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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden</id>
  <title>Mind Garden</title>
  <subtitle>Mind Garden</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Mind Garden</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-03-04T19:19:51Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="150575" username="mindgarden" type="community"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:36891</id>
    <author>
      <name>The Anonymous Girl</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="theanonymousgrl" userid="14988844"/>
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    <title>mindgarden @ 2008-03-04T14:19:00</title>
    <published>2008-03-04T19:19:51Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-04T19:19:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Add me to your friends, come follow my journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where it all comes together. This is where I can tell you, in secrecy, the way my mind works. The way my life twists and turns, just like everyone else's. The way I dig myself into holes so deep that I'm fucked with finding a way to get out. I want to help. I want to help you relate. I want to help myself understand. I am a daughter, a sister, a best friend, a worst enemy, and the one you can never let go of. Please give me a chance. This is my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:36796</id>
    <author>
      <name>Danielle Ryder</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="mousepoo" userid="4781604"/>
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    <title>Road Spent</title>
    <published>2008-02-24T00:43:22Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-24T00:43:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I could stand to be alone&lt;br /&gt;for some time&lt;br /&gt;Lose myself in white noise&lt;br /&gt;slip into the blur&lt;br /&gt;contemplate the color yellow&lt;br /&gt;Right now&lt;br /&gt;I just can't handle splashes to well&lt;br /&gt;Or too many teeth&lt;br /&gt;around me all at once&lt;br /&gt;armed like guns with something to say&lt;br /&gt;Urgent wispers&lt;br /&gt;hoarse restraint&lt;br /&gt;Quiet as paper cuts&lt;br /&gt;people steal me away&lt;br /&gt;cart off my flesh in tiny crimson piles&lt;br /&gt;my bones have been sore&lt;br /&gt;Rattling in their anemic cage&lt;br /&gt;ravens circling&lt;br /&gt;my heart beating&lt;br /&gt;it's-time to-go it's-time to-go&lt;br /&gt;someplace full of surf&lt;br /&gt;full of flat blue sky&lt;br /&gt;full of shuuushhh</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:36532</id>
    <author>
      <name>The Anonymous Girl</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="theanonymousgrl" userid="14988844"/>
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    <title>mindgarden @ 2008-02-22T13:52:00</title>
    <published>2008-02-22T18:53:44Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-22T18:53:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;Add me to your friends, follow my journey. I want you to know me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where it all comes together. This is where I can tell you, in secrecy, the way my mind works. The way my life twists and turns, just like everyone else's. The way I dig myself into holes so deep that I'm fucked with finding a way to get out. I want to help. I want to help you relate. I want to help myself understand. I am a daughter, a sister, a best friend, a worst enemy, and the one you can never let go of. Please give me a chance. This is my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:35916</id>
    <author>
      <name>Lanyel</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="lanyel" userid="14669096"/>
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    <title>Prepare to live an amazing life.</title>
    <published>2008-02-19T03:28:28Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-19T03:28:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If you could trust a stranger with your life, would you? If i walked up right now to you and told you that i could show you something, something that would take some time, some self-practice, and exploration, and a belief in yourself, and nothing else, but in return i would give you a real chance to change your entire life into the best version that it could be, would you walk away without taking a peek?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target='_blank' href='http://www.universallawstoday.com/secret.html' rel='nofollow'&gt;http://www.universallawstoday.com/secret.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine on lj gave me a link to a video, which is the online version of the secret, the book that was on oprah. I had seen the book, and i believed it, but i did not work with it that much. Then i practiced it some, i saw the video, and i was so very inspired.&lt;br /&gt;And life became magical, easy, beautiful, wonderful, relaxed, stress free, inspiring, amazing, and then i thought to myself. &lt;br /&gt;I want to teach other people this, or direct them to the best resource i found from someone else so they too could experience this.&lt;br /&gt;Then there's resistance, i wanted to teach this to my parents, then i thought, no, maybe they won't like it, and then i said, who cares, if i can teach them this, especially to my father, then he'll experience a life as energetic as carefree and as happy as i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then i thought, i want to inspire others, and i had that same resistance. And i sent them an email - which i'll include below because i thought, if you cannot share with the people you love most something that has completely redirected your life, from misery to excessive happiness, and if you can't do that, then what is the point of living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, i was inspired, if i did this with friends, why not to complete strangers, why not to the world. I don't have to spam every persons email in the world, just to touch people in a large community of people and see if in a short period of time they have inspiring stories.&lt;br /&gt;And so i decided, to share this website, my email, and if you like in the future, tips of what has worked with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had amazing experiences, i feel like i've been touched by god or have that connection, and i'm not religious.&lt;br /&gt;I feel happy, energetic, and i believe everyone who reads this, watches the video, and practices and experiments with what the video says can also achieve a revolution in their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It gives me great pleasure to write you this and yes, it will be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing to you because something amazing has happened to me, and you are one of the first people i thought of that i wanted to share it with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You already have experienced this,  &lt;br /&gt;And i want to help you keep it up 100% of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, go to this website, watch the movie, try out the suggestions, really try them and experiment with them, ask me for tips if it isn't working for you.&lt;br /&gt;And prepare to be amazed and to live an absolutely magical life, for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target='_blank' href='http://www.universallawstoday.com/secret.html' rel='nofollow'&gt;http://www.universallawstoday.com/secret.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make it work, you have to do several things.&lt;br /&gt;The first is basically to raise your energy level consciously. That means, make yourself extremely happy, grateful, if you are having a bad day, thank the world for something, be it your heart, amazing art work, your family, friends, shoes, anything and everything!&lt;br /&gt;I do that everytime i wake up.&lt;br /&gt;And hold that happiness in your heart and let it grow and be completely positive.&lt;br /&gt;Be nice and bless everyone, how you treat others probably determines your energy level (but you already are nice so you shouldn't have a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, think about what you want.&lt;br /&gt;Be it money, love, or a parking spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visualize what you want and hold that image in your mind for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask for it, tell to the universe out loud or in your mind, I am grateful for receiving ___________ - or thank you universe/god for bringing this to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the universe worry about how it will get the specific something to you, just be happy, grateful, and receptive to getting it.&lt;br /&gt;If you ask for perfect love, and then always mention to your friends, i'm so bad in relationships, it won't come true, so you have to kindof watch your words.&lt;br /&gt;If you ask for something, you'll attract it as much as if you asked for something not to happen.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want a car crash = car crash&lt;br /&gt;I want to arrive home safely = arrive home safely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i covered the basics, &lt;br /&gt;and believe me, i've been completely different, energized, happy, off the wall happy, and so many amazing things have happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;As i hope they will happen to you.&lt;br /&gt;Dream, ask, receive, love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, you can ask for things as they are happening or need something done - i.e, thank you for helping me find the clothespins i need (i found them right away and i didn't know they'd be there. - Or, let my mom be happy about how well the telephone call went,... &lt;br /&gt;play around with it, you'll have fun, and spread it to others after you make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is about being an energized person, of bringing good to your world, and to the rest of your world. By being happy, nice, and inspiring to others, we make the world a better place. Personal experiences so far have included working hard and loving it, being loving to my family, being worry and stress free, being inspired, getting life's events to line up positively, and healing emotional wounds. &lt;br /&gt;I'm a better person for this, and i look forward to seeing more of you on this ride of life with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have everything to gain&lt;br /&gt;With best wishes, blessings and love&lt;br /&gt;Philipp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be an observer and note taker. If i found something interesting i'd try it and most of the time i would just note it down without passing it down. I thought about doing that too with the secret and the video of it i found online...&lt;br /&gt;and then i saw the amazing changes in my life.&lt;br /&gt;And i decided, why? Why hide? If you don't like it, maybe you'll say nothing, maybe something, or maybe you'll thank me for directing you to a source that was able to improve your life. I want to inspire the world, like the world has inspired me. I don't have to invent something new, something original, i just have to direct people to the same thing that amazed and inspired me and has made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;And see if more of the same happiness fires start in other people's lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, after i learned how to do this, all of this i accomplished in the last week, consistantly.&lt;br /&gt;I thought to myself, if i've felt this way for 7 days, how will i feel about it for 7 weeks, 7 months, 7 years, or even 70 years.&lt;br /&gt;And i said, i look forward to it. Really try it, it will be the best choice you ever made.&lt;br /&gt;Love you, bless you, whoever you are, prepare for one wild exciting ride.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:35530</id>
    <author>
      <name>ai_paulina</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="ai_paulina" userid="14421605"/>
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    <title>mindgarden @ 2007-12-08T23:24:00</title>
    <published>2007-12-09T04:24:59Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-09T04:42:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I am at the close of my first semester as an art student and feel as though my view of art has become unjustly negative.&amp;nbsp; The last few months have been intense -- magnified like a pressure-cooker by the startling revelation of Martin Beck, a graduate alumni at my school who stated that, &lt;b&gt;"those for whom art is their life become extremely dull."&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; I'm beginning to question whether art is really the noble pursuit that it appears to be.&amp;nbsp; I began to think that perhaps art is full of the same paradoxes as life.&amp;nbsp; More specifically,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt; that who enter college as artists, only to change their major in the course of time are the ones who preserve the basest form and enjoyment of art.&amp;nbsp; It's the ones who continue in the art profession who ultimately sell out -- not because they're corrupt or even because they're jaded (although that tends to happen anyway) -- but because they're forced to sell themselves to make a living.&amp;nbsp; The once pure and unadulterated passion becomes tarnished, and that is inevitable when you make a living doing what you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The following is a conversation I had with a friend over lunch.&amp;nbsp; A little armchair economics minus the economics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold; font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What is Art?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Defining something that doesn't make sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Art as a Metaphor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is creative bullshit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is aesthetically pleasing crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contemporary art is glorified crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Performance art is an excuse for exhibitionists to strip naked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is an inventive channel to express everything that does not belong with common sense.&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Miscellaneous Art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like an itch that won’t go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like Vaseline.&amp;nbsp; When you put it on, it sticks to everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like a black pawn that wants to be white.&amp;nbsp; No matter what color it is, it’s still a pawn and it’s still going to get trashed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Art as Food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like bread.&amp;nbsp; They can be white, brown, or yellow, but when you put them in the toaster, they all get burned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like an unkosher dumpling.&amp;nbsp; It’s thin and delicate on the outside, but inside it’s just vulgar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Art as Sex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like going out at night looking to get laid.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes you don’t.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like prostitution.&amp;nbsp; The most successful artist has mastered the art of selling herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like having sex when your brain has turned to mush.&amp;nbsp; It doesn’t take any intelligence to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art is like a Las Vegas prostitute: a luxury you can't afford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art is like a whore that has reached her prime: it becomes cheapened over time.&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Art as a Lesson in Futility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Art is like an addict coming out of an ether binge.&amp;nbsp; Any effort to resist is futile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Contemporary art is like counting the hairs on your head.&amp;nbsp; It’s (f******) pointless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real art is like counting the hairs on your head.&amp;nbsp; It’s (f******) impossible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:35122</id>
    <author>
      <name>pessimist40</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="pessimist40" userid="13621040"/>
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    <title>new person</title>
    <published>2007-08-18T00:54:24Z</published>
    <updated>2007-08-18T00:54:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm new to this group and I am announcing my arrival, I have a lot of philosophies but mainly I am looking for a group to commisserate with when I'm depressed and lonely.&amp;nbsp; in the mean time I will show up here from time to time to discuss my "out on the fringe" philosophies.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:34808</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written October 10, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2007-01-24T18:48:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-24T18:48:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2007/01/24/written-october-10-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2007/01/24/written-october-10-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comments are enabled on this post, but will be screened and cross-posted to the &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2007/01/24/written-october-10-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Over the past few days, I have been really upset.  The idea of my aunt dying is really taking a toll on my daily life.  Not that I want anything to happen to someone else, but my aunt happens to be my favorite relative.  What upsets me even more is what my father said the other day.  The man cannot come to grips with reality.  Everything just somehow always relates to God.  His sister is dying and he can still manage to say it is the will of God.  Just writing this down almost brings me to tears.  I am really confused.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2007/01/24/written-october-10-2003-by-matthew/#more-60" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:34389</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written October 4, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2006-12-29T19:01:14Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-29T19:01:14Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/12/29/written-october-4-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/12/29/written-october-4-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night, Katlyn and I went to the city to get some Italian food.  I cannot even remember the last time I went to an upscale restaurant.  Usually I would prefer Japanese food, especially sushi, but Katlyn seems to be a big fan of Italian.  I could tell how much she loved Italian food by the way she could pronounce everything on the menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/12/29/written-october-4-2003-by-matthew/#more-55" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:34124</id>
    <author>
      <name>Iris</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="iris_diaphanous" userid="11480591"/>
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    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://mindgarden.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=34124"/>
    <title>Merry Christmas</title>
    <published>2006-12-25T14:44:58Z</published>
    <updated>2006-12-26T10:27:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;u&gt;Christmas Morning &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;There are a thousand silver stars in the sky-- two-thousand in the snow,&lt;br /&gt;an irised moon flowers in the apple air &lt;br /&gt;as I sleep in a crystal dream-- &lt;br /&gt;flecks of gold ride on the sunlight &lt;br /&gt;as morning floods my house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" border="0" src="https://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y210/RainbowGossamer/4-2.jpg" fetchpriority="high" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Tree Wonderland:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:33652</id>
    <author>
      <name>Fleur Divine</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="fleur_divine" userid="7468275"/>
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    <title>A Faerie's Protest</title>
    <published>2006-10-28T23:06:11Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-28T23:06:11Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 216px; HEIGHT: 248px" height="308" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" width="252" border="0" src="https://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y210/RainbowGossamer/dandelion.jpg" fetchpriority="high" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;A Faerie's Protest &lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who says the moon is not my mother, &lt;br /&gt;or your garden not my bed? &lt;br /&gt;Who says the woods did not see me, &lt;br /&gt;when from its trees I fled? &lt;br /&gt;Who says my hair is not of the dandelions, &lt;br /&gt;or my cheeks not cherry red? &lt;br /&gt;Who says that I do not exist, &lt;br /&gt;who said?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:33369</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written September 22, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2006-09-28T01:42:51Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-28T01:42:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/26/written-september-22-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/26/written-september-22-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday, Katlyn and I spent the whole day together.  She said she wanted to do something different, so I decided to take her to a driving range.  Not only was it a way for us to try something new, but it also let me whack a couple of balls.  The driving range helped me get rid of some extra aggression and tension.  The only problem was I couldn't hit the damn things.  Half the time, my swing would miss everything except the air.  Katlyn was just as bad.  Most of the time, we would look up at each other and simply laugh at our futile attempts to drive the balls. Now I know for the next time not to buy the jumbo bucket of balls, it is way too many.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/26/written-september-22-2003-by-matthew/#more-43" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:33119</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written September 18, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2006-09-20T17:45:55Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-20T17:45:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/18/written-september-18-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/18/written-september-18-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I seriously have the worst luck ever. On Sunday night, I began to feel very ill.  I got a whole bunch of phone calls at 12am from friends and Katlyn wishing me a Happy Birthday.  Little did I know, my illness was going to become a horrible fever.  On Monday, my birthday, I woke up feeling the same.. I felt like complete shit.  That is exactly how things work for me, on my birthday, I get sick.  I have to laugh at the irony.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/18/written-september-18-2003-by-matthew/#more-41" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:33022</id>
    <author>
      <name>silent_lament79</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="silent_lament79" userid="11089500"/>
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    <title>mindgarden @ 2006-09-18T05:55:00</title>
    <published>2006-09-18T10:01:13Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-18T10:01:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="3"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Well, I'm new to LJ and this community, thought I'd introduce myself. My name's Chad, and I got issues. LOL! Don't we all?... But I'm not into writing about self-loathing, so don't worry, no whiney rhetoric from me. But I do like to speak my mind, and I felt this community was a cool place to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Here's a snippet from my journal, feel free to check out the rest of it if any of my ramblings appeal to you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; "Most people go through life never second guessing everything they know as their reality and accept the circumstances in their lives and push through every day like robots... better yet, slaves (to themselves as well as the social status quo)... too afraid to step outta line for fear of reprocussions or simply the unknown. Then every once in a great while they experience what is known as a "moment of clarity," where they step outside themselves and see their life, and perhaps life in general, in one fleeting moment of total comprehension. Realizing who they really are and where they stand in life. But that moment is too often short-lived and quickly forgotten. They go back to their hum-drum lives and never miss a beat..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; More where that came from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:32627</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written September 11, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2006-09-12T05:37:17Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-12T05:37:17Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/11/written-september-11-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/11/written-september-11-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was another great day with Katlyn.  During the entire psych class we passed notes to each other.  It reminded me of when I was young, like the children in elementary school and the way they pass their little love letters.   It was hard to concentrate in class because every time we passed a note, our hands would touch momentarily and she&amp;#8217;d look at me and smile.  I can&amp;#8217;t help but to smile back.  Her eyes are so beautiful and her smile is stunning.  She really blows me away.  I still have no clue what the lecture was about, but it is still my best class for the simple reason that she is there with me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/11/written-september-11-2003-by-matthew/#more-37" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:32359</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written September 9, 2003 by Matthew</title>
    <published>2006-09-10T05:27:08Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-10T05:27:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/09/written-september-9-2003-by-matthew/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/09/written-september-9-2003-by-matthew/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So my classes started yesterday, and at first it looked like it was going to be another shitty semester.  Out of the three classes, not even one of them seemed to spark the slightest interest in me.  It&amp;#8217;s kind of funny because I am taking a class on religion,  which right now seems to be one of my main interests.  The professor looked like a minister or something and spent the entire class talking about what it means to be spiritual.  I couldn&amp;#8217;t tell if he was teaching or preaching. I was so tempted to just start arguing and countering his beliefs. Either way, I&amp;#8217;m going to love arguing with him every week.  He has no idea what he is in for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/09/09/written-september-9-2003-by-matthew/#more-36" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:32053</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 31, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-09-01T15:57:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-01T15:57:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/31/written-august-31-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/31/written-august-31-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I went into my parents room to take my fathers bible.  I wanted to get some examples of three things I had written yesterday. As soon as I opened the bible, I remembered the flood and Noah&amp;#8217;s Ark.  God actually used a flood to destroy all the evil on Earth at the time.  He believed the world had become too corrupt and thought by destroying the world with floods, the world could begin again. That is a prime example of people personifying God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/31/written-august-31-2003-by-matt/#more-27" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:31936</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 30, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-31T07:37:20Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-31T07:37:20Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/30/written-august-30-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/30/written-august-30-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So it seems like everything in the house is finally starting to cool down. Yesterday, my father actually spoke to me a little bit. He asked me if I registered for my fall courses yet. So it kind of broke the ice between us. I am just happy that he actually said something to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I hung out at Johns&amp;#8217; house. We had a deep conversation about my father and his obsession with religion. I basically told him exactly why I can not deal with religion, and how bogus I truly think it is. I seriously could write a book on all the reasons why I believe it to be fake. I&amp;#8217;ve made a promise to myself that my next hobby I will concentrate on things other than &amp;#8220;the bitch.&amp;#8221; After everything she put me through, I still miss and adore her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/30/written-august-30-2003-by-matt/#more-26" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:31687</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 27, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-28T03:13:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-28T03:13:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/27/written-august-27-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/27/written-august-27-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It has been a while since I&amp;#8217;ve had any time to write.  I have been living between John and Mikes&amp;#8217; homes.  Things got real sour between my father and I.  A couple of days back, we got into the same usual fight that seems to occur everyday, him saying that I have been staying out too much and that I am losing control of my life.  It is easy for him to say because he has no clue how it truly feels to be in my position.  On top of everything, all he ever says to me is how important it is to have God in my heart and in my life.  This is the exact kind of shit I really do not want to hear.  It has gotten so repetitive that I ended up losing my nerve in front of him.  This time the fight got out of hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/27/written-august-27-2003-by-matt/#more-25" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;This journal was written by my friend Matt.  He has passed away since writing it and this project is to publish his writings to the world. To get a better understanding of the purpose this project, please read the &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/about" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;about section&lt;/a&gt; on the website.  Community owners, please &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/faqs" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;read this&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--John&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:31453</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 22, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-22T17:34:40Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-22T17:34:40Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/22/written-august-22-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/22/written-august-22-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dad is driving me up the wall.  It has come to the point where I don&amp;#8217;t even want to be home anymore.  I have been spending my time out of the house with my friends.  It&amp;#8217;s actually making things worse between me and him, but at the same time it is helping me avoid a confrontation.  I honestly don&amp;#8217;t care anymore.  Ever since Lisa and I separated, I really don&amp;#8217;t care about anything.  I have been spending a lot of my time doing two things: thinking or getting wasted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/22/written-august-22-2003-by-matt/#more-23" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:31011</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 19, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-22T00:44:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-22T02:20:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/19/written-august/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/19/written-august/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have been fighting with my parents non-stop. They are constantly on my ass. My dad keeps complaining. He says that I have been going out way too much. He acts like im a kid. Pisses me off so much. It is so embarrassing. A soon to be sophomore who is constantly bothered by his folks. No wonder I hate living in my house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/19/written-august/#more-21" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:30937</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 16, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-17T04:13:49Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-17T04:13:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/16/written-august-16-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/16/written-august-16-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I spent yesterday and today at my friend John&amp;#8217;s house. It was a great time.  He had a whole bunch of people over and we relaxed, went out to eat, then had a couple of drinks back at his house. It was a good way to keep my mind off things. I feel like the more I lounge around, the more horrible I feel. Keeping busy helps me to focus on other things. Plus, it feels good to be around my friends again. When I was with &amp;#8220;the bitch&amp;#8221; it was something that scarcely happened. That was one of the reasons why we probably fought a lot. I guess she just didn&amp;#8217;t give me enough room to be a guy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/16/written-august-16-2003-by-matt/#more-20" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:30709</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 14, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-14T22:12:22Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-14T22:12:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/14/written-august-14-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/14/written-august-14-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For some reason the power has been down all afternoon throughout the east coast.   Rumor has it there was some terrorist attack or something.  Who knows? With the world we live in now, it wouldn&amp;#8217;t be a big surprise.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I never realized how much we rely on electricity.  It practically runs everything I use.  It&amp;#8217;s actually sad.  I think it is a good thing that we&amp;#8217;ve had no power for awhile.  It will show people how lucky we are.  I guess what I am trying to say is that when you have something for such a long time, you begin to forget its importance.  We begin to take things for granted.  Kind of like &amp;#8220;the bitch&amp;#8221;.  She never really understood how much I loved her till now.  I&amp;#8217;m guessing not having me around to pamper her and show her my affection has helped her to see just how much I loved her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/14/written-august-14-2003-by-matt/#more-19" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:30363</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 13, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-14T03:18:25Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-14T03:18:25Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/13/written-august-13-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/13/written-august-13-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#8217;ve gotta figure this out&amp;#8230;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/13/written-august-13-2003-by-matt/#more-18" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;Please read the about section on the site to understand what this journal is all about.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--John&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:29981</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 11, 2003 by Matt</title>
    <published>2006-08-12T05:28:18Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-12T09:36:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/11/written-august-11-2003-by-matt/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/11/written-august-11-2003-by-matt/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday I woke up and got dressed to play some basketball with my friends.  After we finished, Mike told me the guys were going to head over to his house just to hang out.  I figured I would go just to keep myself busy.  After playing, I ate dinner and got ready to head over to Mikes&amp;#8217;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the middle of putting on my jeans, my phone rang.  It was &amp;#8220;the bitch&amp;#8221;.  I obviously didn&amp;#8217;t pick up.  Instead I kept on getting dressed until my phone made another noise.  I looked at it and I had a voice mail.  This was very different.  Out of all the times we have been apart she had never once left a voice mail, no matter how many times she called.  After listening to the voice mail I was in shock.  She was outside. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/11/written-august-11-2003-by-matt/#more-16" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:mindgarden:29758</id>
    <author>
      <name>Memories of Matt</name>
    </author>
    <lj:poster user="memoriesofmatt" userid="10851383"/>
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    <title>Written August 9, 2003 by Matt (Entry 2)</title>
    <published>2006-08-10T05:16:15Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-10T05:16:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;p style="border: 1px solid black; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Originally published at &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/09/written-august-9-2003-by-matt-entry-2/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Memories of Matthew&lt;/a&gt;. Please leave any &lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/09/written-august-9-2003-by-matt-entry-2/#comments" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;comments&lt;/a&gt; there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My hangover is finally starting to go away.  I spent the day just lying around the house.  After a night like that, it&amp;#8217;s understandable I wasn&amp;#8217;t in the mood to leave my room.  Even getting out of bed was a challenge.  I still think of Lisa constantly.   I talk to my friends all the time but I don&amp;#8217;t think they fully understand how I felt for her.  Their advice for me is to stop thinking about her and just move on.  I can&amp;#8217;t.  If it was that simple I would have done it weeks ago.  Im so confused.  I hate her but at the same time I cannot get her out of my mind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.memoriesofmatthew.com/2006/08/09/written-august-9-2003-by-matt-entry-2/#more-15" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;Read the rest of this entry &amp;raquo;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
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