<?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-1867413030986346751</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:30:23.094-08:00</updated><category term='Shame is the shadow of love'/><category term='check yo self'/><category term='Hey Mama Wolf'/><category term='strength    /strɛŋkθ'/><category term='Beautiful Strangers'/><category term='strength'/><category term='Bang bang'/><category term='strɛŋθ'/><category term='Thanks for your cooperation'/><category term='html explosion'/><category term='Through Being Cool'/><category term='postmodern pantomime'/><category term='Quedate Luna'/><category term='strenth] 1. &#x9;the quality or state of being strong; bodily or spiritually power; vigor.'/><category term='Mgmt'/><category term='All their broken hearts'/><category term='I can feel your pain in my bones'/><category term='Elige tu propia aventura'/><category term='strɛnθ/[strengkth'/><category term='sheshepretty'/><title type='text'>Communist Daughter</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-839152705205382687</id><published>2009-06-11T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T01:56:52.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Through Being Cool'/><title type='text'>Thereveda Tourism</title><content type='html'>"We are all brothers and sisters on an amazing journey &lt;br /&gt;through a constantly changing universe.  &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we feel pain.  Sometimes we are happy... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are our own masters.  &lt;br /&gt;We create our own fate, our own heaven and our own hell.  &lt;br /&gt;We create by the use of our intention and free will.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our human mind is always creating.  Our mental environment is our own responsibility...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May we all meet again&lt;br /&gt;free from suffering&lt;br /&gt;and laugh together at the past."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ines gave me a small book called Karma for Today's Traveler.  It's a very short and eloquent book by a Thereveda Buddhist that nearly had me converted by the end.  It broke down the concept of Karma very literally.  It shows the reader where Karma comes from and how you can set in motion events before you are even born.  I thought this a bit unfair at first, but after finishing the book I do not think I would contest that anything is unfair.  I feel content with anything and everything.  The lingering taste of meloncholy is still drifting in my cloud today.  My attachment to it, however, is waning.  Yesterday I heard someone talking about their lack of expectations and how it felt strangely like apathy, but it surely is not.  They felt, and I too agree, that a lack of expectations is a desired state of mind and a blessing if you can achieve to arrive at this place.  I wish I had more to do here sometimes.  I struggle with this feeling of laziness.  I get up, I take walks, I read books, I meditate, I shower I email friends, I work on new ideas to teach Estrella, I collect flowers.  I try to stay busy.  Maybe it is that I am doing these things alone that feels out of place.  Maybe the fact that no one is watching me do these things makes me question whether or not I am even doing them.  Maybe I am not as well adjusted to solitude as I thought.  I know it is something I generally want, but maybe I'm still not used to it.  Strange, that we can want something so badly, receive it and then be unprepared to handle it.  Selfishness.  Surely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have anything else to say.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The more she heard the less she spoke, the less she spoke the more she heard, Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-839152705205382687?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/839152705205382687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/thereveda-tourism.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/839152705205382687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/839152705205382687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/thereveda-tourism.html' title='Thereveda Tourism'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-2463919683374674468</id><published>2009-06-08T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T12:40:36.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='html explosion'/><title type='text'>Subterranean Homesick Alien Blues</title><content type='html'>I'm back.  Sorry I haven't updated for a while.  It's hard to share everything that is going here for me because this isn't a big sightseeing trip and most of the wonderful moments I am having are very personal and therefore difficult to share.  Conversations with strangers, my host mother and an old friend are journal worthy, but not public blog worth. ¿Entiendes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Germany was amazing.  I could not have asked for a better time.  I hadn't seen my friend Ines in 6 years so it was hard to know what to expect from our time together.  The last time we saw each other she came to visit me in California and I was not in the best of places.  I had told her via email that I was sober and that my life had changed dramatically from the last time I had seen her.  She has traveled a great bit since the last time I saw her and has also experienced many changes.  So I think that neither one of us had any idea of what to expect.  When I arrived in Berlin and saw Ines waiting for me at the gate I welled up with tears.  We were so close in high school and it was really heartwarming to see her face again.  It reminded me of how I was when I first lived in Texas: confused and young, but still a better version of the years to come.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really tired today and very homesick.  I know this sounds strange, but I miss my Peugeot most of all.  She is like my best friend.  I've made a lot of sober friends here in Madrid which has been amazing.  I went out some this weekend for the first time in this city and had a really great time dancing.  I keep leaving my camera at home so I haven't very many photos of Madrid, but I promise I will take some more soon.  In the mean time here are photos of Germany:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89977795898_583060898_2352655_6372741_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89977800898_583060898_2352656_7305252_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89977835898_583060898_2352661_3137390_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89977860898_583060898_2352665_7448198_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89977875898_583060898_2352667_4474511_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89977865898_583060898_2352666_4011510_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89977945898_583060898_2352679_7736254_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89978050898_583060898_2352696_5543880_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89978075898_583060898_2352700_1370940_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89978195898_583060898_2352721_891562_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=2352725&amp;l=54e65594f9&amp;id=583060898"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89978275898_583060898_2352734_2104832_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89982590898_583060898_2352792_3599871_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89982685898_583060898_2352808_2595409_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89982955898_583060898_2352852_5605078_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89983025898_583060898_2352864_6692066_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89983005898_583060898_2352860_1291560_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs107.snc1/4610_89983035898_583060898_2352866_2758889_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs087.snc1/4610_89983040898_583060898_2352867_3304771_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-2463919683374674468?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2463919683374674468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/subterranean-homesick-alien-blues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2463919683374674468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2463919683374674468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/subterranean-homesick-alien-blues.html' title='Subterranean Homesick Alien Blues'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-1771588045697930534</id><published>2009-05-28T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T03:04:42.232-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beautiful Strangers'/><title type='text'>Days 3, 4 and 5</title><content type='html'>So it´s been a few days.  I haven´t written anything, because frankly nothing super exciting has happened.  It´s been pretty normal life here in Spain, which is exactly what I wanted to see.  I got super lost on the metros last night, well not so much lost as missed my last train and had to head back into the city to take a bus home.  I called Carmen, my host mother, and she was very helpful in giving me directions to the bus station.  When I got off my train and got to the bus station she was there waiting for me, unexpectedly.  She had a good laugh at my expense.  I really like this woman.  I´m looking for the hidden treasures of this city.  Wandering around it is easy to find the tourist sites without any previous knowledge or much research about the city.  I ended up at Plaça del Sol a couple of days ago which is a huge shopping area in beautiful old buildings.  I went into H&amp;M for the first time and looked for some wild European shoes.  Didn´t really find anything.  Actually H&amp;M was a little unimpressive.  I´ve found a Spanish thrift store on the internet that I am going to today.  It is called Humana.  Also there are a couple other vintage stores and record stores I´m going to check out in the Malasaña district.&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://elviajero.elpais.com/recorte/20070804elpviavje_2/LCO340/Ies/pareja_pleno_barrio_madrileno_Malasana.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;This used to be where all the goths hung out in the 70´s and 80´s.  Now, I doubt there is much counter culture there.  At least there should be some more wicked graffiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estrella is very busy studying for her classes right now.  When I try to speak to her in English she seems kind of lost and distracted.  I told her I wasn´t trying to teach her anything new yet, I just wanted to practice with her.  Carmen, asked me last night if I would want to spend the rest of summer with them in Valencia.  Of course I would love to, but I have to get back to school.  Being here really makes me want to finish my classes so I can move on with the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´m leaving for Berlin this coming Saturday and will be gone for 6 days.  I wish I had left sooner, because as it is I am in dire need of some companionship.  The city is really beautiful and there are plenty of things to do, but after getting yourself lost in the museum  or arts district, Paseo del Prado, for about 3 hours you kind of wish you could be sharing these adventures with someone.  Or at least someone worthwhile.  I´ve met a few people here whose company I´ve really enjoyed, but life gets in the way of itself and most of these people have jobs or families: normal lives to attend to.  It´s hard to connect with people at a fifteen minute tea time.  I´ve been reading a lot and meditating as well.  So life is pretty great, just in a bit of a lull for now.  Well, I hope everybody is great in the states.  I feel like my blogs have turned a bit soft for now.  Keep checking back and I´should have something exciting in a little while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-1771588045697930534?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/1771588045697930534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/days-3-4-and-5.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/1771588045697930534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/1771588045697930534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/days-3-4-and-5.html' title='Days 3, 4 and 5'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-3621077563582049077</id><published>2009-05-24T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T04:18:49.234-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elige tu propia aventura'/><title type='text'>La Policia, Day 2 Madrid</title><content type='html'>¡Things are looking up!  I don´t think they were ever really looking down, but I was feeling very nervous about staying here with the family and how we would get along.  The family I am living with has had many young women come stay with them over the years and so they are very much accustom to cultural differences and are very understanding.  They like my tattoos and don´t mine me smoking cigarettes outside (two things I was very worried about).  Also, Estrella (my student)  is busy studying for exams until the 5th of June and so I am pretty much free to settle in and get to know life here until then.  This is also perfect because I am leaving for Berlin this coming Saturday and will return on the 5th of June.  In the meantime I can prepare my lesson plans and get to know Estrella´s level of English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Carmen, la madre, and I went to the theater with a couple from Argentina.  The musical was a satire on a very famous opera here in Madrid.  It was at a local theater here in the suburb of Rivas Vacia.  The couple from Argentina were very nice.  I understood them somewhat better than I understand Carmen because they do not speak with the Spanish lisp.  I love the Spanish accent but it is tiring to listen to.  I have to really listen intently to people when they speak, which is kind of a gift in itself, but it is difficult.  I am constantly translating everything into English in my head.  After a week or so of this I should start thinking in Spanish and (if I´m lucky) dreaming in spanish too. ¡Woo hoo!  These are the most difficult days, the first few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way home last night Carmen talked a lot about her friends and other immigrants to Spain and the difficulties they encounter.  Apparently there are many immigrants in Spain, about half of the population actually.  We talked about the economy some and about her now deceased husband.  I asked Carmen where she worked and she kind of laughed.  "Estoy la policia español."  No way, for real??  I was totally in shock.  She has worked for the Spanish police since 1970.  She used to work in the field but now she works at a desk.  This woman is totally amazing.  I wish you all could see the relationship she has with her daughters (there are two others whom do not live here).  Maybe because I come from a broken home it is more amazing to me.  Carmen is a rock for her family.  They are all so close.  A piece of me is jealous.  I am glad this is my family too if only for a month and a half.  As we pulled into the drive I asked her if it were permissable to smoke in the garden.  "Sí, espere no mariajuana?"  No way, this lady just asked me totally seriously if I were going to smoke pot in her yard?  No, I said "Solo tabac."  I couldn´t stop laughing.  I guess you had to be there, but it was pretty great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel pretty silly taking pictures of everything here, but I will take some of the house soon.  I am hoping I can go into the city sometime this evening.  Carmen has given me a curfew of eleven because this is when the metros stop running.  Also, I think she is nervous about letting me travel about alone.  Hopefully I can show her that I am intelligent enough to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all are well in the states wherever you may be reading this from.  ¡Ciao for now amigos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-3621077563582049077?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/3621077563582049077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-policia-day-2-madrid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/3621077563582049077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/3621077563582049077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-policia-day-2-madrid.html' title='La Policia, Day 2 Madrid'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-860278101868478124</id><published>2009-05-23T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T03:53:58.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Epiphany!</title><content type='html'>I just realized that I have invited many people to read this blog and have not explained the title of my blog to you, the reader.  The Communist Daughter is a song by a band called Neutral Milk Hotel and really has nothing to do with communism and everything to do with the life and attitude of a girl growing up in a communist country.  Please do not take offense to this title.  I am not a supporter of communism.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, phew now that that is cleared up we can continue...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-860278101868478124?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/860278101868478124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/epiphany.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/860278101868478124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/860278101868478124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany!'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-2849069872249185292</id><published>2009-05-23T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T04:39:13.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madrid, Day 1</title><content type='html'>I flew in from Barcelona yesterday.  Today is my first full day in Madrid.  The family I am staying with consists of two people, a mother and a daughter.  Carmen es la madre and Estrella es la hija.  Estrella is 16.  The language barrier is somewhat difficult, because although I speak a lot of Spanish, there are many things I do not understand and the people here speak extremely fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last night in Barcelona was absolutely amazing.  I hung out with a group of like 15 kids from all over Europe and the States whom were working as club and bar promoters to stay afloat.  We walked all around Las Ramblas until about 6am when the metro reopened and I could catch a ride back home.  I wish I could have stayed in Barcelona longer to get to know these kids more.  They were amazing and definitely my favorite part of Spain thus far.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep at like 7pm and slept until about 7am this morning.  Too much sleep.  I feel kind of strange now and I have to get into the groove of Madrid.  It is much easier in Barcelona because it is smaller and everything flows into itself.  The metro is more simple and being on my own I could do whatever I wanted when I wanted.  Now I am under the roof of Carmen and I have to respect her home and her wishes.  She is at work right now.  I imgaine we will talk about rules and expectations when she returns.  I am really nervous today because I am afraid that I will not live up to the expectations of the family.  I have to start working on my lesson plan and I´m not really sure where to begin because I do not know what Estrella´s level of English is.  I guess this is the challenge, right?  I feel like a little kid again.  I forgot about all my responsibilities for a few days having fun in Barcelona.  I forgot why I was here.  Although I had an amazing time my last couple nights before coming to Madrid, I think it is best if I forget it now so that I can press on and do what is needed of me.  What a hard thing to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4670/150/55/583060898/n583060898_2280173_4167351.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4670/150/55/583060898/n583060898_2280185_4929647.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4670/150/55/583060898/n583060898_2280186_6430532.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v4670/150/55/583060898/n583060898_2287594_1327356.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs092.snc1/4670_85206910898_583060898_2287612_392065_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-2849069872249185292?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2849069872249185292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/madrid-day-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2849069872249185292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2849069872249185292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/madrid-day-1.html' title='Madrid, Day 1'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-6937262869003666149</id><published>2009-05-21T02:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T02:38:38.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2, Sagrada Familia</title><content type='html'>Hola Chicos y Chicas.  This is going to be kind of short today.  Yesterday was exhausting.  I really thought I as going to expel jetlag by some mental force.  I figured I hardly sleep much as it is and my diet back home consists of a steady stream of energy drinks and cigarettes, so if I just keep up the pattern I ought to be great, right? As I discovered yesterday at about 5pm yesterday, my body is totally confused and my brain has little power to control.  It is a little difficult to maintain a positive mood when you feel this way, but it is difficult to not be totally stoked when you're chillin in BCN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went to a flea market called Els Encants east of the city, Pl de les Glories Catalanes.  It was pretty rad, except that we woke up pretty late and missed a lot of the vendors.  After that we went walked around the Sagrada Familia, which is a cathedral built by the famous architect Gaudi.  He died in 1926 and was unable to finish the project.  It's expected completion is 2030.  It is totally amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to the Parc Ciutatella and then walked round Las Ramblas.  I went to hang out with some friends of Bill for about an hour and then afterwards Leon and I went home.  We had wanted to go out dancing, but by the time 9pm rolled around we were exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having some trouble posting photos today.  If you can, here is a link to my facebook album from Spain and the last few days in Denton.  Hopefully everyone can see it: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=94797&amp;id=583060898"&gt;Conoceme&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all are having amazing days in the states!! Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-6937262869003666149?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/6937262869003666149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-2-sagrada-familia.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/6937262869003666149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/6937262869003666149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-2-sagrada-familia.html' title='Day 2, Sagrada Familia'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-7462543654371318684</id><published>2009-05-20T04:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T04:53:47.091-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hey Mama Wolf'/><title type='text'>Santa Maria de Feira, Day 1 Barcelona</title><content type='html'>I'm wide awake.  I don't know how.  I am still trying to convince myself that I am actually here.  I feel amazing.  I am indulging in pure bliss.  I made Leon breakfast.  He neglected to tell me that he did not like peppers.  I used three different kinds in my eggs.  Oh well, I thought it was great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leon lives in a suburb of Barcelona called el Fondo.  There are very few tourists here, none in fact.  I appear to be a sideshow attraction.  I am not wholly unaccustom to this.  There are many immigrant families here.  Little kids playing soccer in the streets.  Old men smoking in door stoops.  Women carrying bags of vegetables.  This is normal life.  I feel lucky to see this part of it all.  There is a large draw of tourists to stay in the center of the city.  El Fondo is one of the furthest suburbs from the center.  Still it is only a 15 minute subway ride to anywhere your heart could desire.  There are so many beautiful things to see here I feel I should have stayed in Barcelona longer.  As it is I am leaving here the day after tomorrow for Madrid to begin my teaching position. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to a bar called the Marmalade and then to another called the Big Bang with a group of CSers (Couch Surfers) from the Barcelona group.  There were so many people from so many places all speaking Spanish so very fast.  I met a girl from Austria, another from Finland and three others from Australia.  One guy was from Belgium, one from Israel, one from France, one from the Dominican Republic.  There were some Spaniards, but most of them relocated from other places a long time ago.  Barcelona is truly an international city, made up almost entirely of immigrants.  Both the bars were beautifully decorated.  They reminded me of places I've been in Los Angeles, dark holes in the wall where the hip crowd wastes hours sipping caña and vino.  The Big Bang played nickelodeon music.  Pictures of silent film stars lined the walls.  Towards the end of the night, as the wine settled well into it's vessels a couple of young men began to approach me con los piropos.  "Tu eres muy muy guapa chica!" "Ven conmigo y voy a darte el ultimo tiempo de tu vida." "No seas, preocupa.  Solo quiero besarte."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, gracias. No quiero." I wasn't sure what else to say.  Too little sleep, too many people.  No I do not want to go with you tonight sr, but thank you for the offer.  Hopefully I will learn how to handle this a little better as I imagine it will happen often.  I am too nice.  "Back the fuck up man, I don't want to sleep with you."  This is what I should have said.  Honestly, I was a little flattered.  Still, what is a girl to say??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/4278_88850106547_540196547_2332801_8183088_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/4278_88850071547_540196547_2332794_6203848_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/4278_88849951547_540196547_2332774_3327582_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs026.snc1/4278_88849941547_540196547_2332772_5828963_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking home at 2am was amazing.  Leon and I danced around in the streets and fumbled with apertures.  The graffiti here is everywhere and it is complex and beautiful.  Walking down las Ramblas groups of men carry six packs of beer. "Cerveza, hash, coke?"  The beer is a cover up.  One guy asks if we want beer when he has none in his hands.  A poor cover up, Leon points out.  We bought a samosa on the street for one euro and hopped on the night bus back home.  I almost fell asleep on the bus.  This was my favorite part of the night.  The town was as active as if it were 2pm and everything felt like a dream.  Cheesy I know, but I'm not sure how else to explain it to you.  I feel uplifted. Renewed.  This is my life and I am finally living it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs043.snc1/4400_84152315898_583060898_2274982_6143377_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs003.snc1/4400_84152305898_583060898_2274981_1369609_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we will go to el Barri Gotic.  I really want to go to the beach, but I do not know if we will have time.  At 8p I will meet up with Bill W. for about an hour.  I will try to keep this updated daily, but I've had some trouble with my european converter and I have to try and find a new one.  Until then my laptop is dead.  Leon has been kind enough to let me use his computer, but I do not want to expect that this will continue.  I'd like to say I miss everyone, but that would be a lie.  I never want to leave.  I could easily make this my home. Ciao amigos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-7462543654371318684?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/7462543654371318684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/santa-maria-de-feira-day-1-barcelona.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/7462543654371318684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/7462543654371318684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/santa-maria-de-feira-day-1-barcelona.html' title='Santa Maria de Feira, Day 1 Barcelona'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-3197094730882043720</id><published>2009-05-19T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T18:24:23.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quedate Luna'/><title type='text'>18 May 009, JFK, NY</title><content type='html'>New York and Los Angeles are indistinguishable from the sky.  There are suburbs, track homes, consumerist villages and non-native trees.  There are skyscrapers and an ocean.  Even in the airport the people look the same.  The businessmen &amp;amp; women, the transients, the students, the TSA employees.  I walked outside to light a fix and check out possible photo ops.  Someone bums from me.  The airport employee is impressed with my carton of smokes.  He is impressed by my clothing, the size of my bag and the ease with which I carry it.  He is impressed.  I feel the same.  He tells me his name is William.  I tell him mine and I feel like I'm lying.  He says, "See you soon I hope!"  I say the same.  There are millions of people in New York.  Many impressive people.  Today I am one of them.  I will never see William again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-3197094730882043720?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/3197094730882043720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/18-may-009-jfk-ny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/3197094730882043720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/3197094730882043720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/18-may-009-jfk-ny.html' title='18 May 009, JFK, NY'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-8723960901843385137</id><published>2009-05-17T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T16:53:19.922-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='postmodern pantomime'/><title type='text'>35</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names"&gt;                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic;"&gt;She who is centered in the way can go where she wishes, without any danger. She perceives the universal harmony, even amid great pain, because she has found peace in her heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the moments pass through me today.  Quick whips of sadness lick my center and then are gone.  It's a satisfying kind of feeling, knowing I can let these things go.  I am not alone... I feel you here with me.  For that I am grateful.  I have only a few hours left til departure and I am satisfied with the present.  Today in Denton, tomorrow New York, the next Barcelona.  All these things will pass and I will still be here breathing, feeling, thinking.  Molding myself into what I will become, patiently.  It is easier to be alone than to be with someone and feel oh so lonely.  With this I am satisfied because I feel it is real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chester the cat is getting huge and he , like most young men, has become a budding prick.  It's funny to watch him get into all sorts of trouble and terrorize my friend Micheal's house today.  It reminds me of all the mistakes I've made, being so young and so reckless.  Denton is more beautiful today than I have seen it in a long time.  What a wonderful parting gift.  My entire apartment is empty except for those two suitcases I am taking and the Chrome bag my mother gave me for Christmas.  Some days I crave conversations with my mother, like I crave alcohol, or empty relationships.  Masohistic dilemma.  I've begun to enjoy the suffering in not indulging those measures of instant gratification.  Switch addict.  Satiate.  Full.  Fully-empty.  I feel my ears growing, my hair graying, my teeth rotting and it reminds me to smile.  My skin is stretching in waves.  I cannot escape that feeling.  So I sit here now.  In it.  Calm.  I'll see you on the other side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-8723960901843385137?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/8723960901843385137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/35.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/8723960901843385137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/8723960901843385137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/35.html' title='35'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-5268548086922284495</id><published>2009-05-15T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T00:20:04.992-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sheshepretty'/><title type='text'>little baby</title><content type='html'>Swollen and pink&lt;br /&gt;Getting bigger and smaller&lt;br /&gt;The sheet is transparent&lt;br /&gt;While it floats over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toying with basics&lt;br /&gt;I feel myself smaller&lt;br /&gt;You fall out of view&lt;br /&gt;I am all I can see&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-5268548086922284495?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/5268548086922284495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5268548086922284495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5268548086922284495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-baby.html' title='little baby'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-2100310737209711878</id><published>2009-05-14T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T00:14:57.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='check yo self'/><title type='text'>free falling again</title><content type='html'>Will power and the infinite darkness: the perpetual images burnt into my mind.  You cannot see the path ahead, but you trust that it is there and press on.  Your waltz down the path is dependent on that trust.  How many times has faith failed you?  Me, I cannot count anymore.  It is apparent at times that this gives me strength, other times insanity.  I'm always pushing sometimes too hard, sometimes not at all.  I am in a constant state of sickness and the antidote for these depths into infinity is to only dig further.  To really see what lay upon the other side.  Or really, to see if you have what it takes to get there.  It is the journey that matters, right?  Are there those who do not venture to make the journey?  Are they happy in their sublime bliss?  Are their depths less than mine?  Maybe we all find it in our way.  Somehow I feel very alone in all of these transformations, from insanity to clarity and back again.  I'm thankful I have eyes to see and a heart to hear, because otherwise I feel I would be lost forever.  My intuition tells me that many people will always be lost.  Most people in fact.  If reincarnation were fact it might explain the exponential population growth (because science is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;irrelevant&lt;/span&gt; right now in my world).  Too many souls refuse to see the path so they all keep coming back again and again??? Madness? Maybe probably.  That statement feels esoteric in nature, as if I have something everyone else does not.  In the words of The Great Dr. Orpheus, "I only know that I know nothing."  These are just some thoughts I've had as of late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am and will forever be perpetually ill.  It is the human condition.  My self awareness is my sanctity, but today I feel, that is where it ends.  The problem with self betterment is never feeling good enough.  Who will love the girl who may never get well, when in fact she seems to be incapable of loving herself?  I don't know if that is entirely true.  I am growing on me.  Surely there are things I admire.  Then again, who knows how I will feel tomorrow.  These words already feel a little foreign... soon enough they will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-2100310737209711878?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2100310737209711878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/free-falling-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2100310737209711878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2100310737209711878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/free-falling-again.html' title='free falling again'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-2120336960097377267</id><published>2009-05-12T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:37:09.786-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bang bang'/><title type='text'>All those big words</title><content type='html'>Sister is ready not ready is ready not ready is now is now is now is not ready ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She cannot respond&lt;br /&gt;There are no words to say&lt;br /&gt;Ready not ready now I'm...&lt;br /&gt;Is this 1 minus the numbness?&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't call it numb&lt;br /&gt;She was just pretending then&lt;br /&gt;Now this is real&lt;br /&gt;Now this is this is this is&lt;br /&gt;Something else entirely&lt;br /&gt;Creeps up from the fissures&lt;br /&gt;Pours in through the seams&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't see it&lt;br /&gt;You're not looking&lt;br /&gt;Bounce to and fro; spontaneity&lt;br /&gt;Erratic behavior&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE&lt;br /&gt;You're not the only one&lt;br /&gt;There are billions just like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://a58.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/128/l_e0bd722a0ec3db826e8af2aedaa115e1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;You remind me of home&lt;br /&gt;The paint cracks when the water leaks from the rusty pipes that are just beneath my feet&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of home&lt;br /&gt;The heater's warm but fills the room with a potpourri of dust and gas fumes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of home&lt;br /&gt;A broken bed with dirty sheets that creaks when I am shifting in my sleep&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of home&lt;br /&gt;In a suburban town with nothing to do, patiently waiting for something to happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the foundation is crumbling&lt;br /&gt;And becoming one with the ground&lt;br /&gt;While you lay there in slumber&lt;br /&gt;You're wasting your life&lt;br /&gt;Wasting your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of home&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on a thrift store couch, I'm trying to get this all down&lt;br /&gt;-Ben Gibbard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-2120336960097377267?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2120336960097377267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/all-those-big-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2120336960097377267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2120336960097377267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/all-those-big-words.html' title='All those big words'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-2299824783452078820</id><published>2009-05-11T22:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T22:31:50.255-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanks for your cooperation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mgmt'/><title type='text'>Clark Gabel</title><content type='html'>Hey, you know, everything's gonna be ok.&lt;br /&gt;I am finally saying good night.  If you love something you give it away.  I am feeling free.  It is lonely and I am kind of scared.  I know I'll never be alone.  I'll never fall so hard that I cannot get back up.  I jump at new opportunities.  I check my intentions.  I keep myself honest. I allow the lump in my throat.  I can't fight it anymore.  I embrace the clarity of painful realizations.  I accept the finite nature of destiny.  I eat when I'm hungry, sleep when I'm tired, embrace when I feel love and cry when I'm sad.  I can no longer call the shots.  Shit, I don't want to anymore.  I'll give up my will to one who knows better.  I breathe you in and breathe out my fears.  I walk forward step by step and day by day: sometimes quickly sometimes slowly... always forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;when the world has turned&lt;br /&gt;paralyzed and wrong&lt;br /&gt;cold blooded claws&lt;br /&gt;never offered anything at all&lt;br /&gt;past the point of love&lt;br /&gt;shattered and untied&lt;br /&gt;waiting to pick up the pieces&lt;br /&gt;that make it all alright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;doesn't matter any more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moonlight on my floor&lt;br /&gt;shining through the roof&lt;br /&gt;they got the city surrounded&lt;br /&gt;as if I needed proof&lt;br /&gt;i forgot my fear&lt;br /&gt;feelings on the rise&lt;br /&gt;burying all of the pieces&lt;br /&gt;falling from the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;we used to call home&lt;br /&gt;pieces of what&lt;br /&gt;we used to call home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i drank your tea&lt;br /&gt;and shallow water still&lt;br /&gt;at the belgian gates&lt;br /&gt;i waited for my meal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-MGMT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-2299824783452078820?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2299824783452078820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/clark-gabel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2299824783452078820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/2299824783452078820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/clark-gabel.html' title='Clark Gabel'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-6825844208930633564</id><published>2009-05-10T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T13:31:37.804-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I can feel your pain in my bones'/><title type='text'>Shedding the pelage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My skin stretches every day&lt;br /&gt;I can feel it burning&lt;br /&gt;The unbearable pain&lt;br /&gt;The temporary torment of growth&lt;br /&gt;I see I can bear anything&lt;br /&gt;I've learned all I can from you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I know what I want and I'll do it til it's done so I can be the dream I've wanted to be since day one.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;This is the moment that you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; That you told her that you loved her but you don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; You touch her skin and then you think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; As we moved together in the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; And all the friends that i was telling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; And all the playful misspellings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; And every bite i gave you left a mark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; Tiny vessels oozed into your neck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; And formed the bruises&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; That you said you didn't want to fade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; But they did and so did i that day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-6825844208930633564?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/6825844208930633564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/ive-learned-all-i-can-from-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/6825844208930633564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/6825844208930633564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/ive-learned-all-i-can-from-you.html' title='Shedding the pelage'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-5378315418022280304</id><published>2009-05-08T10:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:27:18.699-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strenth] 1. &#x9;the quality or state of being strong; bodily or spiritually power; vigor.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strength    /strɛŋkθ'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strength'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strɛnθ/[strengkth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strɛŋθ'/><title type='text'>On my own now, I play alone now</title><content type='html'>There is so much to do in such a short amount of time.  Such is life.  We are certainly on borrowed time.  I have posted some poetry in the last few hours, but realistically this blog will become a travel log for my thoughts, pictures and stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my itinerary for the following weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 15th, Friday- Finals are over&lt;br /&gt;May 16th Saturday- Adrian arrives in Denton!&lt;br /&gt;May 17th Sunday- Move out of my apartment&lt;br /&gt;May 18th Monday- 11:45a flight from DFW to JFK, New York, then from JFK to BCN, Barcelona&lt;br /&gt;Ma7 19th Tuesday- 8:45a arrive at BCN, meet Leon!&lt;br /&gt;May 22nd, Friday-  Early morning orientation in Barcelona, evening flight to Madrid to meet Carmen and Estrella!&lt;br /&gt;May 30th,  Saturday- Fly from MAD to Berlin, arrive at 7:45pm.  Meet Ines!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;June 4th, Thursday- Fly from Berlin to MAD&lt;br /&gt;June 30th- Fly to BCN&lt;br /&gt;July 1st- Fly home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be an amazing trip.  I am looking forward to it with every cell in my being. Stay posted for more stories and events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2677/150/55/583060898/n583060898_2213518_956984.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a pic from my last trip to Long Beach, CA to visit a super close friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IF&lt;/span&gt; you can keep your head when all about you&lt;br /&gt;Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,&lt;br /&gt;If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,&lt;br /&gt;But make allowance for their doubting too;&lt;br /&gt;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,&lt;br /&gt;Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,&lt;br /&gt;Or being hated, don't give way to hating,&lt;br /&gt;And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;&lt;br /&gt;If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;&lt;br /&gt;If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster&lt;br /&gt;And treat those two impostors just the same;&lt;br /&gt;If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken&lt;br /&gt;Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,&lt;br /&gt;Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,&lt;br /&gt;And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If you can make one heap of all your winnings&lt;br /&gt;And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,&lt;br /&gt;And lose, and start again at your beginnings&lt;br /&gt;And never breathe a word about your loss;&lt;br /&gt;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew&lt;br /&gt;To serve your turn long after they are gone,&lt;br /&gt;And so hold on when there is nothing in you&lt;br /&gt;Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;span helvetica=""  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,&lt;br /&gt;' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,&lt;br /&gt;if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,&lt;br /&gt;If all men count with you, but none too much;&lt;br /&gt;If you can fill the unforgiving minute&lt;br /&gt;With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,&lt;br /&gt;Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,&lt;br /&gt;And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   -Kipling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr size="1" width="250" align="left" color="RED"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-5378315418022280304?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/5378315418022280304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/on-my-own-now-i-play-alone-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5378315418022280304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5378315418022280304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/on-my-own-now-i-play-alone-now.html' title='On my own now, I play alone now'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-516555794168075283</id><published>2009-05-07T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T20:24:09.503-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shame is the shadow of love'/><title type='text'>la fe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;endless ending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My silence speaks Volumes&lt;br /&gt;I've said too much&lt;br /&gt;You cut off the current&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Before my hand was dealt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was faith in nothing&lt;br /&gt;'I'll always be there'&lt;br /&gt;As long as I chose&lt;br /&gt;The best song, the right hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The switch can't be turned&lt;br /&gt;It's been ripped at the wires&lt;br /&gt;I've stepped from the room&lt;br /&gt;All bright and perspired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drunk on those words&lt;br /&gt;I let you misshape&lt;br /&gt;I'll face my own faults&lt;br /&gt;While you choose escape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-516555794168075283?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/516555794168075283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-fe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/516555794168075283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/516555794168075283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-fe.html' title='la fe'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-8450321514937978677</id><published>2009-05-07T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T20:11:35.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Borrowed time wasted</title><content type='html'>A lot of this is old poetry.  Some of it is new.  It doesn't matter what is what.  It needs out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Untitled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A photograph cannot retain&lt;br /&gt;The memory of feel&lt;br /&gt;Days can pass&lt;br /&gt;And I cannot&lt;br /&gt;Recall the painful metamorphosis&lt;br /&gt;From tragedy to peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therein I find a fatal flaw&lt;br /&gt;To which I indulge&lt;br /&gt;Taking pictures of&lt;br /&gt;Everything I've already done and said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Years Pass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the ruins cannot withstand&lt;br /&gt;To orbit round the sun&lt;br /&gt;Still I'm here to reconcile&lt;br /&gt;All I've left of the past&lt;br /&gt;A bleak and fading memory&lt;br /&gt;Accentuated by my own ruins&lt;br /&gt;A decade of nostalgia&lt;br /&gt;Stashed away&lt;br /&gt;Between the approaching&lt;br /&gt;Enemy of Progress&lt;br /&gt;And my dirty feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, to whom do I owe&lt;br /&gt;For all the muddled aspirations of my youth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-8450321514937978677?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/8450321514937978677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/borrowed-time-wasted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/8450321514937978677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/8450321514937978677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/borrowed-time-wasted.html' title='Borrowed time wasted'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-4743250181938955610</id><published>2009-05-07T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T20:02:42.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Donna dice, "no siento bella."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Casi los tengo&lt;br /&gt;Los momentos conmigo&lt;br /&gt;Solo en los pensamientos&lt;br /&gt;Cuando el cielo mira claro&lt;br /&gt;y La mente siente tranquilo&lt;br /&gt;Estoy lista por todas&lt;br /&gt;Las cosas que evito&lt;br /&gt;En las ma&lt;span class="head_word"&gt;ñanas y todos los d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em class="exB"&gt;ías&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="head_word"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fue evitadote&lt;br /&gt;Ahora, no est&lt;/span&gt;á necessario&lt;br /&gt;Solo puedo evitarme&lt;br /&gt;Dejasteme&lt;br /&gt;Evitasme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy peleando por nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://artfiles.art.com/images/-/William-Nicholson-Pryde/Lyceum-Don-Quixote-Print-C10029378.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;"Nobody broke your heart.  You broke your own cause you can't finish what you start."&lt;br /&gt;-Elliot Smith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-4743250181938955610?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/4743250181938955610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/donna-dice-no-siento-bella.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/4743250181938955610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/4743250181938955610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/donna-dice-no-siento-bella.html' title='Donna dice, &quot;no siento bella.&quot;'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1867413030986346751.post-5500207126329923903</id><published>2009-05-07T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T19:34:45.618-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All their broken hearts'/><title type='text'>Maybe we will meet again in another life when we are both cats.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I can't explain  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Everyone keeps saying  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Same thing  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; You must be sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I guess I'll tell you  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; It's not the same thing  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; It took a while but I'm doing ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; We played a long time  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; We got along fine  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; And just like you I can't believe it's through.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Believe it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Me and you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I'm on my own now  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I play alone now  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I'd like to say that I'm kind of scared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; What if I lose it  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I've been known to panic  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I make myself sick 'cause I've got bad nerves  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; I've got bad nerves.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt; Oh my nerves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I know you better than I ever have&lt;br /&gt;As my memory slips into the past&lt;br /&gt;Now is now is now&lt;br /&gt;is now is&lt;br /&gt;'We're all on borrowed time'&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to borrow some of yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We laid in the graveyard&lt;br /&gt;Nothing could break us, except each other&lt;br /&gt;Here I am still picking up the pieces&lt;br /&gt;Yours never cut me, I cut myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a while, but I'm ready now&lt;br /&gt;Ready to face it&lt;br /&gt;Nothing endures but endurance itself&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to stop running&lt;br /&gt;Ready to face you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1867413030986346751-5500207126329923903?l=ohthesewalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/feeds/5500207126329923903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-we-will-meet-again-in-another.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5500207126329923903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1867413030986346751/posts/default/5500207126329923903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ohthesewalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-we-will-meet-again-in-another.html' title='Maybe we will meet again in another life when we are both cats.'/><author><name>sister orwell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02929337261111660057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_68ehj0PvFos/ShkvmS0cobI/AAAAAAAAABM/ZIi9vNJdS9k/s1600-R/4278_89113841547_540196547_2335814_7153648_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
