<?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-31810488</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:30:24.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Imperfection</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31810488/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Perfect Imperfectionx0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09631252932645167815</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i7.tinypic.com/21abmo0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31810488.post-115412997315586917</id><published>2006-07-28T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T16:39:33.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slowing Heartbeats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm barely missing your intentions. What am I suppose to say? Am I supposed to tell you how wonderful I feel and the medications are doing great? I swear, there's nothing stopping your control. Or thirst for control. You make me sick and...well, you make me suicidal. Although I was already like that. You made it worse. You made it a thoughtful idea. I hate your guts and every atom in your body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;.Mildred. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;That's what she wrote. That's what I found in the envelope from the mail-man. It hit me like a thunderbolt in the chest. How could she feel this way? How could you change her feelings so quickly? Had she always felt this way? Or was it from the medication she was taking? Either way, I was destined to get to the bottom of it. To get to the reason why she all of a sudden told me such nonsense. I had to sit there, and let the rage in my body cool for a minute. Reading was the only cure, but such as a letter as this made that seem putrid and insane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"What did she say, Van? Anything...well spoken?" My son Wellman, walks into the room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"She hates me..." he frowns, annoyance on his aged features. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"What's the cause now?" "Sanity is filtering into her useless brain. I thought we would have put enough serum into her skull to rid her of knowledge!!" Quincy walks through the oak doors, causing them to slam against the wall and shaking the entire laboratory. We don't fully know whether it's a female or a male creature. It's face, twisted into different dimensions, bringing out a disgusting look on it's face. Tall and rail-thin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Quincy leave well enough alone. She's of no use to us." Wellman returns, his carved face tilting at an angle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Only of use to me, Stupid." my lips quiver slightly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Shut up, we still have to get rid of her!! Can't your pathetic mind see how dangerous she is to us?! She hates Van's bloody guts. Not that I disagree with her on that, nonetheless. She will corrupt us. I know it." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"That shows how much you know, Quincy, you have no brain." my lovely son sticks his tongue out at the ogre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Don't do that, fool. I'll cut off your tongue and feed it to you." Wellman glares at him nervously before running head-over-tail up the staircase. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"You ruined my plot, Jackass. I could have done something...go away." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Why?" "Because I said so. Because I created you. Because I will hurt you if you don't." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;"Good enough for me." Quincy disappears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31810488-115412997315586917?l=perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/feeds/115412997315586917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31810488&amp;postID=115412997315586917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31810488/posts/default/115412997315586917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31810488/posts/default/115412997315586917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/2006/07/slowing-heartbeats.html' title='Slowing Heartbeats'/><author><name>Perfect Imperfectionx0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09631252932645167815</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i7.tinypic.com/21abmo0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31810488.post-115412713296584639</id><published>2006-07-28T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T16:22:47.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>♥♥My Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Right Now. I feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;so...like...i umm...posted this bulletin. right?&lt;br /&gt;so..it wentt like: If you're my friend. Reply to this.&lt;br /&gt;so..like................i received 2 messages from my friends: Kacey and Michele.&lt;br /&gt;woooot! &amp;&amp;amp; then i talked to zack!!!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;&amp;amp; he &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;doesnt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; hate me!!!! woooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel incredibly loved!!!&lt;br /&gt;hehehehehehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*giggle*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;wooo....i love you, Joey!!!&amp;hearts;&amp;hearts;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i wanna end this blog entry....&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;love you all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31810488-115412713296584639?l=perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/feeds/115412713296584639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31810488&amp;postID=115412713296584639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31810488/posts/default/115412713296584639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31810488/posts/default/115412713296584639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perfect-imperfectionxo.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-sacrifice.html' title='&amp;hearts;&amp;hearts;My Sacrifice'/><author><name>Perfect Imperfectionx0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09631252932645167815</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://i7.tinypic.com/21abmo0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
