does the water go down the drain one way in the northern hemisphere and another is the southern. Well, I know it's due to gravity.. but why do they go that specific way? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- How can the writers of the book "Freakonomics," claim that the reason the crime rate dropped int he early 1990's is because abortion was legalized in '73? They "back their statement up" by saying that the people who wanted an abortion were the ones who were in the worst economic position so the babies that were not born would've grown up to be criminals and since they weren't born, the crime rate dropped. How could someone even come up with crap like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are all the ones I can think of right now. More to come later no doubt. If I bashed on someone, I didn't mean to, honest. I was only stating the things that confused me. It's true. If you think of any, just let me know.Have fun with that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114774355436814902?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114774355436814902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114774355436814902' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114774355436814902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114774355436814902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/but-why.html' title='But why???'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114722240388995158</id><published>2006-05-09T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:06:21.647-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Paradox</title><content type='html'>I'm going through a writing dry-spell. I don't know what to say anymore. My blog has quickly become a music review, which was not my intention when I began (even though my first post was a music review). Maybe that's what I'm supposed to be writing on here. Maybe someone needed to find a sweet new band right at the time I posted about Blindside or Flyleaf or The Album Leaf. I've got no idea. I don't want my blog to be me typing empty words to all of six people.. even though they are six very special people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, well. Now I have a story to tell you that happened to me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, if you don't know me, you need to understand that I'm halarious. Ha, and very humble. But seriously, I've been known to crack jokes at just about anytime. That's just a part of who I am. But when I'm at school, I'm totally different. I rarely talk or say anything funny unless I know someone in my class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm taking this "salesmanship" class, right? Funniest class I've ever had. It's so random and we do nothing the whole time. So what usually happens is we come in, sit at our round tables and talk to each other the whole time. Usually, I'm not doing the talking since I sit with three other guys who I don't know and who are also older than me. But there's this on kid who sits at my table who always talks to me and tells me jokes and in return I'll say some smart aleck remark back that isn't funny because it's not supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was about the same, except today this kid was telling me riddles and then I would blow his mind with the right answers (too bad I had already heard them or I could be deemed "clever"). So after a while the other guys at the table want to hear some of these and then the topic turns towards getting carded at bars? What? Yeah, I don't understand the thought process. So they're talking about how women are always so happ to get carded because it makes them feel young. Then this kid, obviously underaged as well, turns to me and says, "So does it make you happy when you get carded in a bar?" and I reply, "Of course, since I hang out at the bar so much. I find it's easier to sell myself there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was obviously making a crack at our assignment for this week. We had to "sell ourselves" as a sales person. And being at a table with three guys, prostitution came up at least twice in a joking manner as I just sat there and said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this time, I decided to give them a little taste of Emily. I caught the guy so off guard that I started laughing. He said, "Wow, I didn't know you were so funny.. You're always so quiet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, he thought I was quiet. Go ahead, laugh a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a paradox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a personality test and scored equally in two categories that are completely opposite. the bizzare thing about it is, I looked at the descriptions of both of them, and they both fit my personality to the "T". My sales teacher was bamboozled by it. No one understood it but me.. and my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you see is &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; what you get with me. Not because I hide anything, but because I'm multi-layered. "I'm taller than I appear." You never know what's going to happen next and yet I'm so predictable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114722240388995158?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114722240388995158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114722240388995158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114722240388995158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114722240388995158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/paradox.html' title='Paradox'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114686150337852738</id><published>2006-05-05T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:06:41.153-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>I'm So Sick...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://myspace-876.vo.llnwd.net/00234/67/86/234326876_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 458px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 331px" height="259" alt="" src="http://myspace-876.vo.llnwd.net/00234/67/86/234326876_l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flyleaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just listened to them extensively, and all I have to say is "wow." They now share the space in my heart reserved for Blindside. That's a pretty big complement too, seeing as how Blindside is my all-time favorite band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is what Flyleaf is... A band. Five members. They classify themselves as "rock" which is pretty general for what their sound is. They sound to me more like a mix between metal and hard rock. Some screaming added in there. Oh yeah, and their lead singer is a girl. Amazing. First of all, girls just can't rock.. Coming from me, a girl who digs rock music, that's a big statement and as much as I wish it wasn't true.. it is, well, for the most part. Flyleaf is a HUGE exception. She sounds alot like Avril Lavrigne when she sings but with a harder edge. Her name is Lacey Mosley, and you probably wouldn't guess that the band that she sings for is christian. I mean, MTV has their video "I'm So Sick" playing on their rock count downs. That's only been achieved by a few other christian bands (Relient K, The Afters, Blindside, P.O.D.-except they don't want to be labeled "christian" anymore-). I didn't even know they were christian until a friend told me.. and even then I didn't believe it. So today I decided to check it out for sure. The first place I checked was their Myspace account. It didn't really say anything about it, so I checked the christian rock lyrics website.. BINGO! WE HAVE A WINNER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to find out, they explicitely mention Jesus and God in alot of their songs.. I think the reaction would be funny if someone saw them on MTV thinking they were this sweet metal band and then hear "Remember you, Remember me, Jesus there in between, Jesus" come through their stereo after they bought the cd. I'd pay money to see that one. WOO YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As dark as they may look or even sound sometimes, their songs are beautiful. A perfect example would be the song "All Around Me" (&lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;friendID=45090343"&gt;http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendID=45090343&lt;/a&gt;). The lyrics are all about worshiping God with the angels. I personally enjoy seeing how this band (Flyleaf) and Blindside can sound so mean or dark even but then have lyrics that describe worship in such a way that they would have to experience it first hand to be able to write about it. I've heard alot of mainstream contemporary christian music and it sucks compared. Lyrically wise, there's no depth. It's the pop music of christians. Can you say "Brittany Spears"? CAUSE I CAN! Seriously, when are contemporary artists going to start writing something with meaning? I still wouldn't listen to it because I can't stand that style, but I sure wouldn't rag on it as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Flyleaf. The more I listen and read their lyrics (while I'm writing this), the more I love their music. It just keeps getting better and better. The lyrics - uplifting. The music - talented yet out of the norm. The band - edgy. Sounds like my kind of band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their official website is &lt;a href="http://www.flyleafmusic.com"&gt;www.flyleafmusic.com&lt;/a&gt; and you can find all of their lyrics at &lt;a href="http://www.christianrocklyrics.com/flyleaf.php"&gt;www.christianrocklyrics.com/flyleaf.php&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the video of "I'm So Sick"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JcmUKlze8t4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so want to do something like that.. how cool would that be? This chick makes me happy like the prophetik t-shirts... That's another big compliment...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh.. I just found this.. This is a quick interview with Flyleaf. They explain all about their music and faith in this. It made me love them more...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NW7_I3QQ4SI" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114686150337852738?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114686150337852738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114686150337852738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114686150337852738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114686150337852738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-so-sick.html' title='I&apos;m So Sick...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114680886878684316</id><published>2006-05-04T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:07:13.598-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>What about Milo??</title><content type='html'>So... as shallow as this may seem, me and my friend have finally come up with an acurate scale to determine the levels of attractiveness.. Now i'm going to try to bring this around so its all deep and such but NO PROMISES! And if it doesn't amount to anything, I have a backup plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so now that we've determined that I am definately a social creature, who usually doesn't think in deep ways unless forced in an english class or unless I just feel extra creative that day, we (I) can begin writing about boys. I should be able to write alot about them because God knows that I can talk alot about them. I'm starting to think that's why I'm so picky, which to me is a good thing. I certainly don't want to be promiscious or anything like that. But back to the subject matter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We broke it down into six different categories.. Ironicaly, six is the number of man or something like that. (Tom?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the lowest category is "Not-So-Cute." Ugly is a mean word. I don't know.. I wouldn't want to be called ugly. So we reserve "Not-So-Cute" for the guys who aren't so cute. Kind of how instead of check-out clerk they're called "sales associates"... Basically romanticising the whole idea of running items up for a customer and taking their money for hours on end.. Screaming babies, Rude men who are "in a hurry", and people who are just overly happy at the end of the day that make you want to puke. Sounds like a great job to me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 5's are called the "Nerdy-Cute." Now, these people can be moved around alot depending on personality. Alot of girls like nerdy guys. I'm not sure why, it just happens though. They're kind of forgotten about sometimes, but not. Kind of like the quote from Elizabethtown when when Claire is talking to Drew (which is basically the whole movie, yet I still enjoyed it) and she says, "I'm easy to forget yet hard to remember." Except that makes no sense.. Maybe it was "not easy" to forget.. I don't know. Forget that. Next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOO YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Group four... The "Cute" ones. Your average good-looking people. You wouldn't see them in a magazine anytime soon, but they certainly don't hurt your eyes to look at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hott" is how we descibe the next group. Personally.. I don't care much for the hott ones because they usually know it, and then they become conceded and that's just kind of annoying sometimes. But since this is strictly a shallow-surface way of categorizing people, the hott people are at number 3. Otherwise I would've put them at the bottom. Number six for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY! The "Beautiful" people! Usually they're beautiful because they don't know it. Otherwise, they're just hott.. Yes, my friend and I decided that if we put a few select beautiful people (that will not be named for our sake... haha) in the same room together, the universe will implode on itself and God would laugh because he knew that he does good work. I mean seriously.. c'mon.. you can't tell me that Milo Ventimiglia looks that way because random bacteria randomly started to form millions of years ago and then by luck beautiful people were created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/320/MiloVentimiglia_05.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT JUST DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So.. The number one group are called the "Model-Like." Again.. they usually know that they look much better than average and that can be annoying but you gotta give them props for being a step up from beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do these six categories have to do with anything? Well.. One, don't be too self-absorbed because it can be potentially harmful to yourself when it comes to making friends unless you fall in with an equally self-absorbed crowd, then you don't make friends for life, you make friends for now because "self-absorbed" means self-centered meaning that when it comes down to it, they will be thinking more about themselves than you.Two, I just thought it would be stupid to have a one without a two.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you have any thoughts on what I just wrote let me know. If you disagree... well.. I don't care, let me know how you think it should be arranged so I can laugh at you. No, that was a joke, I won't laugh at you. ha...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A good band you might think about checking out would not be Fall Out Boy but rather Copeland. They're a great band that could use a few more people listening to them here and there. And if you're interested in a sweet new band check out Flyleaf.. CRAZY band! way cool though, but I'm still getting into them. If I find out anything super sweet I'll definately write about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Peace out!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114680886878684316?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114680886878684316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114680886878684316' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114680886878684316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114680886878684316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-about-milo.html' title='What about Milo??'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114643935484647686</id><published>2006-04-30T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:08:27.628-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Back of My Brain'/><title type='text'>Bathroom Bonding</title><content type='html'>This is dedicated to the randomness inside. I wrote this once and then the window got closed.. this one isn't as funny.. but I'll try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I highly suggest that if you are having troubles with your girlfriends take some time to bond in the bathroom. I found out how effective this method is today during church.. Ha.. that's right Tom, the secret world of the bridge girls revealed.. at least a little.&lt;br /&gt;Today was a weird day. Some of us girls just weren't getting along today despite the breakfast we had together this morning. It was just kind of hard to focus on what was going on at church rather then our problems. So while Tom was preaching, I had to go to the bathroom and then my friend came in and we started talking... and about ten minutes later another friend came in and the three of us talked for another ten minutes until another friend came in.. And we talked until church was over.. Just the four of us.. sitting in the bathroom.. bonding. Isn't it random how girls always go to teh bathroom to talk? You'd think they'd figure out that the acoustics are better so the sound can really travel when you're in there.. So for about 45 minutes to an hour we just sat in the bathroom talking about the most random things and afterwards we all felt so much better. I think I'll write a self-help book about it and make alot of money off of it now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I love the song "Swing Life Away" by Rise Against. Me and a friend were talking about it and I brought up the thought that I'd totally put it in my wedding.. Ha.. well.. apparently some people may be offended by it (only those with dirty minds) because of one line in the song. Of course, I laughed at that concept saying "Who cares! I'll be married! It's my wedding anyways!" I love it. you can listen to it at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics:&lt;br /&gt;Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?&lt;br /&gt;Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?&lt;br /&gt;Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll show you mine if you show me yours first&lt;br /&gt;Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse&lt;br /&gt;Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live on front porches and swing life away,&lt;br /&gt;We get by just fine here on minimum wage If love is a labor&lt;br /&gt;I'll slave till the end, I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move&lt;br /&gt;The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon&lt;br /&gt;Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got some friends, some that I hardly know&lt;br /&gt;But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world&lt;br /&gt;We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live on front porches and swing life away,&lt;br /&gt;We get by just fine here on minimum wage&lt;br /&gt;If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,&lt;br /&gt;I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand....until you hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll show you mine if you show me yours first&lt;br /&gt;Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse&lt;br /&gt;Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live on front porches and swing life away,&lt;br /&gt;We get by just fine here on minimum wage&lt;br /&gt;If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,&lt;br /&gt;I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swing life away [x4]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of best friends. And my mom always tells me to marry my best friend... So there you go, if you don't like it, you don't have to come.. Unless your name is Tom. Then you're required to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Elyon is the Hebrew name of God meaning "most high". I love it. and I love Ted Dekker's books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I want a tattoo of Elyon in Hebrew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Bradley Hathaway is way to cool for you... But listen to "the boobie poem" at &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;friendID=4757847"&gt;http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendID=4757847&lt;/a&gt;. it'll be awkward... no doubt about that. But if you've been keeping up with my blogs you'll know that it's worth it in the end. have fun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I don't find it weird that guys wear girl pants.. I like it. Don't hate cause you're homophobic. Just because a guy wears girl pants, doesn't mean he's gay.. Alot of them aren't. So calm yourself down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm thinking about getting my lip pierced. sweeeet....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go. A few random thoughts for you..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114643935484647686?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114643935484647686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114643935484647686' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114643935484647686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114643935484647686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/bathroom-bonding.html' title='Bathroom Bonding'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114643225307873660</id><published>2006-04-30T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T22:22:19.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>www.thebradley.net</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/ilovebradley.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;MORE MORE MORE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 99px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="107" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/320/msnbradley3.jpg" width="146" border="0" /&gt;More Bradley for you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favorite poems of Bradley Hathaways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mainly because it's the first one i had ever heard, and then because it's halariously beautiful, if that makes any sense to you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the link to the video: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.relevantbooks.com/splashes/bradley/commercial.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;http://www.relevantbooks.com/splashes/bradley/commercial.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And here are the words... no need for me to analyze it for you, it's pretty self explainatory. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;u&gt; Manly Man &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I don't wany my long hair&lt;br /&gt;Pretty green eyes with&lt;br /&gt;NO I DO NOT HAVE ON MASCARA&lt;br /&gt;Eyelashes&lt;br /&gt;Skinny Figure&lt;br /&gt;Undersized t-shirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Hips shake too much when I walk&lt;br /&gt;Confuse anybody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I AM A MANLY MAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Within this sissy frame&lt;br /&gt;Obvioudly rib laden chest&lt;br /&gt;Lies a heart&lt;br /&gt;That BEATS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;to the drum of a&lt;br /&gt;Native American ritual dancing&lt;br /&gt;WILDNESS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;It PUMPS an evercascarding supply of untamedness&lt;br /&gt;that a heard of wild mustangs have yet to grasp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;If DANGER lurks about I will seek it out.&lt;br /&gt;If adventure abounds there I will be found.&lt;br /&gt;If a damsel be in distress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I will show her who is best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I AM A MANLY MAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;because I DON'T FLUSH&lt;br /&gt;and I leave the lid up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I drive a nineteen&lt;br /&gt;eighty eight&lt;br /&gt;Ford PICK-UP truck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;GIRLS DON'T BREAK UP WITH ME&lt;br /&gt;I break up with THEM!&lt;br /&gt;except the last time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I DON'T SHAVE THE HAIR ON MY FACE&lt;br /&gt;(because I still can't grow facial hair yet..&lt;br /&gt;but when I CAN I won't.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;FART&lt;br /&gt;BURP&lt;br /&gt;SPIT&lt;br /&gt;WHEN I WANT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Not caring who is nearby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;DISRESPECT my MOMMA&lt;br /&gt;and I will punch you in the eye!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I AM A MANLY MAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;OR AM I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I TELL MY guy friends I love them.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I even hug them.&lt;br /&gt;Not because I'm gay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;BUT because I LOVE THEM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;When I watched "Bambi"&lt;br /&gt;I cried&lt;br /&gt;WHEN MY MEMA GETS MAD&lt;br /&gt;I still run and hide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;LIKE DAVID I WANT TO BE A MAN AFTER GOD'S OWN HEART&lt;br /&gt;I'm not there yet but past the start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And when people talk&lt;br /&gt;I try to listen&lt;br /&gt;A SPIRIT OF COMPASSION&lt;br /&gt;that's my vision.&lt;br /&gt;Surely I am a Manly man&lt;br /&gt;I WANT TO BE LOVED&lt;br /&gt;and have love&lt;br /&gt;AND GIVE LOVE&lt;br /&gt;(not ust that romantic kind either)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;ALTHOUGH I AM LOOKING FOR THAT BEAUTY&lt;br /&gt;NOT HELPLESS&lt;br /&gt;But wants to be rescued.&lt;br /&gt;The damsle in distress&lt;br /&gt;MAN&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;MYTH&lt;br /&gt;TRUE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I WILL FIGHT FOR HER.&lt;br /&gt;CLIMB THE HIGHEST TOWER FOR HER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVER HER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHARE with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DELIGHT IN HER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be her WARRIOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HER PROTECTOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;SHE WILL BE MY CROWN&lt;br /&gt;and I will be hers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;MY MASCULINITY WILL BE PASSED DOWN&lt;br /&gt;AND AFFIRMED TO MY SONS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each of my daughters will know they are LOVED&lt;br /&gt;and deserving of authentic romance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;SOCIETY TELLS ME&lt;br /&gt;ALL DAY LONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;THAT I HAVE DEFINED MANHOOD&lt;br /&gt;COMPLETELY WRONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;BUT YOU ASK and honest man and he will agree&lt;br /&gt;YOU ASK any honest woman and she too will see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;THAT I AM A MANLY MAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114643225307873660?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114643225307873660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114643225307873660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114643225307873660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114643225307873660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/wwwthebradleynet.html' title='www.thebradley.net'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114629482142807185</id><published>2006-04-28T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:09:31.521-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>The Annoying Hardcore - Bradley Hathaway</title><content type='html'>So Bradley Hathaway is a young guy who writes poetry and then performs them in between hardcore bands or does random "house tours" where he just goes into people's homes, sets up like 30 chairs and performs his poetry.. But he's not just any ol' poet. His stuff at first comes off somewhat humorous but then, at the very end, it slaps you in the face with something amazing. The first poem I heard of his is called manly man. Actually.. I watched a video of him reciting it. you can watch it at &lt;a href="http://www.relevantbooks.com/splashes/bradley/commercial.htm"&gt;http://www.relevantbooks.com/splashes/bradley/commercial.htm&lt;/a&gt; .... You must watch it all the way through though, or else it has no impact. But the one that I am going to talk about is called "The Annoying Hardcore". It gives a flawless portrayal of hardcore kids.. so if you don't know what they are just keep on reading and by the end you'll know them inside and out, literally. Cause that's what Bradley Hathaway's poems are all about. They go from the surface to the root.. or from the outside in. The reason I found this poem so interesting is because one of my friends used to be hardcore and this described him perfectly. So here you go... The annoying hardcore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM HARDCORE! I WILL WINDMILL KICK YOU IN THE FACE! EVERYBODY BACK UP make a circle, lets destroy this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the lights are low and i'm about to go OFF. here comes the break down.. KARATE CHOP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;raise up your arms, make an X if you're down. me and my crew, we own this stinkin town. watch out for my fist, your face it will kiss on purpose. i'm tough and i'm ticked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't slow dance, i don't salsa dance. forget the tango i don't slam dance you idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM HARDCORE. on the floor i'm the man you've never seen before. when the drummer yells GO, its my time to blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in between songs i yell at all of the bands cause i don't care what they have to say. i'm not here to learn anything anyway. i'm here to dance in the zone in a trance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't smoke cigarettes... but if she's willing i'll drop my pants. promiscuous i am but i'm vegan, i don't eat meat or any of that stuff because its bad for you right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to save the animals i don't care about the sweat shop scandals i DO NOT shop at Hot Topic. I am not "mall core", i am HARDCORE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madball, Hatebreed, throw down in terror. i own them all on colored vinal, limited edition, and hand numbered. but you won't see me asking for no autographs cause i aint looking like to fool, i aint no pop culture tool. if they aint screamin, i aint listenin. if they aint got a blast beat i aint tappin my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i eat EMO PANSIES for BREAKFAST. and i give their little tee-shirts to my little sister so cry about you little messanger bag, purse carrying whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wear girl pants but i'm homophobic but the way i'm always huggin on my homeboys you sure wouldn't know it. i've had my ears stretched an inch since back in '96.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somebody told me that hardcore was a place to share what you believed. but i didn't like what dude said so i flipped him off and told him to leave. i'm mad at society cause my parents won't buy me a new computor, eventhough i asked politely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my playsation 2 is broken BUT my X BOX works. when that breaks though something is gunna HIT THE FAN and i'll express myself with RAGE AND ANGER just like a MAN cause thats how its done right? you get mad and start a fight right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i may, i think i might take my INSECURITIES out on that punk in the put tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause really i am just insecure and more than that i'm kinda scared and i'm hurting inside. and i don't know how to deal with it. i don't know what being a man means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought acting TOUGH was the way to go but..now that i think about it, i'm, i'm EMO..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-more bradley hathaway to come..-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114629482142807185?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114629482142807185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114629482142807185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114629482142807185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114629482142807185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/annoying-hardcore-bradley-hathaway.html' title='The Annoying Hardcore - Bradley Hathaway'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114599858465397052</id><published>2006-04-25T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:09:48.488-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Light'/><title type='text'>Eyes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eyes5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/320/eyes5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Why are so many people fascinated with eyes??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;How is this that a person's eyes can show so much expression?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;How can a person's eyes have such an effect on you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;You can always tell when two people are in love (or like each other very much for the younger crowd) when they can't stop looking into each other eyes. Be it up close and pesonal or acros the room. For some reason, it just always happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Ezekiel 10:12&lt;br /&gt;Their whole body, their backs, their hands, their wings and the wheels were full of &lt;strong&gt;eyes&lt;/strong&gt; all around, the wheels belonging to all four of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Why? I don't know, I just have always thought that it was cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Matthew 6:22,23&lt;br /&gt;"The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your &lt;strong&gt;eye&lt;/strong&gt; is clear, your whole body will be full of light. But if your &lt;strong&gt;eye&lt;/strong&gt; is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Have your parents ever told you, "garbage in, garbage out"? Well, basically, they jacked it from Jesus. A good source to get it from.. I don't know, I'd listen to Him. But seriously now, that's basically what he said. That's why our eyes can be so expressive. Our emotions show through for everyone to see.. Most everyone, some people are just clueless to that kind of thing, but don't worry, they'll come down out of their high soon. The drugs never last as long as you think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;So, that basically explains my fascination with eyes. Just remember that what ever you put in, comes out. That's the motto for the human body.. eye's are no exception. So make sure you know what you're "feeding" your eyes because you can't see anything in the darkness..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And check out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prophetik.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;www.prophetik.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;They have &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; coolest shirts ever.. Including one about eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eyes4.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eye.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eye.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eye2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114599858465397052?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114599858465397052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114599858465397052' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114599858465397052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114599858465397052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/eyes.html' title='Eyes...'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114593862739240022</id><published>2006-04-24T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:13:04.318-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'> fronts </title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I couldn't get the video on here so go to the link and watch the video before you finishing reading this or the rest won't make too much sense...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=647833915&amp;amp;n=2"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=647833915&amp;amp;n=2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Blindside, ladies and gentlemen...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;First of all.. I ask you to simply watch the video. It may not be your "style" of music, but try to be gracious because there is a point that I'm going to make with it. I think you can take 4 minutes of your life to at least grant me this one thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;So, this song (as christian, the singer, says) is in swedish so you may not get the full impact of the song until you read the lyrics. But first here's a little background on the band.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Blindside is a christian hardcore band from Sweden. Now, if you listened to the song you probably didn't realize it was Christian, mainly because you couldn't understand the words. (that'll be fixed if you keep reading) You also might have put a stereotype on it because of what it sounded like and because of what the guys in the band looked like? Yes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Ask yourself a question, just for your own self knowledge...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;What did you think the song was about just from the sound? (screaming, heavy guitars, and a little crazy drumming)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I've heard it described as "death to the world" "I hate everyone" "kill me now" music. Sure, every genre of music has some depressing music, but this band does not fit into that stereotype. Sorry guys, but if I were to describe Blindside to any christian, I'd have to label them as the worship music of the hardcore scene. Actually.. More like what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;So, now that you know some background along with my personal opinions in there, read the lyrics to this song.. maybe you'll see it in a different light afterwards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nara &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Hennes hjärta slog hårdare för varje sekund&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Skalet höll emot som aldrig förut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;En vägran till var allt detta har sin grund&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Skalet höll emot men stora bucklor buktar ut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Inte nu, kanske senare och aldrig förut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Som en blomma som aldrig slagit ut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Om en längtan som aldrig fött ett beslut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Om en längtan som aldrig tagit slut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Med fötterna så långt under markytan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Och ändå bärare av ett rotlöst hjärta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;För svårt att ta sig upp och ändå veta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Att skönhet kommer ur smärta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Och jag önskar jag kunde dra dig upp därifrån&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Men ingen annan utom den ende kan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Och jag önskar jag kunde dra dig upp därifrån&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Min tunga kan aldrig klä i ord att min låga är sann&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Och jag ska aldrig mer vara rädd att visa mig vek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Aldrig mer med hot försöka bevisa min kärlek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Så låt dig träffas i hjärtat låt det blöda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Om jag kunde skulle jag ta tillbaks de ord som var döda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Om hans liv fick bli din föda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Om ditt hjärta fick blöda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Försök inte vinna tid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;För jag ser ingenting av den varan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Trots att jag kommer att stå kvar där jag är&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Vilket val du än tar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Står jag kvar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Möt mig vid fridsfurstens fötter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Jag har ingenting utom det som är mina rötter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Möt mig på knä framför hans fötter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Now, if for some reason you never learned how to speak swedish in school, not to worry, I will provide you with the english translation. Fasten your seatbelts folks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Close &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Her heart was beating harder for every second&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;The shell was holding up like never before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;A refusal to where all this has it's foundation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;The shell hold up, but big dents bulge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Not now, maybe later and never before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Like a flower that never blossomed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;About a longing that never given birth to a decision&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;About a longing that never ended&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;With the feet so far below the ground surface&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And yet carrier of a rootless heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Too hard to get up and still knowing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;That beauty comes out of pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And I wish I could pull you up from there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;But no one else than The Only One can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And I wish I could pull you up from there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;My tongue can never dress in words that my flame is true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And I shall never again be afraid of showing my weak self&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Never again with threat try to prove my love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;So let yourself get hit in the heart, let it bleed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;If I could I would take back the words that were dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;If you could be fed through &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;His lifeIf your heart would bleed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Whatever choice you make I remain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Meet me at the feet of the Prince of Peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I have nothing except what are my roots&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Meet me on your knees before His feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Hmmm.. now doesn't it sound better to you?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Blindside is my most favorite band, ever. First I didn't know why, and then I read the lyrics to my favorite song. The verse that jumped out at me the most went like this: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Love is destructive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;For the ego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And Your voice is the only thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;That speaks rebelliously in this world of claiming your own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;There is no peace outside if there's nothing within&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Love is addictive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;For the spirit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;And Your voice whispers with a roar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;That fire rises up, refills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Place the right king on the throne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Who would've guessed that a band that most people can't understand because the guitars are turned up a little too much and the singer is actually screaming could be writing prophetic songs? I certainly didn't. I found myself listening to a song called "About a Burning Fire" every day on my way to school, instead of the typical worship music because everytime I'd listen to it, the tears would come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;But I wouldn't have guessed. Nope. When I was looking for the "death to the world" I got a little taste of another slice of prophetic worship. I love the randomness of God. You never know what you'll get 'hit' with next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114593862739240022?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114593862739240022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114593862739240022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114593862739240022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114593862739240022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/fronts_24.html' title='&lt;s&gt; fronts &lt;/s&gt;'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114550985474442972</id><published>2006-04-19T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:10:39.663-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Light'/><title type='text'>I would've blindfolded Him....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/1600/mark_14-65[1].gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/717/2663/320/mark_14-65%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I watched The Passion of the Christ for the first time last friday and in my mind I was constantly hit with the question, "How could they have looked into His eyes and not known?" I just didn't understand it. And then, I found this little cartoon by a guy named Joe McKeever. Actually, I read one of my friend's blog and she had a link upto it so I decided to check it out. Not sure how I actually got to this particular cartoon, but I did.. I'm sure glad someone else had the same question as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, you know how you can look into someone's eyes and can just kind of tell what kind of person they are? I mean, you don't have to be an expert to do it. It's like when you meet someone for the first time you look in their eyes and either immediately get this feeling like "oo.. creepy" or like "oh.. nice". Yeah, I know you know. (Big brother is watching.. I always found that show slightly disturbing...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how did those soldiers not realize who they were killing? I mean, it was by God's grace that they didn't know what they were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace:&lt;br /&gt;3. generosity of spirit: a capacity to tolerate, accommodate, or forgive people&lt;br /&gt;7. gift of God to humankind: in Christianity, the infinite love, mercy, favor, and goodwill shown to humankind by God&lt;br /&gt;8. freedom from sin: in Christianity, the condition of being free of sin, e.g. through repentance to God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took those from the dictionary on Encarta. (Props to the Ancarta folks! You get 7 points for those answers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's by God's grace anything happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One personal example (I have many) took place a few weeks ago. Finals week to be precise. Well, for this story to make sense, you'll have to know that I am a female and with the female gender comes that one week out of the month where the female will engage in a slighty displeasing manner. So basically, since this isn't the animal channel, and no, I do not support PETA (just wanted that out there), I'll tell it like it is. I had both finals on the same day and when I got to school, I started getting cramps. They weren't so bad, so I thought I could live with it. (If you're a guy, you have no idea what I'm talking about but keep reading it'll start to make sense.) Well, I get through my first class and I get to my next Final (psychology, the one that &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;counted) and my cramps are unbearable to the point of passing out. But I think, "this is the worst part, it'll get better now." It didn't. It got worse. So while I'm trying to focus classical conditioning, I'm also trying not to pass out or throw up on the person sitting in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came down to it, I left within 45 minutes of a 2 hour final. I turned in my test without saying a word of what was going on to my prof. and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first encounter of God's grace was on my way to the car.. He was the only reason I even made it to my car. The second was that my aunt happened to live 30 seconds away &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;came to drive me to her house until I felt better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the good part...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I knew that I completely bombed my entire test. I couldn't even remember what was on it and I was heartbroken because nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I'm usually a good test taker and can bluff my was through an essay like nobody's business.. a true car salesman so to speak. I had no choice but to beg my prof. to let me finish my test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then next day I went to his office (thank you Jesus that he was actually there) and I explained what had happened, tears and everything, eventhough I promised myself I wouldn't cry. So he got my test out.. looked it over.. and said, "Why don't I just give you a new one.." and with that he ripped up my old one and took me to the testing room. Grace. In just a few seconds I had gone from complete anxiety to total peace. The test ended up being a cake walk, and Mr. Taff will always be remembered in my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOO YEAH WOO YEAH WOO YEAH! I think it's something to cheer for.. Go ahead.. yell a little.. get crazy! YEAHHHHH!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114550985474442972?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114550985474442972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114550985474442972' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114550985474442972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114550985474442972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-wouldve-blindfolded-him.html' title='I would&apos;ve blindfolded Him....'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25484031.post-114427067596919714</id><published>2006-04-05T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:11:29.723-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>"Over the Pond"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Recently I found this amazing band called The Album Leaf. I had heard one of their songs while i was watching a Nooma video. (If you haven't heard of Nooma, i would highly suggest watching one... but I'll probably post about those later.) I had no idea what the words were, and I had no idea how to find out who this band even was. A little while after hearing them, I totally forgot about the whole thing. And then, about a week ago, I was on Nooma's website and saw that they were releasing a sound track that was comprised of several different songs that have been in their video's. Of course, I was excited because Nooma plays the best Indie bands that absolutely no one had heard of. So I checked out the band list that was really about 3 bands: Brie Stoner, David Vandervelde, and, of course, The Album Leaf... Too bad the Album Leaf just released a record from Sub Pop Records so they weren't featured on the cd. But I did find out that the song that I had heard was called "Over the Pond". So immediately I searched the web and somehow ended up downloading the song to iTunes on accident from the Sub Pop website... sometimes accidents are a good thing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to this song for probably an hour, over and over and over again. I couldn't figure out the words though. I mean, I can usually figure out the words to most screamo songs so I thought that a soft indie song wouldn't be too hard. Come to find out that that song doesn't have any words in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true, there aren't any written lyrics for it. All it is, is a nicely played piano and some cool background effects paired with two guys singing non-existant words. More like sounds that are all in the same key. I found this absolutely amazing. I was so drawn to this song for some reason, and I had no clue what it was. It's a very peaceful song, it almost has a healing quality to it... and yet, most people would reject it because it's out of the "norm". Why is that? (More about this topic to follow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I listen to "Over the Pond", I feel so at peace. This song is one of the ultimate forms of expression and creativity. Alot of the time I feel like I can't put my feelings into words so I try to paint them or draw them out, but some of the time I don't feel like I've fully grasped what I had been thinking or what I had felt. Could it be that I have yet to unlock another form of expression? I hope so. I hope that The Album Leaf will be recognized for their great creativity. Many people will reject something because they don't understand it, or because they aren't used to it. I see it at Art Shows all the time. Just remember one thing the next time you see a piece of artwork or hear a song that doesn't sound like your regular Simple Plan song (not that I like them anyways, but I needed an example.), it's not always about talent. Some times people need to express their feelings in different ways. Next time you see a piece of art that you don't like or you think that the arist "lacks talent" so therefore, it's crap, ask yourself if you could've created the same thing if you just sat down and went for it.. Could you have come up with something that different? If you say no, then you have no room to criticize it. On the contrary, try to look at things in a different way and try to enjoy a new point of view every once in a while. It'll be like a thunderstorm after a long dry-spell.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#66cccc;"&gt;peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25484031-114427067596919714?l=elyon444.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/feeds/114427067596919714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25484031&amp;postID=114427067596919714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114427067596919714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25484031/posts/default/114427067596919714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elyon444.blogspot.com/2006/04/over-pond.html' title='&quot;Over the Pond&quot;'/><author><name>Emily C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07645342576861942841</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m116/elyon444/100_1882e.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
