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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba</id>
  <title>Misadventures in Wasteland</title>
  <subtitle>You Love It</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>MoNk</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2007-04-24T08:58:22Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="1298531" username="motaba" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:29643</id>
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    <title>Simon Didn't Say</title>
    <published>2007-04-24T08:52:54Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-24T08:58:22Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So we didn't ship.  And here I remain.  Should be til May.  Could be forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I realized I probably wasn't being perma-fucked, the delay appealed to me.  &lt;i&gt;Exactly what I need&lt;/i&gt;.  So I quit smoking regularly.  And gained 8 pounds.  And tied up some loose ends. And waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And waited&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I can't fucking stand it.  I'm not supposed to be here.  I already closed this chapter of my life.  Why must I stay here in purgatory while the rest of the world moves on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate you, BR.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:29206</id>
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    <title>I'm Out</title>
    <published>2007-02-15T06:07:59Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-15T06:54:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I went down to NOLA and got this Marines ball rolling.&lt;br /&gt;Took the ASVAB [or AFQT...whatever] and got a 97.&lt;br /&gt;Took the physical and got a fucking DQ.&lt;br /&gt;Doc said I have Bronchitis [who knew?].&lt;br /&gt;Have to go back down in 2 weeks and prove I've recovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little bit anxious about joining.&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'm scared of hitting the Middle East and getting shot at.&lt;br /&gt;Hell, that's the plan.&lt;br /&gt;Just don't want to sign the next few years of my life away and end up wasting my time.&lt;br /&gt;I need to see combat.&lt;br /&gt;I need to see Japan.&lt;br /&gt;I need &lt;b&gt;new experiences&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And they can't guarantee me that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hey, Dad, what do you think about your son now?&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:29175</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/29175.html"/>
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    <title>Thaaat Bitch</title>
    <published>2006-12-17T23:36:09Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-15T06:34:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I feel like fucking Frodo with the One Ring.&lt;br /&gt;Though I've let others see it, a few even touch it, this weight is mine to bear.&lt;br /&gt;Tempted by its power, my lust is curbed by an unshakable sense of responsibility to the weak, the stupid, the human.&lt;br /&gt;My journey through all the world's pleasures is tainted by the Ring, and I will only find relief in our shared destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Frodo wouldn't have made it very far without Sam.&lt;br /&gt;But Sam didn't have a fucking clue.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ring is the knowledge I stumbled upon and unwittingly cursed myself with.&lt;br /&gt;Its power would allow me to interpret, predict, and control the human being.&lt;br /&gt;My belief in order and patterns in everything produced an understanding of the subconscious reactions that govern your "actions."&lt;br /&gt;I cannot rid myself of it.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot share the burden.&lt;br /&gt;Sans quarantine, this blight would replace Feminazism as the world's major psychological epidemic.&lt;br /&gt;And that just won't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no magic, no mystery, no excitement to life when you understand it for what it is.&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance really is bliss, and I'd give anything to have it back.&lt;br /&gt;I never can, though.&lt;br /&gt;My lot is to abstain from life's cheat codes until I break.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:28839</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/28839.html"/>
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    <title>To Each His Bone</title>
    <published>2006-07-31T22:56:48Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-01T04:32:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;u&gt;Story Time&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Court manages to drop her cell in my toilet the other night.&lt;br /&gt;She starts freaking out and rounds up a posse to get her phone back.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, déjà vu hits me like a punch in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why is this so fucking familiar?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smoke clears, and I have my answer:  I dreamed this.&lt;br /&gt;I rush to Ross' room, where he and Travis are contemplating.&lt;br /&gt;"Guys, you remember that dream--"&lt;br /&gt;Lots of jumping, &lt;i&gt;holy shit&lt;/i&gt;, and confusion ensue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why mention this?&lt;br /&gt;It's the first time I've been able to prove that I've dreamed something beforehand.&lt;br /&gt;If one can see meaningless events in the future through dreams, what else is possible?&lt;br /&gt;But this kind of thinking undermines my beliefs in the physical.&lt;br /&gt;Or does it?&lt;br /&gt;Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fuck politics. We're here. All the rest is bullshit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Be Continued...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:28575</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/28575.html"/>
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    <title>Announcement</title>
    <published>2006-07-03T22:35:29Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-03T22:35:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So Travis, Ross, and I need a new roomie.&lt;br /&gt;ASAP.&lt;br /&gt;Interested?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:28167</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/28167.html"/>
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    <title>Khayman</title>
    <published>2006-06-30T23:52:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-30T23:58:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;And you must know we do not really change over time;&lt;br /&gt;We are as flowers unfolding;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;We merely become more nearly ourselves.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:28029</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/28029.html"/>
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    <title>Let's Play</title>
    <published>2006-04-13T08:52:24Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-13T08:53:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;So are risks.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:27655</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/27655.html"/>
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    <title>When There's No One Left, Who Will I Turn To?</title>
    <published>2006-04-03T05:20:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-11T00:19:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So my world, as always, has completely changed.&lt;br /&gt;A few times, actually...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a new job.&lt;br /&gt;Been working with concrete at a plant for a few months.&lt;br /&gt;Got a $2 raise, which means $11/hour.&lt;br /&gt;And the work has gotten me in damn good shape, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a new roomie on the way.&lt;br /&gt;Brandon the roomie.&lt;br /&gt;We will amaze &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a new...pair of girl pants.&lt;br /&gt;Hey, it's not my fault!&lt;br /&gt;PacSun refuses to carry 26W28L jeans anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Since that was the only place in the world that carried them, I was forced to adapt.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry...&lt;br /&gt;But hey, other than too little crotch space, they're not so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack,&lt;br /&gt;We've had some good times.&lt;br /&gt;Remember Shenanigans?&lt;br /&gt;Or those parties we threw?&lt;br /&gt;Those were the days, man...&lt;br /&gt;But the times...they've changed.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to you, I've missed out on some things.&lt;br /&gt;Important conversations, pivotal moments, etc..&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not quite partial to waking up and not knowing how I got there.&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;i&gt;scary&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So here it is, dude:  I'm taking a bit of a break from you.&lt;br /&gt;Now don't take this the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;We'll still see each other.&lt;br /&gt;But only the occasional small dose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;For now&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'd like to wake up to someone making me pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;That'd be nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'd meet you in wrong.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;b&gt;Gawd&lt;/b&gt;, I want to just sit down and write out everything I've learned.&lt;br /&gt;About everything.&lt;br /&gt;Someday...]</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:27207</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/27207.html"/>
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    <title>Badass</title>
    <published>2005-12-31T06:47:00Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-31T06:47:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm an Objectivist (of sorts) in an emotionally-driven world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:27004</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/27004.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=27004"/>
    <title>Mercy</title>
    <published>2005-12-18T13:32:55Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-18T13:34:01Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm not meant for this.  I'm not meant for bills, insurance, jobs, cars, trends, ties, furniture, decorations, mail, credit, shopping, debt, advertising, accepting, refunding, calling, freezing, news, schedules, denominations, schooling, inching, waiting, rotting, maturing, wishing, changing, saving, stagnating, leaving, staying, cheating, feeling, restricting, the game.  I'm just sick of it.  All of it.  I want out. Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm begging for an apocalypse.  To watch society crumble.  To survive.  And for that to be all that matters.  I want it clear-cut.  Us or them.  And it's going to be them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natural selection no longer applies to the human race.  It should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sick of dealing with your shit, your needs, your drama, your games, your comfort, your reluctance, your issues, your fear.  Just go.  You've left a bad taste in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What have I become,&lt;br /&gt;My sweetest friend?&lt;br /&gt;Everyone I know goes away&lt;br /&gt;In the end.&lt;br /&gt;And you could have it all,&lt;br /&gt;My empire of dirt.&lt;br /&gt;I will let you down.&lt;br /&gt;I will make you hurt.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:26636</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/26636.html"/>
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    <title>She Moves Me</title>
    <published>2005-11-26T07:10:39Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-12T13:37:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Lacking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;For the life of me, I cannot remember&lt;br /&gt;What made us think that we were wise&lt;br /&gt;And we'd never compromise.&lt;br /&gt;For the life of me, I cannot believe&lt;br /&gt;We'd ever die for these sins.&lt;br /&gt;We were merely freshmen.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:26469</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/26469.html"/>
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    <title>Duel of the Fates</title>
    <published>2005-11-09T11:45:42Z</published>
    <updated>2005-11-09T15:39:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I gave up, gave in, caved in...I just don't care anymore.  It's whatever.  And I'm finding this lack of motivation in everything to be...well, disturbing.  It's unlike me to be so apathetic. I find myself doing nothing but the necessary.  I'm just...getting by.  I'm waiting for something to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something's waiting for &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missed opportunities.  They've occupied my mind lately.  Constantly.  Unceasingly.  &lt;i&gt;This&lt;/i&gt; could've happened.  This &lt;i&gt;should've&lt;/i&gt; happened.  I'm pissed.  Where are my just deserts?  Where's my 2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; go at things?  For instance:  &lt;i&gt;Halo&lt;/i&gt;.  I was good.  I was damn good.  I could've--should've gone national.  The handle &lt;b&gt;MoNk&lt;/b&gt; would've been known throughout; hell, maybe even feared.  I would've won money (not just free food) doing something I absolutely love.  Now there's &lt;i&gt;Halo 2&lt;/i&gt;, and the ship has sailed.  I'm left with nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;We can live beside the ocean,&lt;br /&gt;Leave the fire behind,&lt;br /&gt;Swim out past the breakers,&lt;br /&gt;Watch the world die.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:26156</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/26156.html"/>
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    <title>The Life You Waste</title>
    <published>2005-10-06T11:46:10Z</published>
    <updated>2005-10-06T11:46:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So...yeah, they were right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Well, fuck that,&lt;br /&gt;And fuck her,&lt;br /&gt;And fuck him,&lt;br /&gt;And fuck you&lt;br /&gt;For not having the strength in your heart to pull through.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:26028</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/26028.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=26028"/>
    <title>I Groan</title>
    <published>2005-09-01T08:55:08Z</published>
    <updated>2005-09-01T08:56:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Alone in this house of cancer.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:25527</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/25527.html"/>
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    <title>A Lick of the Brick</title>
    <published>2005-08-01T11:27:31Z</published>
    <updated>2005-08-01T12:27:15Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The salt of her flesh&lt;br /&gt;Is fresh on my lips,&lt;br /&gt;And it dips my mind into depths&lt;br /&gt;Of selfishness.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:25155</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/25155.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=25155"/>
    <title>April and October</title>
    <published>2005-07-26T07:40:27Z</published>
    <updated>2005-07-26T07:42:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I look back and smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad came down.  Hadn't seen him in 4 months.  It was good...it was &lt;i&gt;great&lt;/i&gt;.  I'd missed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should be starting soon.  God, help me.  I need this, though.  The money's important, but I also feel as if I'm stagnating here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's...different.  Is it...mature?  Not sure, but I'm proud to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Street lights turned on as I approached.  Now they've started going out.  Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;We are building a religion.&lt;br /&gt;We are making a brand.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:24594</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/24594.html"/>
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    <title>Isolate and Save You from Yourself</title>
    <published>2005-06-25T11:04:31Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-25T22:28:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm craving amnesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone will let you down.  Every single one of them will disappoint you.  No exceptions.  The truth still hurts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to what could have been.  You haunt me to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Don't fret, Precious; I'm here.&lt;br /&gt;Step away from the window.&lt;br /&gt;Go back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils.&lt;br /&gt;See, they don't give a fuck about you&lt;br /&gt;Like I do.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:23989</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/23989.html"/>
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    <title>Leave 'Em at the Door</title>
    <published>2005-05-03T20:45:14Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-04T17:11:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So the party was an unbelievable success.  The world was invited, the world came, and the world enjoyed itself immensely.  I've heard nothing but great things, and I have to say it feels really, &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could entrust others with responsibility.  I had fun that night, but I could have had &lt;i&gt;gobs&lt;/i&gt; more had I not taken on the role of doorman/rulemeister.  Someone had to keep us out of trouble, and I don't have nearly as much faith in anyone else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just can't see what's right in front of you.  You will...eventually.  Too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oh, mercy me,&lt;br /&gt;God bless catastrophe.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:23492</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/23492.html"/>
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    <title>Enigma</title>
    <published>2005-04-16T06:12:43Z</published>
    <updated>2005-04-18T04:21:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">No.  No.  No.  No.  &lt;i&gt;No&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the rock?  I am the rock!  Or &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; I?  I wasn't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I can't believe that, for a second there, I forgot who always comes out on top.  And I will.  I shouldn't, but...yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt old when I turned twenty...that is, until I found out I won a PSP.  On my birthday.  Bounced around the office as a result.  Sexy, no?  &lt;i&gt;Life&lt;/i&gt; is sexy.  I no longer feel like half of mine is over.  And it's good like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be pissed at myself, but I can't.  Too happy.  I mean, do I really want to deprive myself of that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want a laugh?  Check the anonymous comment on my last post.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:23160</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/23160.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=23160"/>
    <title>Murderlicious</title>
    <published>2005-03-25T07:41:48Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-25T07:41:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Ever made a child cry with a smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give.  I'd surrender if only I knew how.  Things took a turn for the worst and kept on going.  Stress.  I don't even know where I'll be a month from now.  I've nowhere to live.  I've been sick for weeks and am showing no improvement.  Now I'm low on funds.  And to top it all off, I've become one of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And I might be dead,&lt;br /&gt;But I could just be wrong.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:22824</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/22824.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22824"/>
    <title>Forbidden Fruit</title>
    <published>2005-03-15T03:38:36Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-15T03:38:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I finally started writing again, and no, you cannot have it.  It's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Whatever you need to make you feel&lt;br /&gt;Like you've been the one behind the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;The sunrise is just over that hill.&lt;br /&gt;The worst is over.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:22534</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/22534.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22534"/>
    <title>I'm Not a Model</title>
    <published>2005-03-08T03:04:56Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-08T03:05:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The only thing keeping me in check is lack of...tools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I may be living with Sparks come May.  So I may be working only one job come next week.  So I may be on a collision course with various people, the wreckage yielding interesting results.  Oh, well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I did go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hold me closer, tiny dancer.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:22445</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/22445.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22445"/>
    <title>Paint It Black</title>
    <published>2005-02-24T14:53:57Z</published>
    <updated>2005-03-02T18:45:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Let us go back to a simpler time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might actually be that guy no one understands.  I know it comes off cliché. I'm aware I sound pretentious...but I'm serious.  I've noticed that no one else seems to understand why I do what I do.  Everyone's oblivious to my motives, my intentions.  I wouldn't call myself a complicated individual, and I don't &lt;i&gt;think&lt;/i&gt; I have a problem communicating...so here's my solution:  ask.  Probe away.  I would love to divulge my secrets.  Conflict is something others avoid, but I embrace it.  After conflict comes clarity, and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:22258</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/22258.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=22258"/>
    <title>Don't Try to Save Me</title>
    <published>2005-02-21T15:54:58Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-25T10:53:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It's amusing what I can put here, right under your little noses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I saw you today.  My thoughts vanished and my tail wagged when that familiar coat came into view.  &lt;i&gt;Honk?  Roll down the window?  Yell?&lt;/i&gt;  I could not decide.  But it wasn't you, and I died.  Lately, it seems like every time I approach a street light, it goes out.  &lt;i&gt;You aren't welcome here.&lt;/i&gt;  It makes me think of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You may be right.&lt;br /&gt;I may be crazy,&lt;br /&gt;But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:motaba:21927</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/21927.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://motaba.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=21927"/>
    <title>Like a Knife on the Shelf</title>
    <published>2005-02-16T07:53:33Z</published>
    <updated>2005-02-17T11:42:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">They are all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to convince myself to write.  And losing.  I'd really like to express some of these ideas of mine through poetry or prose, but...well, you know me.  Guess I'll have to dance!  Or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's &lt;i&gt;Distraction&lt;/i&gt; Number Four?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm liking the 2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; job.  It's paid exercise, and it also gives me gobs of time to contemplate.  Some good thoughts, some dangerous...but it's for the best.  I think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having to look to the future.  The parents and Ligia are moving far, far away.  Jua's been gone.  Steph'll be back...post-summer.  And here I'll remain.  Nineteen.  Well, twenty soon, but still alone.  I mean, I've been living out of the house at different levels (dorm, apt.) for awhile now, yet Mom and Dad have always been a short drive away.  What if I really screw things up?  What if things just happen to fall apart?  I'll make it.  I always do.  But how much of that was because they've held my hand the entire way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.  I'm going to miss you immensely...</content>
  </entry>
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