<?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-3977538014743804836</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:42:22.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's be eternal for just a little longer</title><subtitle type='html'>Maybe for the moment you and I can just be infinite</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7943853146222726268</id><published>2010-09-07T12:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T13:43:04.645-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone for the day to the Trolly Wood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm gone for the day to the Trolly Wood&lt;br /&gt;The Trolly Wood is taken me away&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Eisley&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've decided I'm over this blog. Nothing serious, just wanted something new. I've switched to Tumblr as it's much easier to update (I can do it from my phone!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://heartbeatgravity.tumblr.com"&gt;http://heartbeatgravity.tumblr.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Follow me there friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7943853146222726268?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7943853146222726268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7943853146222726268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7943853146222726268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7943853146222726268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/09/gone-for-day-to-trolly-wood.html' title='Gone for the day to the Trolly Wood'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7831034005379317017</id><published>2010-08-02T02:15:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T02:37:10.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I don't know how to slow it down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;my mind's racing from chasing pirates&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Norah Jones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A quick update before I go to bed:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend was so much fun. I went to the beach with a great group of friends and got to spend time outside and just relax. It was beautiful and I came to a realization.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have some pretty amazing friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now this is something I've assumed for quite awhile, but then I always ended up crying and broken because my "great" friends really weren't that great. I had a skewed vision of what friendship really was. In my mind, friendship meant that as long as the good times outweighed the bad, everything was fine. Friendship meant that as long as I was happy most of the time, life was good. My version of friendship neglected the nights where I would lie in bed completely broken, sobbing because of something a friend did (or more likely than not didn't do). My version of friendship neglected to remember the numerous times when I'd been tossed to the side for a lover, the band, other people, you name it. My version neglected to notice that yes, the good times should outweigh the bad, but the bad times shouldn't be so frequent and so monumental. However, now I have come to know what real friendship REALLY is: A real friend is someone who will stick by you no matter what. A real friend is someone who might hurt you, but will instantly be there to repair the small crack he or she has made. It will never be more than a small crack because a real friend feels your pain and doesn't want you to hurt even in the slightest.  A real friend knows that you can go months without talking, but doesn't want to because he or she likes talking to you about everything or nothing. Real friends make you feel better about life and the world around you. Never worse, and I have some very wonderful real friends. There may not be many, but you don't need a lot of great friends. You just need a handful that you can rely on in any situation, and I've found some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm lucky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They make my life brighter and I'm happy because of it :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7831034005379317017?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7831034005379317017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7831034005379317017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7831034005379317017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7831034005379317017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/08/and-i-dont-know-how-to-slow-it-down.html' title='And I don&apos;t know how to slow it down'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8950633214362361914</id><published>2010-07-11T23:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T23:38:31.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So, Peter, you've become a pirate...</title><content type='html'>One of the hardest things in the world to do is to accept that someone is no longer the person you thought they were. People change, and that is normal, but when someone who holds such a huge part of you changes into someone you barely recognize you have to let go. You have to realize that some people do, in fact, grow up. &lt;div&gt;It may be hard to handle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It may be hard to understand &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the only way to know for sure how much someone cares about you is to let them go. Let them go and see if they come back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If they do, beautiful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If they don't, so it goes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You cannot hold on to anyone but yourself. If you hold too tightly to Peter Pan he'll fly away. He cannot want to be held down. He's a carefree spirit who does what he chooses. The same can be said about love. If you hold on too tightly, if you allow yourself to become blind to your own needs, you will lose it. Completely and in the process &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;you will lose yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing hurts worse than a broken heart. I would rather break every bone in my body, but the truth is everyone faces them and in time they do heal. It might take months. It might take years, but eventually every wound heals. It's all a matter of time and patience. I'm so used to giving in, but I know in my heart that the love I deserve is one where I am not always crying and that is not what I have been getting. I refuse to allow myself to go back to that place, to that person, who continually breaks me and doesn't see, who doesn't understand why I'm broken, and to say that it hurts would be an understatement. To say that I'm sad would be putting it lightly, but to say that I am strong enough to make it through would be the truth. I have friends in my corner, I have God on my side, and I have a heart that is strong enough to make it through a million heartbreaks and still love unconditionally and for that I am thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-8950633214362361914?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8950633214362361914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8950633214362361914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8950633214362361914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8950633214362361914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/07/so-peter-youve-become-pirate.html' title='So, Peter, you&apos;ve become a pirate...'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2395088097573040443</id><published>2010-05-11T00:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T00:28:49.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>f I open both of my eyes,I still see an empty space, so empty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfPKugH77h0"&gt;But if I keep them closed Then there's still a chance that something is out there&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfPKugH77h0"&gt;-Frozen Creek by Circa Survive&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't describe how I feel right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;confused&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hurt &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;happy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the strangest thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've come to realize that I can not trust my heart to tell me the truth about anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or maybe I can only trust my heart to tell me the truth about everything?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure which&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I know is that right now I find myself torn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my heart hurts because it's lost hope in something beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my heart smiles because it found something it didn't know it was missing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it doesn't make sense really&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;on one hand, I should have known better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should have known he'd never be good for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that he'd never want me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that we would never work, and that really it's for the best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should have realized that letting go was the best option&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no matter how hard it may prove to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but my heart is notorious for holding on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for fighting against all odds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It loses most of the time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but it keeps fighting in hopes that one day it will win&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the other hand...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he should never have existed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he should never have gotten in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what it is about him&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I can't shake him from my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's gone, and he won't be back, and yet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I search for him everywhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know he won't be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I can't help but to look&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he opened my eyes to things I didn't know existed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he made me feel things I didn't realize I could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at least not right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even in his absence, he touches my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he makes me smile with a single note&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's weird&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;very weird&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I could make sense of it, but I can't&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so my plan. For tonight, is to let go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to let go of the first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to revel in the second&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ultimately, I will have to let go of that too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but for now I'll hold on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to hold on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because he gives me hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I know my heart won't last without that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ps&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave for London in 3 days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you know it takes 3-4 weeks to break an addiction?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let the game begin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2395088097573040443?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2395088097573040443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2395088097573040443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2395088097573040443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2395088097573040443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/05/f-i-open-both-of-my-eyesi-still-see.html' title='f I open both of my eyes,I still see an empty space, so empty'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7201449613956245255</id><published>2010-04-10T03:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T03:23:22.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>After all we're only human</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;always fighting what we're feeling&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;hurt instead of healing&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Jon McLaughlin "Human"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We all have one...you know, that person that we love with all of our hearts. The one that we will do anything for, give everything for. Some of us are lucky enough to call that person our own, but for a good majority of the world that person is the best friend, the guy next door, the cute friend. They're the guys that never notice us as anything more than friends despite our constant efforts otherwise. We're put in the dilemma of deciding between confessing said feelings or holding onto what we have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Logic, would say that we should speak up. Nothing can change if the truth is not acknowledged, but hearts are not okay with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I wrote a poem one night about how hard it is to let go, and while I know that in my situation the truth is obviously the best option, timing is also important and right now it would be unfair to say anything....and that sucks. a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;unbreakable&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I understand not the logic of hearts&lt;br /&gt;As they sit and hold fast to each of their parts&lt;br /&gt;They keep all of their secrets locked deeply inside&lt;br /&gt;Secrets they think it quite best that they hide&lt;br /&gt;You see hearts fear the pain of letting you in&lt;br /&gt;Afraid to chance feeling whole again&lt;br /&gt;They fight you right to the bitter end&lt;br /&gt;Until they explode&lt;br /&gt;Having broken within&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken hearts may eventually mend&lt;br /&gt;but a missed opportunity might not come again.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7201449613956245255?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7201449613956245255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7201449613956245255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7201449613956245255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7201449613956245255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/04/after-all-were-only-human.html' title='After all we&apos;re only human'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2765083654016495594</id><published>2010-03-23T22:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T22:59:03.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't stop believing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;hold onto that feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;-Journey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;If you know anything about Jonathan Davis and I, then you know, when it comes to men, we are incredibly picky. It takes a lot to turn our heads. At the moment these are the men who have done that and here's why :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neil Hopkins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1AWXZDTI/AAAAAAAAALQ/JthYf0Io5Jc/s1600-h/200px-Neil_Hopkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1AWXZDTI/AAAAAAAAALQ/JthYf0Io5Jc/s320/200px-Neil_Hopkins.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452017472772836658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just one look into his dreamy blue eyes, and I'm certain you fell in love too. I mean have you met this guy?! (We haven't, but we want to.) He's pretty and he's a talented actor playing Liam Pace on our all-time favorite show ever, LOST, and a talented musician. Yup. This guy's on our list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jud Richardson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1AWXZDTI/AAAAAAAAALQ/JthYf0Io5Jc/s1600-h/200px-Neil_Hopkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1AmLAlZI/AAAAAAAAALY/00FJS1DRcIw/s320/pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452017477015868818" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cute barista who works at Fountain City Coffee. He's funny and charming. The only guy who made our list that we've actually met, making him a top notch kinda guy. If you haven't met him. You should. He may have a girlfriend, but that doesn't stop us from finding him attractive. Congrats, Jud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joseph Gordon-Levitt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1ALMTJtI/AAAAAAAAALI/pgxa6tDR4uE/s1600-h/joseph-gordon-levitt-pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1ALMTJtI/AAAAAAAAALI/pgxa6tDR4uE/s320/joseph-gordon-levitt-pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452017469773522642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you seen (500) days of Summer? I don't think we need to say anything else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And last, but by far not least , the man who is actually at the top of our list and whom we would choose over all of the others....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1ALMTJtI/AAAAAAAAALI/pgxa6tDR4uE/s1600-h/joseph-gordon-levitt-pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jason Mraz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l0_7gD3II/AAAAAAAAALA/fauOiwU74hA/s1600-h/JasonMraz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l0_7gD3II/AAAAAAAAALA/fauOiwU74hA/s320/JasonMraz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452017465561439362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l0_M0zfJI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jsmoKogOqo4/s1600-h/jason-mraz-guitar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l0_M0zfJI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jsmoKogOqo4/s320/jason-mraz-guitar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452017453031980178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fun loving, peace bringing, love singing perfect man who stole our hearts with one sideways smile and a song (or a million songs). This guy has got it all. He's handsome...ugh gorgeous, he's got the voice of an angel, and the heart of a saint. He's a vegetarian, loves animals, and just wants to spread love to the world. Why he's still single is beyond the rest of the world, but we know it's because he's waiting for us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there you have it. Jono and I's list of men that we will one day marry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope you liked it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2765083654016495594?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2765083654016495594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2765083654016495594' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2765083654016495594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2765083654016495594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/03/dont-stop-believing.html' title='Don&apos;t stop believing'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/S6l1AWXZDTI/AAAAAAAAALQ/JthYf0Io5Jc/s72-c/200px-Neil_Hopkins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3481785461051272242</id><published>2010-03-14T23:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T23:41:52.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is how it works</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're young until you're not&lt;br /&gt;You love until you don't&lt;br /&gt;You try until you can't&lt;br /&gt;You laugh until you cry&lt;br /&gt;You cry until you laugh&lt;br /&gt;And everyone must breathe&lt;br /&gt;Until their dying breath&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;-&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; Regina Spektor "On the Radio" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm in a very weird mood today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i like it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it makes me want to do something daring &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to turn over a new leaf&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've decided that i've let fear run too much of my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i stop myself from doing things because i fear the consequences&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but life is about taking risks, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know that the people who care about me, truly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will be here for me always&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;despite my honesty and my drive to be truly myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i want to go on an adventure&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love days out in the sun reading books&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love going on walks at night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or during the day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love listening to The Last Five Years with James&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and watching Grey's with Stephanie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love playing video games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i could spend all day watching chick flicks or listening to music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i color when i'm stressed out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i enjoy doing puzzles and i love to spend time by myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate sleeping alone, but i can't sleep with just anyone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love mythology. i would major in that if i could&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate learning about education. it's a waste. i just want to teach&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;jason mraz and ingrid michaelson have written the lyrics that define my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i cry a lot. i used to not cry at all, but i like crying. it's a release.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i spend too much money&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(i'm trying to get better about that)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i enjoy going to church &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i like blogging and of course&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watching Lost makes my life happier&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so i'm trying really hard to get better about this whole being happy thing because happy is so much better than sitting around and hoping the world will get better&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's better than hoping things will just fall in place, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one of my favorite quotes is, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Sometimes the only way is jumping; hope you're not afraid of heights."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think i'm ready to jump.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-3481785461051272242?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3481785461051272242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3481785461051272242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3481785461051272242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3481785461051272242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/03/this-is-how-it-works.html' title='This is how it works'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4863881775411341417</id><published>2010-03-08T11:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T12:18:52.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm sure you've heard it all before, but you never really had a doubt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Oasis "Wonderwall"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring Break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been waiting for this for so long. I've begun to realize that parts of my life are mirroring that of my freshmen year in Valdosta. I've got a best friend that's a boy who is constantly messing with my head, but has so much of my heart (and vice versa) that it's worth it just to be near him. A best friend that's a girl who loves pink and keeps me grounded. She's smart and confident and the perfect balance to the crazy unpredictable life I lead. A close relative desperately fighting a seemingly losing battle with cancer. A heart that questions it's worth and the actions of God while loving Him completely. Amazing friends who aren't in the same town anymore that I miss immensely. A television show that distracts me from reality. It's like I've stepped through the looking glass myself, and I'm looking at my life as it was only now I have the option to keep myself from making the same mistakes I once made. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring Break&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been waiting for this for so long. I won't let it pass me by again. I've decided I need to take this break to get in touch with myself. To strengthen relationships, to find peace within myself and to get in touch with all of the things that I love to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My plan: Today I'm going to Barnes and Noble. I intend to spend a copious amount of time there reading, talking, and reflecting. Tomorrow I have to work, but I won't work all day because I don't want to and I am not required to do so. I want to watch Lost so I will re-watch episodes of this season in preparation for tomorrow night's episode. Wed. I'm going to go to the health center. I've had a persistent pain in my chest that I should get checked out. I'll also go do my final exam at my friend Sam's house. Thursday I'll stay at home and knit while watching cute chick flicks. Clearly, I've gotten more in touch with my feminine side. I don't mind it. I've spent entirely too long at Seattle Grace Hospital lately, but when I'm not there I want to be back. So I guess I've fallen under Grey's spell? So it goes. It's a nice deviation from the "Island" (though it will NEVER compare). Friday I'm going to a concert in Atlanta. Jamie. Cullum. UGH can we say heaven? Jason Mraz would be ideal for repairing my heart (or maybe even Ingrid Michaelson?), but Jamie'll be a lot of fun too so I'm EXCITED!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In unrelated news, there are these 3 boys. I narrowed it down to 2 (I wrote one off as just a friend because they consequence of dating him and then breaking up badly was not something I wanted to risk.) One boy is my age. He's sweet, but moody. He's smart, and he says he's had a crush on me for awhile. Issue: I don't know how well we'll fit. I am, however, willing to see. The other option is younger, but has every other attribute I'd ever say I'd want in a guy minus 2 things 1. His age. I'm not in the mood for another young guy. 2. His drive. He makes it clear that he's attracted to me, but is afraid to take a chance. I don't want to wait around forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of now, I've chosen guy #1, but I can thankfully say that I'm not too concerned how things go with him. My life doesn't need a boy in it, but it wouldn't be opposed if one is worth it. I have a coffee date with him sometime this week. We'll see how that goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Spring :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-4863881775411341417?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4863881775411341417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4863881775411341417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4863881775411341417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4863881775411341417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/03/word-is-on-street-that-fire-in-your.html' title='The word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2944568670372272644</id><published>2010-02-17T11:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T12:35:29.131-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and insecure</title><content type='html'>You found me&lt;div&gt;-The Fray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are few things that make me really happy in life....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok that's a lie. I'm incredibly easily amused and the simpliest things make me giddy with excitement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one thing that makes me happier than anything else (right now atleast)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is Lost :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Duh. I find that when I'm having a particularly moody day, all I need to feel better is a little Lost. I just pick a character, pick an episode and whooosh I'm transported to an island where nothing is quite as it seems...or is it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To a place where I laugh, I cry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I go through every human emotion possible, and for those 42 glorious minutes I forget all about any troubles that I'm going through and become wholly invested in theirs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once I was drunk and I wrote a poem about Lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will now share it with the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sawyer and Hurley&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jack, Sun, and Kate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lost. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The addiction I can't seem to shake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It makes me so happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Makes my little heart soar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On those days, on the Island, where I learn even more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of the mysteries I've pondered and often theorized&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(My friends have told me to re-think my priorities)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't help that I'm happy when I find their doing well&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't help that I'm angry when they end up in peril &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And boy, do I cry when Fate choses to end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the life of those characters I now call my friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's more than a passing addiction I have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lost: the show that never fails to make me glad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-2944568670372272644?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2944568670372272644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2944568670372272644' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2944568670372272644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2944568670372272644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/02/lost-and-insecure.html' title='Lost and insecure'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3933174645504898449</id><published>2010-01-24T23:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T23:49:03.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm like a shooting star, I've come so far</title><content type='html'>I can't go back to where I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;-Aladdin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's...chill :) I'm doing much better than I was during my previous post. I figured I would be...or at least I really hoped I would. I think when it comes down to it I realize some things in life are better left forgotten and that whole ordeal is one of them, but it has made me come to a few realizations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I hate the saying, "I love you enough to let you go."&lt;br /&gt;That makes absolutely no sense. If you love someone, don't let them go. Hold on to them. Fight for them. Prove to them that they are worth your time and effort. My friend Doug, said, "I always thought the first phrase was meant to say "My love for you is  inconvenient so I'd rather leave than deal with it." and I agree whole heartedly. Saying you love someone enough to "let them go" is cowardly and selfish. Love fixes things rather than breaks them..but that's just my opinion. Expect more on that another time though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I greatly value my alone time.&lt;br /&gt;I hate coming home to someone sitting on my sofa. After a long day, I really just want to sit by myself and read or watch a movie or just do nothing at all. I think having allowing a friend, even one I love as much as Rusty, to live with me was a horrible idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I find a lot of people incredibly frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;I find that more and more things visibly annoy me...and I'm too apathetic to care. Is this a bad thing? Sometimes, but for the most part I think it's sign of me coming into my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. As much as I despise the month of February, I would love for the next 9 days to race by so that I can watch Lost.&lt;br /&gt;I think that God intentionally put the premiere in the month that generally leaves me depressed because he knew I'd need a 'pick-me-up to keep me out of my head. Focusing on Lost will keep me from remembering why I hate February so come on Lost!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end for now. I'm off to bed :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3933174645504898449?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3933174645504898449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3933174645504898449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3933174645504898449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3933174645504898449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-like-shooting-star-ive-come-so-far.html' title='I&apos;m like a shooting star, I&apos;ve come so far'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1441087827301757711</id><published>2010-01-03T21:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T22:22:09.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh this is the start of something good</title><content type='html'>don't you agree?&lt;div&gt;-Gavin Degraw "Follow Through"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So 2010....it already feels different. My "goal" for this year is simply to be happier...to do any and everything I can to make myself (and the people around me) feel better about their lives and the world so that's my goal. Thus far I've done quite well. I rang in the new year in Kennesaw, GA for Stephanie Burnett's birthday (she's my person) and I loved it! Everyone I was with made it a blast and I couldn't picture myself anywhere else. Now that I'm back in Columbus I've spent a lot of time just relaxing and doing exactly what I want to do. I've decided to not let myself get stressed out with things I can not control anymore. It's a beautiful feeling. I hang out with whomever I want and I don't pretend to hang out with anyone I don't really want to. Last year was uncharacteristically stressful, and I'm not sure why, but I shan't have a repeat. I do, however, love the way I rang in 2009 so I'll end this blog with a video of last year's exploits. Hope you enjoy! Happy new millenium!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-84a051a6d718c934" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D84a051a6d718c934%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331334719%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7EC0FB860917EB498C6F7A1F1242CD6251C4B7CD.1AA7D49F5F7A6F6A73456EA79529FC4B76115725%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D84a051a6d718c934%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DOA--CNJdMXZVQFm_yQK4YM9-RWM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D84a051a6d718c934%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331334719%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7EC0FB860917EB498C6F7A1F1242CD6251C4B7CD.1AA7D49F5F7A6F6A73456EA79529FC4B76115725%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D84a051a6d718c934%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DOA--CNJdMXZVQFm_yQK4YM9-RWM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-1441087827301757711?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=84a051a6d718c934&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1441087827301757711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1441087827301757711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1441087827301757711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1441087827301757711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2010/01/oh-this-is-start-of-something-good.html' title='Oh this is the start of something good'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4945283816105769848</id><published>2009-12-29T19:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T19:34:58.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I will sing you morning lullabies</title><content type='html'>You are beautiful and peaceful this way&lt;div&gt;-Ingrid Michaelson "Morning Lullabies"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2009 is coming to an end and 2010 is about to begin. This year has been an exciting one to say the least. Starting grad school was an interesting experience. My classes feel like a waste of time, but that's alright it will all pay off in the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas this year was completely unexpected. In my mind, I wasn't really getting anything at all because I already had everything I needed. As cheesy as it sounds I'm so content with my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have amazing friends who are always there for me (and trust me it took forever to find true friends like that).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a great family that loves me unconditionally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a phenomenal boyfriend who loves to make me smile and is content to go for walks by the river or just chill out and watch The Food Network with me. He's the sweetest guy of my entire life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn't really ask for anything else, but my parents found a way to surprise me anyway!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They bought me a PS3 which I jokingly asked for so now I have a blue ray player and an awesome game system.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've spent the break relaxing with my mom and watching Dexter (She's almost done with Season 3 and she'd never seen an episode when I came to town last week!) and hanging out with my brother and his girlfriend (who's kind of dumb..she thought a river was the beach, but she's nice though I'm still not sure if she likes my brother for who he is or for the money she thinks he has.) I've talked to a few friends who have called me and I've done a whole lot of nothing which I don't think I've ever willingly done. I've missed Chad immensely, which is weird for me, and I think that's a testament to how much I like him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good, and now I'm ready to get back to Columbus and spend time with my wonderful friends that I miss there, but before that I'm going to Atlanta to spend the New Year with Fanny and celebrate her birthday!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you're all have had a happy Christmas and I wish you the greatest new year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4945283816105769848?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4945283816105769848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4945283816105769848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4945283816105769848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4945283816105769848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-will-sing-you-morning-lullabies.html' title='I will sing you morning lullabies'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-6954687934950922785</id><published>2009-12-15T23:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T23:30:47.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:9px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;waiting on the world to change.-John Mayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;These are the quotes from my facebook. I wanted new ones, but I wanted to save these. I think quotes say a lot about a person. There favorites show where their hearts truly lie, don't you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;"Sometimes the only way is jumping, hope you're not afraid of heights."-Gavin DeGraw &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:9px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; "Love never fails." 1 Corinthians 13:8  "...it takes no time to fall in love, but it takes you years to know what love is."-Jason Mraz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:9px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; "Wisdom always chooses these black eyes and these bruises over the heartache that they say never completely goes away" -Relient K &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."- 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; "Above ALL else guard your heart for it is the well spring of life."- Proverbs 4:23 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; "Words left unspoken leave a heart that is broken."- Man Apart  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;"Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex. We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we should be woo'd and were not made to woo."-A Midsummer Night's Dream II.i 240-3  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;"Wouldn't it just rock and roll if liking someone meant they had to like you back?" - Pushing Daisies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; "..if there is anything imperfect in my life. blame Love, He is the cause of all my strife"-Louise Labe  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;"Sometimes the truth isn't good enough. Sometimes people deserve more." -Harvey Dent "The Dark Knight" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; When it comes to men who are romantically interested in you, its really simple. Just ignore everything they say and only pay attention to what they do.-Randy Pausch "The Last Lecture" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade. -The Holiday  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;"All we really need to survive is one person who truly loves us."-Penny Widmore  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with. -Juno's Dad &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt; People who pick and chose when they want to be there for you aren't real friends. As long as you have one or two people who are truly there for you, that's all you need.-Mom  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;God gives you gifts and you end up using them where He wants you to and that's not always where you choose.-Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion love actually is all around. " - Love Actually"  It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more-Albus Dumbledore.  When I fall in love I take my time, there's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind. You can turn off the sun, but I'm still gonna shine. -Jason Mraz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/3977538014743804836-6954687934950922785?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/6954687934950922785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=6954687934950922785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6954687934950922785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6954687934950922785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/12/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3674092712507028994</id><published>2009-10-04T12:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T13:09:21.597-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember when it rained</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I felt the ground and looked up high and called your name&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Josh Groban "Remember When it Rained"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I stumbled across a poem that I wrote for my friend Chris in February of 2005. It broke my heart to read it because it reminds me of that place when I was at my lowest. Life may get hard at times, but it has yet to reach that point again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last time I saw Chris he was walking home in the rain, and my friend Colby and I ran out to walk with him. He didn't feel like he fit. He did. He didn't feel like he was loved. He was. He felt that his time on Earth was done. It wasn't. Not for me at least. I miss him. I always will, but he's taught me so much about life, and I think I've forgotten that. I hate writing so the fact that I wrote a poem for him is a huge testament to his life. I was young. It's badly written, but it has the heart of a broken college freshmen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I know you’ll never get this&lt;br /&gt;But deep inside I know&lt;br /&gt;That you knew how much you meant to me&lt;br /&gt;Though I never told you so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have tried to call you&lt;br /&gt;I should have saved your day&lt;br /&gt;But now you’re gone and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you more than many&lt;br /&gt;And I love you more than some&lt;br /&gt;And I wish that you were near me&lt;br /&gt;I’m longing for your hug&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’ve changed my life forever&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never be the same&lt;br /&gt;I’m glad I changed. You’re worth it&lt;br /&gt;I wish you could say the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have talked to you&lt;br /&gt;And told you how I felt&lt;br /&gt;I trusted you more than most other people that I have met&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You made my best friend happy&lt;br /&gt;You helped him find a joy&lt;br /&gt;That no one else could give him&lt;br /&gt;That helps me love you more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wishing’s pointless now&lt;br /&gt;You’ll never hear me plee&lt;br /&gt;I hope you understand&lt;br /&gt;All the things you mean to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that you are gone now&lt;br /&gt;But I hope you understood that&lt;br /&gt;I love you Chris and deep inside you’ll always be my friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3674092712507028994?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3674092712507028994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3674092712507028994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3674092712507028994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3674092712507028994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/10/remember-when-it-rained.html' title='Remember when it rained'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7078742368618426775</id><published>2009-10-01T00:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T00:37:20.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's sunny with a high of 75</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;since you took my heavy heart and made it light&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "High of 75"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My day has consisted of...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;reading a book in class instead of paying attention to my teacher talk about racism&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;taking my car to Advanced Auto Parts with Rusty to get my battery replaced (it has to stay overnight because it's leaking 2.93 energy even when everything's turned off)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;going to free dinner with the boys&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a lovely Barnes and Noble/Toys R Us adventure with Sam May&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glee with Stephanie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dexter with Rusty followed by a pillow fight (I'd like to declare myself the winner, but I'm certain he'd disagree haha)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a wrestling match with James (winner yet to be determined)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;reading one of the new books I bought accompanied by U2 on my iPod&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does this describe how I feel about my life right now? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but it was a good day, and I feel like that deserves attention, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-7078742368618426775?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7078742368618426775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7078742368618426775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7078742368618426775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7078742368618426775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-sunny-with-high-of-75.html' title='It&apos;s sunny with a high of 75'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4648301333403443555</id><published>2009-09-12T09:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T09:53:24.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I pull my heart out, reconstruct</title><content type='html'>but in the end it's nothing, but a shell of what I had when I first started.&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "Devastation and Reform"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pretty sure that at this point in my life, I've been screwed over so many times that I'm practically in capable of trusting another human being with my heart. I'm certain I have a box here somewhere that I can put it in and keep it under lock and key. It'll eventually wilt and turn into something unusable, but is that really worse than constantly having it broken and then re built? I don't think it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The space between the tears we cry is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4648301333403443555?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4648301333403443555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4648301333403443555' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4648301333403443555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4648301333403443555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-pull-my-heart-out-reconstruct.html' title='I pull my heart out, reconstruct'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2080424815743587636</id><published>2009-09-06T05:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T07:20:33.725-04:00</updated><title type='text'>She's a rainbow and she loves the simple life</title><content type='html'>knows I'll go crazy if I don't go crazy tonight.&lt;div&gt;-U2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up tonight completely freaked out. I've always been a person of confidence, but something was gnawing on my chest and I couldn't shake it. I felt alone. lost. deserted. I'm normally very good at keeping myself together, but for some reason this time I couldn't do it. I needed someone around to make me feel whole, but there was no one around for me to talk to. I contemplated calling a few people that I felt really close to, but for numerous reasons I couldn't talk to them. For some, I knew that I actually needed to talk, and despite the love I have for them I know it would have turned into a conversation only about them, and that would only make me feel worse because it was yet another thing I wasn't a part of. For others, I didn't trust them. I could feel that they were lying to me about certain aspects of our relationship and I didn't need a lie. For others, and these were the ones that hurt the most, I felt like they wouldn't care. I felt that if I called them crying they would call me over-emotional and needy. I had a few friends that I knew would listen to me, but I didn't want to freak them out. I knew that if I called them crying and explained how I felt they would become overly concerned and I didn't want to worry anyone. In the end I decided to call Fanny. She was asleep. I kind of figured she would be, and I was okay with that. I knew that I could talk to her later and that it'd be ok, but I still just needed SOMEONE to just talk to me. I called Scott. He answered. He was awake. I truly believe that God puts people in your life for a reason, and the epitome of that for me is Scott Anthony Eldridge. He was laughing when I called because he'd literally just woken up and he couldn't figure out why he was awake and then I called. When he realized I was crying he did everything he could to calm me down. I hate crying so it worked. We talked for a really long time and in the end we worked out exactly what was wrong with me. I have a lot of people that consider me a friend, but for the most part I feel like I'm currently living my life on the outside looking in. I feel like the people that are "closest" to me aren't, and I feel like I'm living fairly alone right now. I feel used and under-appreciated. I feel like I'm falling a part in a way. I yearn to have just one person who actually cares about how I'm feeling and takes time out of their day to talk to me about it. I have some amazing friends. I know that I do. They make me happy and I really enjoy their company, but I still find myself feeling alone and I hate it. Right now, however, after talking to Scott I feel a bit better. I know that I can find a place where I belong it'll just take time, I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2080424815743587636?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2080424815743587636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2080424815743587636' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2080424815743587636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2080424815743587636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/09/shes-rainbow-and-she-loves-simple-life.html' title='She&apos;s a rainbow and she loves the simple life'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7266938943571539705</id><published>2009-08-27T00:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T00:50:31.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everlasting Your light will shine when all else fades</title><content type='html'>Never ending Your glory goes beyond on all praise.&lt;div&gt;-Hillsong United "From The Inside Out"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going insane. I say this every year, but now I'm certain of it. I decided today that I should set up a meeting with the counseling center because it's not even September and I've already come close to suffering from a breakdown...on my birthday of all days. Talk about stressful. I love being a grad assistant because it's nice working with people who actually think you're worth something, but I hate it because I don't feel like people respect me and I don't see how I can command that respect without losing their friendship. I mean I suppose anyone who doesn't respect me doesn't deserve it, but idk I'm just weird about things like that.  Scott bought me a journal for my birthday. I'm going to try to write in it, but we'll see. Blogging is easier because I can quickly type my rants and then just go. I really just want to pull out all of my hair right now, but I feel like this storm is passing quickly. Despite the stress that I'm under I find that slowly, but surely I'm getting a harder shell and becoming more and more apathetic to other people. I already have an AMAZING core group of friends. I don't need more. I obviously love meeting new people and making new friends and I'm not opposed to it in the future by any means, but what I feel is that I already have so many wonderful people in my life right now that should I not make any more friends I'm ok with that. The people I surround myself with now love me for who I am and I appreciate that more than I can say. I don't need to be someone I'm not in order to get more friends or to keep people around me who don't want to understand me/don't care about me enough to respect me. Yup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7266938943571539705?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7266938943571539705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7266938943571539705' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7266938943571539705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7266938943571539705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/08/everlasting-your-light-will-shine-when.html' title='Everlasting Your light will shine when all else fades'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1297129109380663142</id><published>2009-08-06T16:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T16:15:22.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When everything seems like the movies</title><content type='html'>yeah you bleed just to know you're alive :)&lt;div&gt;-Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow an end to summer it has been. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw Jason Mraz with Jono again and loved EVERY minute of it. I feel like everyone should have an experience like that on a monthly basis. The overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude during that concert was unreal and kept me on a high for a good week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now I'm lying in a hotel room in Beaufort, South Carolina. I spent the day on Parris Island with Rusty and his family and even though it was incredibly hot, and I was running on an hour of sleep since like 8am the previous day...it was the best day I've had all summer. Seeing Rusty made my heart soar. I missed him more than I realized and I loved just being in his presence. When I finally got to hug him I felt myself tearing up, but I stopped myself from actually crying because I figured if I started I wouldn't be able to stop haha. I was just so excited to see him. His mom said that she felt like we were separated at birth because of how deep our friendship is. It's true. He really is my best friend and I'm thankful to have him in my life. The best part about seeing him was that even though he's been going through basic all summer....he hasn't really changed. He's more mature, and he's got no hair haha but other than that he's the same Rusty that I've known and loved! Hooray!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check in starts soon and RA training will be finishing up. I'm excited for the year to start and to see how things change (because they seem to every year) I think for once it will be for the better and I really cannot wait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to take a nap now before dinner!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-1297129109380663142?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1297129109380663142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1297129109380663142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1297129109380663142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1297129109380663142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-everything-seems-like-movies.html' title='When everything seems like the movies'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1895397688036434556</id><published>2009-07-21T00:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T01:08:35.830-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you do it?</title><content type='html'>Make me feel like I do?&lt;div&gt;-Incubus "Stellar"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really happy. I have my low points but I never remember them when the sun comes up. I write less when I'm happy because I occupy myself with other things than just moping around and feeling sorry for myself. I guess that makes sense. When I'm miserable I try to sort out how I'm feeling and I blog in an attempt to understand my own mind. When I'm happy, I just kinda go with it. Let's see though. I've officially had this blog for a year and that's nice. I'm going to see Jason Mraz in concert with Jono on Monday...Woohoo! I really can't wait. This weekend is my friend Maria's wedding! It blows my mind. I really can't fathom getting married right now, but that's probably because I'm so content with my life as it is and I don't really know if I can incorporate someone else into it, yet. Once I'm more settled maybe, but I still crave adventure right now haha James is coming with me to the wedding. I'm pretty excited for him to meet some of my other Camden friends. I feel like that'll be an interesting experience. We're not talking for the week because he doesn't think I miss him enough. Silly boy. Of course I miss him when he's not around. I miss all of my friends when I'm not near them. I mean really? I text him everyday and we talk...all the time, I guess he doesn't see that I do those things because I miss him. It's ok though because I'm always busy through the week so not texting him won't be too hard. I just hate being "tested" if that makes sense. I feel like I prove my love for my friends all the time. I strive to at least. One of my favorite quotes of all time is "Let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth." I feel like we should always show our feelings and not just say them. I've done that. If he doesn't see it. So it goes haha. Anyway. I see Rusty in 16 days! I really cannot wait! It's been far too long and I miss him more than I can ever express. These are the things that are keeping me happy. God's doing amazing things in my life right now. I have a meeting on Wednesday with Dr. Brewbaker about my Masters. Hopefully he'll tell me whether or not I was actually accepted. CSU is so slow doing EVERYTHING! Jeepers! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well that's all for now friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope your lives are filled with love and happiness too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-1895397688036434556?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1895397688036434556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1895397688036434556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1895397688036434556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1895397688036434556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-do-you-do-it.html' title='How do you do it?'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5015022002396699153</id><published>2009-07-06T18:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T23:46:50.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna do what I don't want to, I'm gonna live my life</title><content type='html'>shining like a diamond, rolling with the dice, standing on the ledge to show the wind how to fly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Bon Jovi "Have a Nice Day"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm back in Columbus and it's nice. My apartment is beautiful. I have great friends to hang out with, everything is just going so well. I'm happy, but it's funny because I find myself the most content when I'm sitting in my room watching Hulu or writing to Rusty. I miss him so freaking much I can barely stand it. I like having the option of hanging out with friends, but I also love that I can spend time alone in my room. It gets lonely at night, but for the most part I'm just really happy. I think I can be content alone. I like the idea of having someone around, but right now I really love the peace and serenity of finding time to yourself. I hope I can always say that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love always,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India&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/3977538014743804836-5015022002396699153?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5015022002396699153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5015022002396699153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5015022002396699153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5015022002396699153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-gonna-do-what-i-dont-want-to-im.html' title='I&apos;m gonna do what I don&apos;t want to, I&apos;m gonna live my life'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1164456092993335446</id><published>2009-06-27T13:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T15:51:51.871-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Far longer than forever</title><content type='html'>like no love ever known&lt;div&gt;-The Swan Princess&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm bored and I was browsing Netflix and saw The Swan Princess on my watch instantly suggestions! I haven't seen that movie in forever so I figured hey why not do a quick commentary of this great animated feature! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;0:30-I realize that this is the first time I've ever seen this movie without that Pilsbury commercial for chocolate brownies that's on the VHS version! That commercial always made me hungry....mmm brownies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:06-Once upon a time there was king named William who ruled a large and mighty kingdom and yet he was sad because he was growing old and had no child to inherit the throne- I have a problem with this...where's the queen?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:23-Then one day a baby was born...a princess-STILL NO QUEEN. Who's Odette's mom?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:35-Oh yes let's arrange a marriage between our kids to join our kingdoms forgetting the fact that we're both clearly single (since Odette's mom is NEVER mentioned).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2:10-And as in every animated film everyone fails to notice the creepy guy lurking in the back...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2:30-Lesson learned: If someone wants to destroy your kingdom don't just banish him. Shoot him in the head. K thanks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3:07-Of course they forgot the threat of the evil bad guy who wanted to kill everyone. Let's only think of hooking up our kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4:37-"I can't believe I'm stuck with her all summer. I bet she doesn't wrestle, hunt, or box"- Cause you do?! You're like 6!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6:00- The awkward pre-teen years, Odette turns into a freakly red head with pig tails. Why do they make red heads seem ugly? I like them :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6:44-I hate that the boy stays cute through out his entire childhood, but Odette is awkward :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7:36-I just realized she always wears that necklace Derek gave her as a baby :) Cuuuute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8:36-"I could do much better I am sure" "He's so immature" followed shortly by "I see him smiling and my knees start buckling" "She started out as such an ugly duckling and somehow suddenly became and a swan"....so they've hated each other forever ,but not that they see each other grown up they're in love? Lies. Pure lust I tell you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11:12-"Is beauty all that matters to you?" "What else is there?" No more wedding haha fail Prince Derek&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13:26-Enter creepy man again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14:57-Kill the bad guy before he kills you and leaves you with cryptic messages. "It's not what it seems." Why couldn't he just say "Hey Rothbert can change into a dragon thing and he kidnapped Odette"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17:03- He's like 50 years older than her! Of course she won't marry him! He's ancient!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19:00-"I am an artist, not a boar!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25:14-Speed the turtle is the best :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26:26-"Whatchu think I was doing with the flowers and the alligators going CHOMP CHOMP?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27:03-"It's almost like you're here with me although we're far apart" Cheesy haha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28:00-I love that in musicals they always know when and what the other person is singing so well that they can harmonize and pick up where they leave off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31:06-"Every night you ask the same question and every night I give you the same answer. I'd rather die first."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;37:00-"I"m on a dangerous mission with a lame turtle! You're gonna get us all killed!" hahahaha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;43:20-When I was a kid I was always scared that Derek would shoot swan Odette. Even after I'd seen it like 50 times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;52:21-Why do the bad guys get the best songs?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;56:15-I'm mad his mom didn't care at all that he just dunked her hair into the punch!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;59:15-I always thought the ball scene was hilarious. Princesses with medal on their faces and corn in their hair?! WTH?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:00-"Small, good swimmer, green. Good grief! You're talking about me!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:03-Guys in sparkly pants....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:04-Queen crawling on the floor....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:10-Derek's an idiot. He should have known Odette wouldn't be able to get a new dress!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:11-"No more Mr. Nice Guy no siree!" I love the bad guys! They're so funny!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:15-Only if you defeat ME. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:17- *sniff sniff* I love you for your kindness and courage...I always have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:20-The end of this movie kinda reminds me of the end of the Pride and Prejudice with Keira Knightley :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*sigh* Hooray for reminiscing on old school cartoons!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-1164456092993335446?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1164456092993335446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1164456092993335446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1164456092993335446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1164456092993335446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/06/far-longer-than-forever.html' title='Far longer than forever'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7114016345411164764</id><published>2009-06-25T15:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T19:59:21.468-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish I knew you way back when</title><content type='html'>before you were part of my plans&lt;div&gt;I think that we would have been friends :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "You'll Always Be My Best Friend"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The past few days I have been in Louisiana. It was fairly uneventful, I watched a plethora of movies (my brother has the largest collection I have ever seen!) and spent a lot of time virtually away from cell phone service and the companionship of any person. As my brother and I were driving back we drove through a beautiful city of blinding lights. New Orleans. It was around 2:30 A.M. but you would have thought it was much earlier. The city was bustling with life. As we continued through I was glued to my window. The buildings were all beautifully lit up and there were cars and people everywhere. Eventually I noticed a few buildings that looked as though they were significantly damaged. The after effects of a hurricane. They would have escaped my noticed, but for some reason they shown the brightest in my eyes. A simple of the damage that this beautiful city had endured, but had not let tear it apart. Continuing on the road I also noticed houses in repair. A sign of hope. Though the city had been damaged and some of it would never mend there was also a large amount of work being done to restore the broken parts. It made me smile as my brother and I continued our long trek back to Georgia. I stared up at the night sky and revealed in its beauty. The stars have always been my greatest friends. Whenever I see them I am reminded of all of the beauty in the world and I can not feel alone or sad at all, but the stars are often hidden by the busyness of life making me forget their beauty. I fell asleep for an hour on our 14 hour journey and even though it was really uncomfortable. I slept fairly peacefully for once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got back home I found a letter and a very large envelope. The letter was from Rusty so I anxiously opened it. Inside was by far the greatest letter I'd ever received, but to explain it I'll have to back track.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Infinite love and gratitude day, I decided to show my love for the world by writing a few letters to people I didn't think I recognized enough, and  also attempting to make a few people that I don't know feel special. Because he is going through Basic training for the Marines (a very difficult and draining process) I write Rusty a letter almost every other day  to encourage him and give him support so of course he was included in my list of people to send a message to. I wrote down a few of the reasons that I loved and missed him and included pictures so that he could have a face to put with his letters for once :) His response was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever received. He proceed to break down all of the things he also loved about me, but they were things that I didn't know he noticed or thought. It made me cry. Sometimes it's just nice to know that when the world seems a little darker you have a bright light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel. I love Rusty. He's such an amazing friend and even though he is far away I can still feel his love and kindness in my heart and he never ceases to make me smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SkQPFXRC9OI/AAAAAAAAAI8/CBtrXVRb4i8/s320/Photo+190.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351418842042266850" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh P.S. the large envelope contained my diploma! Hooray!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7114016345411164764?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7114016345411164764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7114016345411164764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7114016345411164764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7114016345411164764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-wish-i-knew-you-way-back-when.html' title='I wish I knew you way back when'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SkQPFXRC9OI/AAAAAAAAAI8/CBtrXVRb4i8/s72-c/Photo+190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-751618733530182527</id><published>2009-06-15T20:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:05:24.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And if your glass heart should crack</title><content type='html'>and for a second you turn back.&lt;div&gt;-U2 "Walk On"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend has been very interesting to say the very least. Probably the most enlightening trip I've taken this summer. I had to drive to Savannah to take the GRE (which as far as I know I passed!) after the test I was going to hang out with my friend Ben. He couldn't give me directions to him right away so I drove around looking for downtown (I had to call Lydia because I had no idea which way to go haha) once I talked to Ben he gave me very simple directions (or so I thought) on how to get to him. I start driving and I'm doing great until I try to find the correct "exit" to turn on. I realize after awhile that I have been driving entirely too long so I call him. I'd apparently gone too far so I turn around. I'm supposed to make a left at the McDonald's...well little did I know there are 2 roads next to the McDonald's one that puts you on I-95 and the other that takes you to Ben's church. Guess which road I take. I tried to turn around once I realized I was going the wrong way, but a car was behind me so I had to get on the interstate. It's alright...I'll just take the first exit I come to and turn around. Everything will be fine and I won't be late, right? Wrong. I take the first exit I come to and it just happens to put me on I-16! UGH so I take the first exit I come to yet again and then I turn around and get back on 16. Everything should be fine now right and I'm only a minute late. If I drive fast enough (and trust me I was going over 90 mph...good thing there weren't any cops around!) So I turn onto 95 and start looking for my exit. Here's where I fail, yet again. I turned onto 95 South  instead of North. At this point I'm pretty pissed at my stupidity. I turn BACK around and finally end up taking the right exit. I turn by the McDonald's and make it to the church. Ben told me to sit in the front left so I can see him. I go inside and this church is HUGE! I stop at the front desk to ask the woman for directions and she happily puts on her shoes and escorts me to the sanctuary. She points out on the way the church book store and coffee shop (wow) and then shows the the door I should go in. When I enter the sanctuary it is very dark and there is a soft piano playing (I later realize Ben's the one playing piano) they're in the middle of communion! I slip into a seat on the left side and wait to see if Ben notices me. He didn't. As far as he knew I was still lost. I decide to wait until after the service (which was really good) to see him. Once the pastor dismisses the church I walk up to the band (which Ben is in) and listen to them finish their last song. He laughs at me for getting lost, but I expected that :) We hung out with his friends and ate dinner at Loco's. He tried to convince me to stay the night, but I'd promised James that I would go to church with him in the morning so after a lot of coaxing Ben finally took me back to my car. It was about 10 at night, and thankfully I wasn't tired yet. I drove all the way to Dublin and everything was fine...until I actually got into the city. There's no need to go into detail, but let's just say everything looks the same there at night. After James gave me directions to his house I made it perfectly found and found a note from his mother on the door telling me to come in and make myself at home. At this point I'm exhausted so I go to James's room, put on my pajamas, and lay down. About an hour later I hear James come in (he'd been at work) and he looks miserable. He hates his job. I try to comfort him, but I'm not a lot of help. I resort to reading him one of my favorite children's books ( My Mama Says There Aren't Any Zombies, Ghosts, Vampires, Monsters, Fiends, or Things..it's by the same woman who wrote Alexander and the blahblahblah. She's not very good with short titles is she?) It worked and he lightened up a bit. We stayed up talking and playing around until 5:15 which gave us 3 hours to sleep until James had to wake up for church in the morning. After church we came back and played with his niece Destiny (who's really cute but totally cheated at Candy Land) I played The Sims 3 for a bit while James played Warhammer. It was all very relaxing. I don't think I got lost anymore that trip (thankfully) Monday morning before I left, James and I went to Blackbird to get smoothies. On the ceiling most of the tiles are painted and one really stood out to me. Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option. It fit completely what I was feeling. On the drive back home I spent a good 3 hours with God, crying and laughing about my stupidity and here is where I reach the point of this entire blog post&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For quite sometime I've fooled myself into believing that if I could show people how I felt that maybe they would eventually feel the same way. That's not true. I also believed that despite my "friendship curse" as I like to call it, someone was going to be able to break it. So far, that's not true either. I realized that I have to let go. I can't linger and hope that eventually you'll come around. My heart said it's final goodbye, I cried, and I felt better. I can't be an option anymore. It hurts more than I've ever let on, but now I'm ready to move on. To make my life better and to feel happier all together. It won't be an easy road and I know that, but I'm going to try my hardest!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love you &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-751618733530182527?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/751618733530182527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=751618733530182527' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/751618733530182527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/751618733530182527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-if-your-glass-heart-should-crack.html' title='And if your glass heart should crack'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2549128444927869151</id><published>2009-06-10T23:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T23:48:54.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is your life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;...are you who you wanna be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;-Switchfoot "This is Your Life"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I hate the summer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate that I find myself lost in thought more than I find myself in a conversation with a friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate that the friends I thought I'd return to have neglected to communicate with me at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate that I find myself more disheartened than happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate that even though things are going so well in my life right now I can't see it because I'm blinded by my desire for things I can never have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate that I lack motivation to do most things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being sad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the other hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that even though I can't see him, Rusty writes me letters and they can always brighten my day no matter how badly I feel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that I've found a new love for Jane Austen even though love stories are probably the last thing I should be reading haha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that I have a new journal to write in and to help organize my thoughts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that I will soon journey to Louisiana to visit my brother :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my friends that have not forgotten me over the summer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that despite everything I hate...when morning comes I'll be happy again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2549128444927869151?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2549128444927869151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2549128444927869151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2549128444927869151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2549128444927869151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-is-your-life.html' title='This is your life'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2526809226198731206</id><published>2009-06-01T00:27:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T00:03:22.827-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I don't want the world to see me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;cause I don't think that they'd understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time alone always gives you time to think. This summer I've been provided with ample time and I've come to learn a lot about myself. It's funny because I feel like these are all things I've known and just kinda refused to admit. So it goes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I've learned that no matter how many times I move, my past will follow me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I've been running for the past 5 years and my history keeps repeating itself. Some of it I can't change or prevent, but you'd think I'd be smart enough to change the things I can...haha nope I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I've learned that I'm great at being a friend, but I'm not really relationship material.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I've always kind of thought I was though. In the end, however, I've noticed that I can only like someone I'm friends with, but once I'm friends with a guy he realizes that I'll do anything for him. Why waste that friendship, right? So I'm always the one left, mending their broken hearts, coaxing their new relationships, and sitting on the sidelines broken hearted because I know that no matter how "great" we are together or no matter how much they tell me they love me or I'm perfect or they care about me more than they've ever cared about any girl or best of all I understand them better than anyone else. It just really...really sucks. So it goes. I've questioned myself enough over it. I wonder am I not pretty enough, not funny enough, not cool enough...but I can't change who I am. I won't. So even though I know that I will always question these things, I also know that I'm happy with who I am. I like myself. I can't ask for much more than that, I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I've learned that sometimes people who say they are your friend. Really aren't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;You'd think I'd have learned this a long time ago. I just have trouble not trusting people. I'm a pleaser by nature so even people I don't like I will go out of my way to make them happy. I love seeing people smile, and when they do I can't help, but feel close to them. Even when I know they don't like more don't feel the same. I'm not an idiot. I know when people are bad news, but if you smile at me or if you give me the smallest inkling that you care I take that and run with it. I think I'm really good at constructing a fantasy about the way I want people to be in my mind and then convincing myself that it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I've learned that when left alone at night, my thoughts are rarely happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In turn, however, I've learned that no matter how deep my despair is when I go to bed...no matter how many tears I cry or how much my heart aches when I wake up in the morning I feel better and my pain is gone :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I've learned that I love my family with all of my heart...but I can't live with them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I've learned that my true friends are some of the most amazing people you will ever meet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This is no surprise. I've met a lot of jerks in my life, but the people that have stuck by me..the ones that have proved without a shadow of a doubt that they care..those people are so unbelievably amazing that sometimes when I think about them it brings tears to my eyes. I honestly can not fathom what I have done in my life to deserve you. You are such amazingly talented and kind people. It really does blow my mind and every day I honestly thank God for you. I couldn't imagine living without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite all of the things in my life that make me really sad, There's a lot that makes me really happy. I think that's why I have such funky mood swings. Sometimes I cry because I am so sad. I feel as though I will never amount to anything and that no one will ever truly love me for who I am and then other times my heart get so full that it could burst. I can't stop smiling and I just want to sing and hug the world because I'm so thankful for the wonderful things I have in my life. It's strange. I'm strange I know that, but if you could only see what I see in all of my amazing friends and family...you'd understand too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Just a few of my awesome friends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNjkaBAvWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/SJPIpeTMxlQ/s1600-h/2902_85538584364_500594364_2537895_6568186_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNjkaBAvWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/SJPIpeTMxlQ/s320/2902_85538584364_500594364_2537895_6568186_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342223060101545314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNjkW5uw0I/AAAAAAAAAIs/8a8ATQcj7mA/s320/n50505506_31502770_5900.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342223059265700674" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg-Jr7hLI/AAAAAAAAAIE/HTY9ZEfn0Zs/s1600-h/84011055_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg-Jr7hLI/AAAAAAAAAIE/HTY9ZEfn0Zs/s320/84011055_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342220203859870898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg-XZCSlI/AAAAAAAAAIM/X_FzRZuhbWY/s320/summer+024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342220207538719314" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNdeBDSlwI/AAAAAAAAAHM/PrqGXg8SJg0/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342216353251235586" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNeTDFPgjI/AAAAAAAAAHU/2DzQ43Keqi4/s320/DSCN0142.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342217264329359922" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg9wFCa5I/AAAAAAAAAH8/3s7g5j2QhY8/s320/n1114230014_30314546_9093.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342220196985858962" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg99KTxvI/AAAAAAAAAH0/xNh3Ah768Hc/s320/n50500098_31208245_6413.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342220200497628914" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNg9ta5XAI/AAAAAAAAAHs/vnUK31BKT1U/s320/n46200231_32419105_8785.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342220196272233474" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNfhMn1A9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/Lh5MzT5oA-k/s320/DSCN0128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342218606920139730" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNfg0PbTvI/AAAAAAAAAHc/QmrSv_dQu5I/s320/Photo+65.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342218600375340786" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;When everything's made to be broken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I just want you to know who I am...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;-Goo Goo Dolls "Iris"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2526809226198731206?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2526809226198731206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2526809226198731206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2526809226198731206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2526809226198731206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-i-dont-want-world-to-see-me.html' title='And I don&apos;t want the world to see me'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SiNjkaBAvWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/SJPIpeTMxlQ/s72-c/2902_85538584364_500594364_2537895_6568186_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3050803062430306442</id><published>2009-05-22T01:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T01:44:26.792-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All you can do is try to know who your friends are</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;as you head off to the war&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;-Regina Spektor "The Call"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to Summer tonight and she said something that actually blew my mind though it makes absolute sense.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can't be just friends with someone you're attracted to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My gosh. It was like my world crashed in around me. Everything was clearer then. So many of my friends I allow to affect me quite severely but those are always the friends that I'm attracted to. When others don't talk to me for weeks or months at a time, they don't return my phone calls or my texts I just shrug it off, but when the guys that I'm attracted to do these things it upsets me. I ruin our friendship because I can't handle it. I can't handle being just their friends. This isn't to say that I don't have guy friends that I'm attracted to that I'm not perfectly fine with because I do. I've always preferred male friends over female ones the difference is once you cross that line from friendship into something more the dynamic of your relationship changes. You can't just go back and pretend everything is exactly the same. It's not. It never really will be. Jealousy will always rear it's ugly head unless you are together. It's the only cure. OR unless you both find someone you are equally attracted to. Otherwise you are left in a never ending struggle with yourself unless you can find a way to completely separate you from that other persons life. It's horrible it really is, but the fact remains&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's the truth.&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/3977538014743804836-3050803062430306442?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3050803062430306442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3050803062430306442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3050803062430306442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3050803062430306442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/05/all-you-can-do-is-try-to-know-who-your.html' title='All you can do is try to know who your friends are'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2018725852267459288</id><published>2009-05-21T22:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T23:09:46.092-04:00</updated><title type='text'>These are the days of endless dreaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I feel the stillness of the sun and I feel fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Jamie Cullum "These Are The Days"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm spending this summer alone. For the most part. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been incredibly boring thus far. My mom says I don't know how to relax. She's probably right. I'm trying, but I've been so used to having something to do for the past few years that not having a job, not having friends, not having well anything to do at all is a little unnerving. As much as I hate it right now I can see why this break will be good for me. I've become so reliant upon others for my happiness lately. I've been surrounded by so many people constantly that I don't feel comfortable alone. I need someone around to make me feel special. to make me feel wanted. to make me feel loved. I should be able to find that comfort in myself. It's taken me awhile to get to this point so even  if nothing else comes from this summer I've learned my biggest flaw and that's better than I could have ever asked for. In my last blog, I prayed to God for happiness. I think this was his answer. My happiness is inside of myself. It's been there all along I just haven't known how to access it. I'm still figuring that out. It's not as easy as it sounds to go from finding happiness in others to finding it in yourself. I have begun to realize things that are essentially though and that's nice. I've learned that no matter what singing makes me happy. It's a great way to just let everything out. I've learned that I really am obsessed with Harry Potter and Lost...but happily so. Those are two things that bring absolute joy to my life. I've learned that Casting Crowns can make me cry because their lyrics often reflect how I feel about Jesus and humanity especially the lyrics &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A traveler is far away from home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The weight of their judgemental glances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Tells him that his chances are better out on the road&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But if we are the body&lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His arms reaching?&lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His hands healing?&lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His words teaching?&lt;br /&gt;And if we are the body&lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His feet going?&lt;br /&gt;Why is His love not showing them there is a way?&lt;br /&gt;There is a way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It just breaks my heart how judgmental people can be. So those lyrics always strike a chord in me. I know there's a lot more I need to learn about myself and a lot that I need to become comfortable with and slowly, but surely I'm getting there. If I don't change much more this summer so be it. I've already gotten much more than i could have ever asked for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thanks God &lt;3&lt;/div&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/3977538014743804836-2018725852267459288?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2018725852267459288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2018725852267459288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2018725852267459288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2018725852267459288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-are-days-of-endless-dreaming.html' title='These are the days of endless dreaming'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3885468100442913810</id><published>2009-05-13T02:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T02:31:47.747-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't belong here</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;feels like I don't belong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Switchfoot "Beautiful Letdown"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't understand my mind. Life is going so well right now. Seriously. It feels like everything is falling into place for my future. I find myself incredibly happy sometimes. I've mended all of the friendships that I'd broken. I have a plan to better my life. I'm going to spend lots of me time this summer. I don't have to be an RA next year, but I still get to be involved with all of my friends. What's the thing holding me back? I'm not quite sure, but I hate it when I realize I'm sad. I'm not supposed to be sad! Everything is going so well for me right now! Why can't I just be thankful? I realize this is my current prayer:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey God,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you. You've done so much for me. I don't even know how to begin to thank you. I don't deserve any of the things you've given me and yet you give them to me anyway. I hate to ask you for anything else, but I don't know where else to turn. Something's holding me back right now. Something's keeping me from being happy, and I was wondering if you could help me find that thing. Help me feel that happiness that I know is lurking just around the corner. I know that being happy isn't forever. I know eventually it will fade, but I'm so close I'd just like to get a glimpse please. If that's not too much to ask.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;India&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel horrible because I'm not happy. Life's great. What's holding me back? It's probably just me...but it feels like something more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3885468100442913810?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3885468100442913810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3885468100442913810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3885468100442913810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3885468100442913810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-dont-belong-here.html' title='I don&apos;t belong here'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-6524026829324438995</id><published>2009-05-07T21:57:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T22:37:30.311-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And if the night runs over</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;and if the day won't last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;and if the way should falter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;along the stony pass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;It's just a moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;this time will pass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;-Stuck in a moment-U2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Today I was angry. Seething almost. I saw something that reminded me so much of how horribly I've felt the past few weeks. Before I had a moment to truly react, I saw my friends walk out on stage, and the feeling I got inside when I saw them was the same feeling I had when I saw Jason Mraz in concert. The feeling I've been searching for. At that moment I had a revelation:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This semester has been hard. Losing Rearcous, Uncle Chester, and Emily all within weeks of each other was enough to break me. This time I broke a little differently though. This time rather than crying tears of saddness...I cried tears of joy. I was so happy because of all of the good things I have in my life. The bad hurts. A lot. And it's hurt for a while, but I realize now that I can't let it hold me down any longer. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;I have one friend that is really not what I thought he would be. I assumed he would be a good friend, but it appears he's decided I'm not worth it and that's ok. I realized today that I have some absolutely amazing friends. I've been blessed to be surrounded by people that make me smile and I have a family that loves me. It doesn't get much better. I was incredibly upset that I didn't get the Disney Internship. I wanted to leave Columbus because I was tired of friends like the ones that have made me feel like well pardon my language, but shit. They've made me feel about as low as I could get and even made me question myself.  And now my one means of escape was ripped from my hands. One night I was so broken and hurt that I prayed desperately to God to relieve me of my pain. I just wanted to get away and I didn't care how that happened. Selfish, but it's the truth. Shortly after this Stephanie decides that she wants to convince me to stay in Columbus. She tries to convince me to get my education degree on top of my Literature degree. I start looking into it and email my housing director and ask her what she thinks I should do. In response she tells me that regardless of what I chose I should not let housing get in the way of my decision. She tells me that I am a valuable asset to the team and they'd love to keep me around. They'd cover my housing, I would just need to work a few hours in the housing offices....Renee tells me the best apartment for me would be the 1 bedroom apartment above fountain city coffee...which would separate me from the residents which is exactly what I wanted. I then discover that the best track for me to take would be to get my Master's degree and even though I was behind on taking the GRE (which is the required test to get into the graduate program) I wouldn't need it. This year the rule changed for education majors. The GRE is no longer required. If that's not God's way of giving me another door. I don't know what is. I'm so thankful for everything he's given me. I could careless at this point about the friends that have left me in the past because if they hadn't left...I wouldn't be where I am right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I'm just trying to find a decent melody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;a song that I can sing in my own company&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-6524026829324438995?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/6524026829324438995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=6524026829324438995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6524026829324438995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6524026829324438995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-if-night-runs-over.html' title='And if the night runs over'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-6015943203831727834</id><published>2009-04-30T22:02:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T01:00:08.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's take it easy and celebrate the malleable reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;because nothing is ever as it seems, this life is but a dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Jason Mraz "Live High"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last weekend, Jono and I went to what I can only describe as the most life changing concert I have ever experienced. We took a 5 hour trek to Nashville, Tennessee just to bask in the beauty that is Jason Mraz (and of course getting to experience the musical genius of Dave Matthews was a plus!) As soon as Jason started to sing (his first song was The Remedy) I felt my heart leap. We were still in line waiting to get inside, but I could recognize those lyrics and that beautiful voice anywhere. It was like we were walking in a dream as we raced through the stadium to find our seats. We sat and just swayed and sang along with him. It was amazing to actually feel his love wash over the thousands of people in that stadium. I was so happy I could cry, and it was at that moment that I felt the first real bit of peace in my life in a long time. I'd been so upset about the turn that my life had taken, but at that moment I was struck with the fact that here I was listening to my favorite singer with one of my best friends in the midst of thousands of other people all united under a common love for music. It doesn't get much better than that. Music, for me, is the greatest form of communication. It is the means through which I interact not only with God, but with humanity as a whole. Every concert I go to seems to change me in some way. After Coldplay I found that I could let small things slide off of my back much easier...after Jason and Dave, I've learned better how, not only to express my love to the world, but also how better to receive it. Lately, I've been struggling with figuring out why certain people find it so easy to replace me or to neglect my friendship. It's kept me up late and it's brought me to tears more times than I'd care to admit. Slowly, but surely though I am coming to accept that the people who truly want you in their lives will make that known. They will be there for you when you need them. They won't view you as an obligation, but as a joy to be around. I was talking to Jono after the concert and I pointed out that the happiness I felt seeing Jason was exactly what I wanted it to feel like when I looked into the faces of the people I loved. I think that we should not only feel that way, but we should also instill that feeling into other people. I want my friends and the guy I fall in love with to be so happy to see me that he doesn't know what to do with himself. I want my friends to never doubt the love I have for them and in return I want to never have to doubt the love they have for me. I've lived too many times with one-sided relationships and I think now I need to let all of that negativity go and just dwell in the love that the world truly has to offer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I had dinner with Stephen Smith and we were talking about similar topics. In the end we came to the conclusion that the people we need to surround ourselves with are the ones that make us happy. I can't waste my time being around people who feel anything less than loved. True love, true friendships don't make you cry for weeks at a time, they don't make you feel neglected and forgotten, they don't view you as an obligation, but as a wonderful part of their lives. Scott was in town for a few days this past week and being around him reminded me of exactly what I wanted from a friend. Someone who takes joy in my joy. Someone who shares my pain, my secrets, and my love. I don't think we should settle for less, and I know it's hard to let go of the "friendships" that are anything less than this, but really, life is too short to be miserable. If someone can't appreciate you while they have you...do they really deserve you at all?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);   font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ultimately love is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);  font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-style: italic; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;just absolutely wrought with disaster and it's worth every moment of it and no matter who you choose or what y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);  font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-style: italic; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ou do you're gonna get both sides of that coin.-Evangeline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);  font-style: normal; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-style: italic; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Lilly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);   font-style: italic;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);   font-style: italic;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SfptYj9iGdI/AAAAAAAAAHE/c1u0n-BSkeY/s320/IMG_0189.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330693377684019666" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-6015943203831727834?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/6015943203831727834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=6015943203831727834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6015943203831727834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6015943203831727834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/lets-take-it-easy-and-celebrate.html' title='Let&apos;s take it easy and celebrate the malleable reality'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SfptYj9iGdI/AAAAAAAAAHE/c1u0n-BSkeY/s72-c/IMG_0189.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3692897323279344286</id><published>2009-04-24T21:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T22:05:44.722-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The space between our wicked lies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;is where we hope to keep safe from pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Dave Matthews Band "The Space Between"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year has been the mirror of my freshmen year of college. I've grown up obviously, but circumstances are similar. I've made some really great friends only to lose a few friends that I thought were great. I've re-evaluated my life about 5o million times. I've tragically lost a friend, I've had a terminally ill relative (I'm praying for him though...maybe this time God won't need to take him away) I've gotten closer to God and my family. It's all so bittersweet. In the long run, these past few years have helped me to deal with loss and disappointment. They've helped to shape me into the person that I am now. I've had so many friends throughout the years that I just thought were ideal. They were exactly what I wanted at the time and then for numerous reasons they broke my heart. Betrayed me, abandoned me. I'm sure I've done things in the past that I'm less than proud of, but I've always tried my hardest to be a good friend. Every year I feel like I have to deal with explaining to myself that certain people aren't good for me to have around. They prove it time and time again, and yet I just can't bring myself to let them go. It's time for a change. If I've learned nothing else in college, I've learned that your truest friends surface when times get hard. When you need them the most they will be there for you and sometimes the people you didn't expect are the ones that are the most comforting. I've also learned that the ones you expect to be there...often aren't. And it really hurts, but those wounds heal. In the end you're stronger because of it. I only have 22 days left in Columbus, and despite the depressing nature of this past week I refuse to be sad. I will spend these last 22 days with the people who love me the most. I will not put too much stock into any one person because life's too short to be sad about one or two flaky friends. I've been blessed to have a few friends that actually care about me and I really don't need any more than that. In my mind, that's what Chris would want me to do. That's what Rearcous would want me to do. That's what Aunt Carla and Uncle TL would want me to do. So it's time that I stopped living my life through people who don't matter and start living it for myself, for Jesus, and for the people who truly make me happy &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get to see Jason Mraz and DMB with my wonderful Jonathan Davis tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Summer gets to graduate!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Let us not love with &lt;/span&gt;words&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; or &lt;/span&gt;tongue&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, but with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;actions&lt;/span&gt; and in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truth&lt;/span&gt;-1 John 3:18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3692897323279344286?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3692897323279344286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3692897323279344286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3692897323279344286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3692897323279344286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/space-between-our-wicked-lies.html' title='The space between our wicked lies'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4754707218736443078</id><published>2009-04-23T20:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T23:10:08.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is gonna be a night to remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Big fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-"A Night to Remember"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;High School Musical 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Stephanie and I are watching HSM 3. I've never seen it before so I figured I'd take a page from Jono's book and give you a play-by-play of what I think of the movie as I watch it! I think it'll be fun! Enjoy the ride friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;0:56-The movie is starting and Zac Efron is sweaty and hot. "Let's Go!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:33-It's impressive that EVERYONE is wearing their school colors. That never happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;2:32-Apparently the dad just quoted the song. I knew it sounded cheesy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;3:00-There's Corbin Bleu. He's pretty too. "It's now or never"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;3:27-Start the song and yup the dad said the lyrics. Stephanie just said "Can we talk about fat cheerleaders?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;4:04-No high school cheer team is that good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;4:40-Backwards dancing and singing. Go Zac *ahem* I mean Troy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;5:09-Zac looks drunk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;5:21- DID VANESSA HUDGENS JUST COME OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF A BUNCH OF SIGNS?! What the hell is going on? I am so confused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;6:26 Troy is chewing his words. And who's the random overly excited kid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;6:48-Well random kid just made the goal. Foreshadowing? Probably.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;7:17- That looks like Bella's truck...but blue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;7:40-Where did the random confetti come from and what the hell kind of high school party has a popcorn machine?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;8:09-Troy is being looked at by coaches, but what I wanna know is how his family can afford all of this and not get a better car for their kid?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;8:49-Random kid was in Troy's room...and took a picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;9:04-There's a major party going on...but Troy and Gabriella are sitting in tree house. A pretty awesome treehouse at that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;10:29-Stephanie's favorite song in the movie is about to start. You can feel it coming on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;10:50-There it is. The first Troy/Gabriella song of the movie. I like it :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;11:12-Stephanie just said "I think she has herpes" I almost lost my mind. This is a good song though. Much better than the last two movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;11:43-So Zac said he wouldn't do anything gay in this movie. He lied. He totally just did this open arm stretch thing..it was very gay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;12:04-Overhead shot. Cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;12:52-Why is Gabriella wearing a curtain? And WHY are they doing an 80's Prom pose at the end of the song?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;13:04-"Troy you have guests!" Duh..it's his party. He left though to spend time with his gf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;14:02-Here comes Sharpay with her pink car...we knew she was coming though because Fabulous was playing as soon as the school was shown. PS NO ONE twirls in the all like that and gets a positive reaction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;14:45-"Hey Troy! When's the big game?" "Yesterday" "Oh. Well Good luck!" HA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;15:24-Who gets 2 lockers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;16:33-I'm kinda tired of this random kid. He definitely just clothes lined Troy though HA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;17:12-Gabriella sent Troy a note with a kiss on it. I only noticed the kiss..I couldn't read the note. I like the drama club room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;18:34-Kelsey signed up everyone for the musical. They're complaining. You know they wanna do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;21:09-JULIARD is coming to East High to watch their show. WTH?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;21:33-Troy has never heard of Juliard. Fail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;22:14-Their making a musical about their lives. And their dreams. How very Disney of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;23:57-"Sharpay's meal please" WTH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;24:16-That song came out of no where! Ryan's still super cute. Steph's right though he's thinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;25:06-Spinning cafeteria tables. Can we talk about that? "My name in lights at Carnegie Hall"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;25:52-So this is a weird dream sequence, but the song is catch. Probably the best Sharpay song of all 3 movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;27:15-I can't handle this song. Is that Britney Spears? No wait it's just Sharpay pretending.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;28:08-Ryan just humped that girl...I thought he's supposed to be gay in this movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;29:01-I didn't know Ryan and Sharpay were twins. Makes sense though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;29:31-Why is Gabriella wearing another curtain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;30:02-I swear she just said "shit" when she saw Troy on the roof...where he is waiting with clothes? Random as hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;30:57-Troy is so pretty. I love that Gabriella looked shocked that he got her tickets..aren't they dating?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;31:31-Troy really took a breath. I love that. I always want people to do what it says in songs :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;32:02-I could have SWORN Troy said he didn't know how to Waltz, but he's spinning her around like a pro. Man he's a fast learner. And he definitely just did the gayest leap of my life. That's twice now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;33:11-"That's a very un-Disney dress"-Stephanie. It's funny I hear singing, but Gabriella's mouth isn't moving...how's that work out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;33:46-Random sun shower...I think they just have to stand in the rain...fail no kiss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;34:47-Troy and Chad stole the random kid and his random friend's clothes and are making them run around the school in just a towel. It'd be better if it was the other way around...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;35:31-Wow Ryan. That move. I cant' say..but your pants are anything but fabulous!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;36:50-Boots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;37:17-Gabriella actually waited for Troy to open the door for her...that's cute I don't think I've ever done that...ever ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;39:15-I love the boy perfectly positioned to catch the ball when Chad's chick hit it out of his hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;40:03-I could have sworn Chad was dating that chick...why is he nervous about asking her? Why is she being a bitch. She knows she wants to go with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;41:10-It's like he just asked her to marry him....why is prom such a big deal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;41:32-Apparently this is the best part of the movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;42:01- A song for prom clothes. I'm amused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;42:14- Gay moment #3 Troy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;42:51-I like Sharpay's heart mirror.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;43:31-What is Gabriella wearing  THIS time? It looks like she rolled into a meadow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;44:09-We've watched this part 5 times now and I'm in love with it. Ryan has the gayest hands . Troy is incredibly hot, but Chad is better at the dance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;45:06-Why can't the girl's wear cute clothes? Maybe it's because it's the play and not the actual prom. that's what I'll say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;45:52-Their theater. is amazing. What high school has one that beautiful. P.S. I don't know if I mentioned this earlier, but Sharpay has a secret attendant. Random as hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;46:30-Random guy...is annoying...and now he's understudy and he said call me Rocket Man...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;47:03-I wouldn't sing with you if I was starving and you were the last pickle at the picnic...what the hell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;47:58-So. Gabriella just got early orientation which means she gets to miss the last 3 weeks of high school to go to college...what college does that? I'm calling the bullshit card on Disney right now. They probably just didn't want her around as long because of her naked pic scandal. I'm just saying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;49:09-Ryan has a moped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;49:28-Random assortment of instruments not in cases, a harp? Tea on a piano...I don't know what's wrong here, but Ryan is cute when he sings with a girl. I don't think he's gay now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;50:28-Mark (who came in to watch with us) just pointed out that Ryan is sight reading...without looking at the lyrics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;50:51- Oh they're painting in the middle of rehearsal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;51:06-Troy just touched the freshly painted fence...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;52:25-Everyone else is incredibly creepy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;53:31-"Hey the boys are back" HA Troy has on a bandana..he looks like Rusty. Plaid shirt, White tee, Jeans, and Converses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;55:37-This song is great. I love the silhouettes and that they are singing about super heroes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;56:26-Is that Herby? Maybe a transformer? that car is moving &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;56:55- Where'd that random girl come from?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;57:09- So like 20 boys just showed up from NOWHERE. It's like Thriller in a junk yard!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;57:44-Oh my gosh. They are so freaking cute! They just turned into children! I can't handle it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;58:28-The ending just failed, BUT I think they're precious. I'd be friends with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;59:26-I really like Gabriella's room. It's super cute (minus the weird purple lamp.) I wish my room looked like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:00:04-Taylor just called Troy Gabriella's crush..and then left her crying. Great friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:00:55-Gabriella's scarf looks just like her mom's shirt. Pretty sure her mom just said smothered her in cheesiness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:01:51-I love how staged their dining room is right now. Everyone is sitting on one side and the moms' are standing behind them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:02:57-I love how their harmonizing when they're no where near each other...I still like this song though. I think I'll get the soundtrack from Fanny later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:04:14-So Troy hits his locker and it opens...he has a huge picture of Gabriella in his locker and Sharpay's a bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:05:19-Sharpay looks like Mrs. Cleaver!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:05:49-Their ringtone is the first song they sang together..."Gay"-Stephanie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:06:54-Troy brought chocolate covered strawberries and pizza. Gabriella wants to be a little crazy and to not do the right thing for once....hmmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:08:15-So Gabriella's dress is cute for the 2nd time in the movie and she looks really sad because Troy just played Spiderman and crawled out of her window. The funny thing is that she was just lounging at home and decided to put on a cute dress...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:09:32-Troy's car wouldn't work so he walked home...Fanny just flipped her shit cause Gabriella has Vera. Troy is beautiful in his white tank top and shorts and what the hell why are pictures disappearing and who the hell took that picture of Troy and Gabriella from HSM2?! No one was around...fail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:10:24-It was night and now it's morning. Stephanie just flipped out over a van! Gabriella is leaving oh no!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:14:03-Troy looks like Charlie right now with his dark hoodie standing in the rain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:14:33-Troy just took off his shirt...yes girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:15:19-There you go Troy...find your light! WHOA where did those CGI basketballs come from?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:16:13-The room jus spun around and he stood on every surface. It was so cool...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:16:51-Dear Zac, I think you're I'm not gonna do anything gay speech failed the moment you sang you're own song. Sorry. Love, India&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:17:57-What high school has giant posters of it's players?...and Please tell me why the teacher is at the school at like 2 AM?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:19:09-I think Troy secretly wants to be an actor. He feels most comfortable on stage. Just ya know going with my gut on that. I'm predicting that he's gonna get into Julliard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:20:11-The school Gabriella is in looks a lot like the Oxford that Desmond went to!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:21:04-Oh No! The set almost fell on them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:23:03-Gabriella just said she wasn't coming back. She hung up on Troy and she's missing her prom and graduation...I don't know what I think about that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:24:39-So Troy drove all the way out to Stanford to stand in a tree and wait for Gabriella outside of a building. How the hell did he know where she would be?! Was he stalking her long distance?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:24:56-"What is it with you and trees?" "I guess I see things more clearly from here." HAHA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:25:11-Not gonna lie. I think this is super sweet. He wanted to have his last dance as a high school with her :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:26:07-I'm so mad that Chad is wearing a JERSEY TUXEDO WITH HIS NAME ON THE BACK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:27:44-"You might be ready to say good bye to East High, but East High isn't ready to say good bye to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:28:48-Random kid gets to go on for Troy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:29:42-Why does it look like they have a professional orchestra?! Isn't this a high school show?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:30:25-I think Ryan and Kelsey are cute and I love that he just did a Rusty wink at her :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:31:21-This never happens in a real high school Their sets are epic and people are standing and cheering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:32:26-I can't handle Ryan. I change my prediction btw Ryan's getting Julliard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:33:44-What kind of high school dressing rooms are these?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:35:00-HA Random kid busts in dressed like a gangster sings and tries to kiss Sharpay and Keeks says "That was James Cash!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:36:33-So now Troy and Gabriella are back and singing..and Zac jus did a gay hair flip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:38:00-So I love that they're having a reunion on stage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:40:53-Kelsey won the Julliard scholarship! I was way off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:41:44-HA I wasn't wrong Ryan did win it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:42:18-Troy is going to Berkeley and he's doing theater and basketball...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:44:41-And they bust into an arousing chorus of "We're All In This Together" and Troy (not Gabriella who was supposedly Valedictorian) is speaking at graduation where they are not sitting in alphabetical order "cause once a Wildcat always a Wildcat"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:46:02-Here comes the final song! (Wait are they in marching band? The entire senior class just formed a wildcat symbol!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:47:09-This last song is called High School Musical and it's Chessy as hell! (It bothers Keeks, Jordan, Fanny, and I that Sharpay is wearing pink and red!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:48:26-This is supposed to be a Disney movie, but I just saw Taylor's panties! (Cute roller coaster dance friends) "High School Musical who says we have to let it go?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:49:32-Random kid is dancing with the senior class in a robe. I thought he was a junior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;1:50:41-The movie ends with the curtain closing and the signature hsm jump ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Final Verdict: It was cute. Of course I liked it. It was incredibly cheesy and I wish my high school was that cool!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Hahaha hope you enjoyed it too friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-4754707218736443078?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4754707218736443078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4754707218736443078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4754707218736443078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4754707218736443078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-gonna-be-night-to-remember.html' title='This is gonna be a night to remember'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3684898236273841463</id><published>2009-04-22T15:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T10:24:51.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only love, only love can leave such a mark</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);   line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-only love, only love can heal such a scar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-U2 "Magnificent"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It's only Wednesday and it feels like the past few days seem to have lasted a lifetime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt;- RA fun day at Six Flags. Fun times! We left at 7 for Chick-Fil-A, went to Main Campus and spent the day hanging out and riding ride. Incredibly draining, but fun nonetheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt;-I talked to my mom. My Uncle Chester is not doing very well. He was diagnosed with Cancer about a year ago, and no form of treatment has worked. They're going to put him in hospice care. This feels like a repeat of my freshmen year of college. I'm praying for him because while the doctors have little hope, God's will prevails. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sunday Nigh&lt;/span&gt;t-Holy shitake mushrooms we've got an actual tornado on our hands. The sirens go off and we think it's just like before. Everyone's already ready in their PJs with snacks and entertainment. It takes little to no effort to get them in the stairwell. I thought we'd be fine. I thought wrong. Harrison, Stephanie, Dureyea, and I were on the 4th floor of BC watching the news in the tv area when I got a phone call from Cory. He was asking how long they had to stay inside when all of a sudden his tone changed. "Oh SHIT I can see the tornado!" I freaked and told the other RAs and as we looked out of the window we could see a huge black object swirling past. We bolted into the stairwell where our residents looked up at us confused. They'd been laughing and joking in the cramped stairwell and the severity of the situation hadn't hit until that moment. We informed them of what was going on outside and we all waited anxiously for the storm to pass. I was in a slight panic. Cory, James, and everyone else down at the theater could potentially be in danger. I didn't know where exactly they were in the theater but if they could see the tornado...well anyway I also didn't know where Rusty was. He hadn't responded to my text, but then a very panicked Stephanie came up to me. "Rusty is outside in the parking garage!" I flipped. Gwen and I bolted outside and told him to come inside. He wasn't being stupid he just couldn't get into the building in time so they ducked in the garage. Talk about terrifying! When the storm passed we assessed the damage (a few broken windows, tossed around A/C units, busted up cars and fallen awning) and called it a night. I don't think it could have gotten more intense. Sleep was virtually impossible so at around 7 when I finally drifted off I silenced my alarm...classes would have to wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt;-In light of the storm, my uncle had completely slipped my mind, but now I needed to do something. I called my Aunt Chancie and I told her that he was in my prayers. I was worried, but I've been through this before. There's nothing I can do now but wait and pray it gets better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;-There are very few people in this world that can genuinely touch the lives of everyone they meet, but Rearcous was one of those people. When Brittain told me what happened I felt my heart stop. I think, however, that everything happens for a reason, and while we don't often want to believe that especially in the light of such a tragedy, I know that Rearcous's life was one that inspired a lot of people and his death now seems to encourage them to love more, to love harder, and to love openly. It's a beautiful gift that he has given us. One that I hope we can share with the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday night&lt;/span&gt;-I cried myself to sleep. I was at peace with Rearcous's death. Spending time with people who loved him made it easier, but I still didn't want to be alone. I ended up that way, and the circumstances made me sad. I felt completely betrayed so I sent up a prayer to be healed of just everything that has weighed upon me lately, and I felt myself drift off to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;When I thought about writing this blog so much went through my mind. I didn't know how to say what I felt. I was hurt and my life is going through a lot of changes. I'm learning everyday the people that will truly be there for me and the ones I can't rely on. I'm growing as a person and becoming much more solid in who I am. In my mind this message came out angry, but I want it to be one of hope and of happiness. Life is not always great. Sometimes you hit rock bottom. Sometimes you feel your heart completely break. Sometimes you can do nothing but cry and pray to God to heal you. But despite it all you'll have to remember that things could always be worse and even though they're at the bottom it's not hard to get to the top. You'll never truly appreciate the good until you've lived in the heart of the bad. There's just too much beauty in this world to focus on the negative for too long. We just need to live, right now, and be happy with what we have. Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I love you Re. Thanks for everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3684898236273841463?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3684898236273841463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3684898236273841463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3684898236273841463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3684898236273841463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/only-love-only-love-can-leave-such-mark.html' title='Only love, only love can leave such a mark'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8985144172959733114</id><published>2009-04-21T08:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T10:16:41.245-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well there's an emptiness inside her</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;and she'd do anything to fill it in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;and though it's red blood bleeding from her now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;it felt like cold blue ice in her heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;-Dave Matthews Band "Grey Street"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl with extraordinary dreams for her life. She imagined all of the wonderful things that she would do when she grew up, and had every confidence that her dreams would come true. Of course this is normal of a little girl not yet exposed to the harshness of reality, but this little girl grew up and realized her dreams actually had the potential of coming true. She lived with Hope, and he would feed her beautiful dreams and help them grow. She worried about little because though occasionally a storm would come and threaten her dreams, Hope was always there to mend them and keep them strong. One morning, however, when she'd actually grown up she took a look back at her life and realized that at some point in her life her dreams had wilted. She'd been so distracted by less important things. She'd let herself become manipulated by a harsh reality, by a broken heart, and by the negativity that often overcomes people. Her dreams had withered and died and she had no way of getting them back. She didn't know what to do and it made her cry. How could she have allowed this to happen? She'd always been determined to not allow herself to be affected by these things. How could reality take her if she lived apart from it?  Well try as she might, she could not resist reality's pull. She was flung into it's harsh grasp leaving her heart completely unprotected. She'd never fallen prey to the clever words of boys before, but now she could not escape them. Her naiveté left her susceptible to anything. The boys would come with their charming smiles and their pretty words and while she tried to be careful, she couldn't resist. They manipulated her with feigned friendship which tragically led to her inevitable heart break. Once her heart was broken, all of the negativity of the world flooded in. She allowed her self to sink deeper and deeper into a sea of depression. Hope saw this and tried his hardest to save her. He would come and offer her a hand out of that sea, and he would walk with her and keep her safe, but she was so lost that she turned away from Hope. Without Hope, her dreams held no meaning. So when she awoke that day to discover that her dreams were gone...she knew it was her fault. She'd allowed herself to fall, and with that fall she'd lost the things she held most dear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;If I took a left instead of a right could I have been somebody different tonight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/3977538014743804836-8985144172959733114?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8985144172959733114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8985144172959733114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8985144172959733114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8985144172959733114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-theres-emptiness-inside-her.html' title='Well there&apos;s an emptiness inside her'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1298574211525837424</id><published>2009-04-16T16:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T01:16:04.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'll just have to accept that my mind is so inept</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;and the only thing that's left for me to do is to trust you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;-Relient K "The Truth"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Advice from mom:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Yesterday I had to deal with explaining to my favorite teacher why I would have to decline the opportunity to speak at the Honor's Colloquium on Saturday (I have an RA commitment), I had a killer cough and I could feel that I would be losing my voice fairly soon..and then the icing on the cake:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;God gives you gifts and you end up using them where He wants you to and that's not always where you choose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I finally got a letter from Disney telling me that while they greatly enjoyed my interview, they would not be accepting me into the internship. I didn't even know what to say (and considering I had to work 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;0 minutes after I got the letter I didn't want to get too upset about it.) My mom called me as I was walking into my apartment, and we talked about it. As upset as I was, talking to her definitely made me feel better. I didn't realize it, but I hadn't actually spoken to my mother in quite some time. She had a lot of really great advice for me and it made my feel a lot better. I still feel like a failure in a way. (I mean I was denied the opportunity to work with a company that I've already been working with for the past 4 years.) but I know that no matter what happens my parents will be behind me. That's very re-assuring. I've always been nervous about jumping into teaching right after college. I'm not especially intimidating and I don't really think high school kids will REALLY respect me, but who knows. I obviously don't so maybe God has a better plan in store for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;People who pick and chose when they want to be there for you aren't real friends. As long as you have one or two people who are truly there for you, that's all you need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  font-style: italic;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've had weird experiences with people lately. I've been relating to them in strange ways and questioning every aspect of my relationships. I'm not sure anymore who's truly genuine and who's not. It's weird because I know with some friends I am easily swayed...something about them keeps me coming back for more if that makes sense...and with others I'm always on my guard. I don't know what to think...I trust them when I'm at my emotional peak and when I'm low I am extremely wary of them. I notice that some friends will never talk to me if I don't initiate the conversation and others I tend to ignore. I think the older you get the more you appreciate what certain types of people bring to a relationship and avoid other types that have proven to hinder or disappoint. Regardless I think that in the coming years I'll come to truly break away from bad relationships and to strengthen the good ones. It just takes time to truly realize which is which.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll put the emphasis on the evidence begging for the proof&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;sometimes the hardest thing to believe is the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-1298574211525837424?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1298574211525837424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1298574211525837424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1298574211525837424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1298574211525837424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-ill-just-have-to-accept-that-my.html' title='And I&apos;ll just have to accept that my mind is so inept'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4926468096192334146</id><published>2009-04-15T01:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T01:34:49.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have run, I have crawled, I have scaled these city walls</title><content type='html'>these city walls, only to be with you&lt;div&gt;-U2 "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today has been a day of ups and downs. I'm incredibly stressed out which is making me kind of sick. I'm super busy, but I got to hang out with Stephanie today and that's always nice. We went to Hibachi with Rusty and Michael Carr and then we went to Movie Stop where we encountered the most awkward situation of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephanie and I are standing by the newly traded section when in walks (dun dun duuuuun) creepy stalker Eric from this summer! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephanie: He looks stoned out of his mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India: (grabbing Stephanie's hand) I have to tell you something about him later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(He walks up to us)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: Uh...hey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India:...hey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: So you moved back from Florida then?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India: Um...yeah! I...uh..need a change...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephanie:................!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: Oh again? Yeah that makes sense. So you still live downtown?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India: Yeah...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: Do you still have that Wall-E?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India:...yeah...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: Well alright you should hit me up sometime we'll hang out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India: (stiffling a giggle) uh yeah ok!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eric: Ok well talk to you later India&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India:...umm bye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephanie:...................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Steph and I then dash for the Disney section and try our best to hold back a laugh! It was hilarious haha so I put down the movies we were looking at and took her outside to explain the whole situation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got back downtown (after telling the story to Harrison and Rob) I go to my room to contemplate working on my bulletin board. Sam came over and we talked about our mutual guy/friend issues. It's always nice to talk to her about those things because she always gives the best advice. She explained to me that I should never feel second-rate by a guy that deserves me or by a friend in general. If he can forget about me then why is he worth my time? I mean some friends have the type of relationship where they can go months without speaking and they're still besties where as others need constant nurture and care or they'll wilt and die. It was funny because just before we'd had that conversation we were finishing up my 3rd floor bulletin board when we ran into James. He needed to use a colored printer so I offered to let him use the office one. He said ok, but when I looked up from gathering up my things to head down to the office I notice he's walking out of the door and heading to CH. Talk about getting shafted! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I'm trying very hard to spend time with the friends who have made an effort to let me know they truly value &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; in their lives who make an effort to care for me as much as I care for them :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. another highlight of my day: Jake left a flower for me on my pillow. It was simple and sweet, but it really made me feel special. Hooray for having nice freshmen on my hall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4926468096192334146?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4926468096192334146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4926468096192334146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4926468096192334146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4926468096192334146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-run-i-have-crawled-i-have-scaled.html' title='I have run, I have crawled, I have scaled these city walls'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2280901474968717707</id><published>2009-04-14T14:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T14:18:07.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'>and everybody says this town is beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;and you'd be so crazy to say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;-Kings of Leon "Tallahina Sky"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so beyond stressed right now. I think it's because slowly, but surely my clock is running out and I have nothing lined up the way it should be. Before I leave in a little over a month I still need to:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Write 3 research papers (American Lit, Chaucer, and HEL)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Find a summer job&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Hang out with people (you know build some final memories and all that jazz)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Pack (UGH)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) Mail off graduation invitations&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) Visit Colby in Valdosta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7) Study for Finals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8) Clean my apartment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9) Take 3 Finals (Spanish, HEL, and American Lit)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10) Freshmen Lock In&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11) Disney Information Table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12) April Bulletin Board (crap that's due tomorrow!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13) Summer's hearing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't seem like a lot but when you're time is limited and you already feel like you have a full schedule...it adds up. I'm just getting so nervous that I'm not going to make it. I'm so afraid of disappointing not only myself, but also my family and right now that's what it looks like I'm headed for. A major disappointment. I don't think I'm going to get this internship. I don't think I'm going to find a summer job. I don't think I'm going to be remembered when I leave, and I don't think that I even know what I want from life anymore to begin with. Colby wants me to move to California with him and that seems completely ideal, but I just don't know if it's possible. I should probably just do it anyway. I don't know. And it makes me sad to watch all of my friendships start to spread away from me. I'm fairly certain it's all in my head, but I'm really beginning to see myself getting replaced by other people and it makes me sad to hear all of my friends make plans for next year and know that I won't be involved. I don't want to stay in Columbus. Obviously that's not for the best. I'm certain I'd go insane here because it's quite clear to me that my time is up. I'm holding onto something I feel comfortable with, but this will be the first time I've taken this jump and not been certain about where I'm going to land. It's definitely one of the worst feelings I've had. I really wish I knew what was next for me. I wish I'd planned better. I wish I'd opened more options. I wish I knew what to do, and I wish I wasn't afraid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SeTTOz0HHsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/3y7zHJadw7M/s320/Icons+007.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324612910839176898" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;but everything's the same this town is pitiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;and I'll be getting out as soon as I can fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2280901474968717707?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2280901474968717707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2280901474968717707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2280901474968717707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2280901474968717707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-everybody-says-this-town-is.html' title='and everybody says this town is beautiful'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SeTTOz0HHsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/3y7zHJadw7M/s72-c/Icons+007.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2720497494252636753</id><published>2009-04-07T19:23:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T20:06:13.678-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You think that he's your charming prince.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've learned he doesn't exist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I've had a pretty alright week so far. Monday I found $6.50 in my laundry, then I got to go on tour with the cast of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It was nice to get out of Columbus and away from my problems. It was nice to see a new place and to experience new people. It was nice to not be worried about stupid things. Even if it was only for a day. I stayed up talking with Sam Hughes, Katie Marlowe, and Heather McConnell until a little after  3AM(even though we had to wake up at 6 for a 7:45 call) and it was beautiful. I've never just sat and talked with any of those girls so it was nice to hear their perspectives on life. It's always an enlightening experience to realize you're not the only one going through something. Sometimes all it takes to turn your life around is a fresh perspective. Those girls taught me so much (and made me feel so much better about my life) in just a few short hours of talking to them. I didn't have to tell them where my head was or what exactly was going on with me all I had to do was listen.It's amazing how honest they are with themselves and the world around them. I wish I could be that way. I've begun to realize that my biggest flaw in life is that I over-think everything. As much as I'd like to think of myself as actively engaging in the world, I think I’m more of an outsider looking in. I think about it. I throw in my two-cents, but I don't let myself get too close for fear of getting hurt. It appears my way hasn't worked so far. I've let a lot of things slip through my fingers because I was so concerned with what other people thought or how other people would react to what I truly felt or what I truly had to say. I need to be more comfortable with myself and my thoughts. In order to have true friends that will really trust me I need to lose all of my inhibitions and let the people that I know deserve to be let in in and the ones that don't deserve it...well I really shouldn't surround myself with them in the first place I suppose. There was a time in my life when the same book I'm reading now was opened for the first time and though I hated the ending (and I'm still living the product of that ending) I learned something very important about life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The only people you need in your life are the ones that prove they need you in theirs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman;  min-height: 16.0pxcolor:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;It's true. I've realized over and over that people who don't want me in their lives will leave me and not have a second thought about it. we're no longer friends and even though it hurt to lose them it would have hurt more to have them be around me unwillingly. I've also learned that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Sometimes it's best to forget what you feel and remember what you deserve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I get caught up in people because I &lt;i&gt;feel&lt;/i&gt; something for them or because I often have an overwhelming desire to take care of people and it keeps me around even when it hurts me to do so. I can't do that anymore. People (in general) don't need me to take care of them...and if they do they'll stick around no matter what and not just use me until something better comes along, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;So here's the things I'd like to accomplish with my life for now:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 36.0px; text-indent: -36.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Be honest. About everything. Even if I'm afraid of the reaction I just want to say exactly what's on my mind about things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 36.0px; text-indent: -36.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Be more decisive. I'm very indecisive about most things and I think that comes from my desire to please the world. If I can bring myself to make more decisions it'd probably help (Rusty'll probably like that one haha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 36.0px; text-indent: -36.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Love harder and truer. I let things get in the way of my love sometimes, but I want to go back to loving people genuinely. It won't be hard &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In the end my life will be better for it. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of feeling like I'm second-best to everything. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough, but then I remember that there was a time in my life when these lyrics were written for me..and I'll hold on to the fact that even though the guy who wrote it was not my knight in the end..his words are still true for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 16.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 18.0px; font: 13.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;i&gt;One Knight. One night. One love. One time you will be loved.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  font-style: italic; white-space: normal; font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:13px;"&gt;-Man Apart "Masquerade" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  font-style: italic;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SdvoLRFDBYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Cdc0OJw6Q2Q/s320/Icons+009.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322102664929150338" /&gt;&lt;/span&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/3977538014743804836-2720497494252636753?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2720497494252636753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2720497494252636753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2720497494252636753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2720497494252636753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-think-that-hes-your-charming-prince.html' title='You think that he&apos;s your charming prince.'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SdvoLRFDBYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Cdc0OJw6Q2Q/s72-c/Icons+009.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2454836000239637214</id><published>2009-04-05T02:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T02:38:18.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>should I just keep chasing pavement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; "&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;even though it leads nowhere?&lt;div&gt;-Adele "Chasing Pavement"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week has pretty much been one of the absolute worse I've had in a really long time. It's been rainy and gross pretty much everyday and I while I use to joke all the time that my emotions controlled the weather...this week it really felt like they did. I've been forgetting to eat and not sleeping. Bad combination. I find myself laying awake at night in bed just thinking, and my thoughts are rarely happy. Slowly things are starting to turn around, but I'm wary now that if I allow myself to re-open this book that it will turn out exactly the way it always has. I hate that I always read the same books...even though I know I'll hate the ending. It's like something inside of me draws me to the bad. I used to think my life was great. It seemed like everything was going perfectly, but now it's all going downhill and I don't know why. I don't want to question God's plan for me, but I really don't want to stay in Columbus OR Camden County because my heart will only break there. I was just talking to Brittain and I'm fairly certain that my biggest issue right now is a fear of being replaced and what sucks is that I've already seen signs of that happening. Slowly but surely places where my name used to fit are being replaced with other names. Time that I used to spend with people has been spent alone while they are away and worst of all one friend that I was confident would never leave almost completely stepped away from my life for nearly a week leaving me broken and sad. I feel like I should be stronger than this, but I've let my strength come from too many other people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good thing I'm going to church in the morning. Maybe I can find a way to re center my life around the one constant that truly won't ever leave me and gives me every reason to smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;42 days &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2454836000239637214?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2454836000239637214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2454836000239637214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2454836000239637214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2454836000239637214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/should-i-just-keep-chasing-pavement.html' title='should I just keep chasing pavement'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4195164817102615579</id><published>2009-04-02T01:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T01:32:57.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark blue, dark blue</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been alone in a crowded room?&lt;div&gt;-Jack's Mannequin "Dark Blue"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As much as I really want to write (because I have a LOT on my mind right now) I don't think I can. I'm so sad and broken right now that I feel like the best thing would be for me to go to bed. I wish this weekend would hurry up and get here because I'm pretty certain that's the only thing keeping me going at this point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just feel so alone...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss Colby...no matter what he always listened to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never felt second rate or forgotten by him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4195164817102615579?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4195164817102615579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4195164817102615579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4195164817102615579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4195164817102615579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/04/dark-blue-dark-blue.html' title='Dark blue, dark blue'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-6923670763932522295</id><published>2009-03-30T00:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T00:41:01.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I had no idea where my head was at</title><content type='html'>but if my heart says I'm sorry can we leave it at that?&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "I So Hate Consequences"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This semester has been stressful, but so has every other semester I've had at school. Life has it's ups and downs and for every door that closes another one is sure to open. In my opinion, I've let people get me down too often. It's going to be hard. It's going to take a LOT of time and mental training on my part, but it's time I start finding happiness in myself rather than in other people. I've realized that the people you never expect to hurt you will. I've learned that the friends that want to stick around will, and I've learned that there is absolutely no point in trying to make someone want to love you. So here I am, taking my heart back for myself, and I know it's going to hurt, and I know it's not going to be fun, but if I don't do this now I don't know how I'm going to survive the rest of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm sorry for being selfish&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for being a bad friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry for letting my pride get in the way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from here on out I'm going to try my hardest to love myself and just be me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and in the process maybe I'll learn to love you more too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-6923670763932522295?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/6923670763932522295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=6923670763932522295' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6923670763932522295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6923670763932522295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-had-no-idea-where-my-head-was-at.html' title='I had no idea where my head was at'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4042881042085803697</id><published>2009-03-27T02:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T03:46:38.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And after all of my alibis desert me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I just wanna get by I don't want nothing to hurt me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Relient K "I So Hate Consequences"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life has been an emotional roller coaster for the past few weeks. I'm starting to find it hard to distinguish the ups from the downs, but I notice more and more that I'm struggling to understand myself and to remain positive about the things that I encounter, but it seems like it gets increasingly harder. I came across this poem today and it made me smile because it's still relevant to my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 11px; "&gt;Whatif&lt;br /&gt;from the book "A Light in the Attic" (1981)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, while I lay thinking here,&lt;br /&gt;some Whatifs crawled inside my ear&lt;br /&gt;and pranced and partied all night long&lt;br /&gt;and sang their same old Whatif song:&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I'm dumb in school?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I get beat up?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif there's poison in my cup?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I start to cry?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I get sick and die?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I flunk that test?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif green hair grows on my chest?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif nobody likes me?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I don't grow talle?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif my head starts getting smaller?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif the fish won't bite?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif the wind tears up my kite?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif they start a war?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif my parents get divorced?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif the bus is late?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I tear my pants?&lt;br /&gt;Whatif I never learn to dance?&lt;br /&gt;Everything seems well, and then&lt;br /&gt;the nighttime Whatifs strike again!&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/3977538014743804836-4042881042085803697?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4042881042085803697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4042881042085803697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4042881042085803697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4042881042085803697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-after-all-of-my-alibis-desert-me.html' title='And after all of my alibis desert me'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7318557416530384481</id><published>2009-03-26T00:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T00:33:20.659-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I need You here I need You now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I need security somehow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "I Need You"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what I want anymore. I've been trying to figure out why I get so sad about things, and I've yet to find an answer. I think I'm just afraid. History repeats itself and my history tells me that change is just around the corner. Normally I relish in that...right now I'm terrified. I just want something in my life that genuinely makes me happy...something consistent. I've put my faith in all of the wrong things, and while I know where that faith should go...what I really need in my life, I can't seem to get there. It's a slow process. I want to cry, but I can't. I spend more time alone because I hate it when people leave me. If they're never around they'll never leave. I'm slowly starting to feel myself phase out, and while I don't like it because I want to cherish my last few days here, I think it might be for the best. It is better for me to slip away quietly than to make a big scene. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is it bad that this hurts more than I thought it would? I thought it would be easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought wrong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/ScsFcEvK4EI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ft-6FpMvrzg/s320/AC41.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317349764907065410" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-7318557416530384481?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7318557416530384481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7318557416530384481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7318557416530384481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7318557416530384481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-need-you-here-i-need-you-now.html' title='I need You here I need You now'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/ScsFcEvK4EI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ft-6FpMvrzg/s72-c/AC41.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5572837540475246129</id><published>2009-03-24T13:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T16:32:35.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, I'll be counting up my demons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Times;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;hoping everything's not lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Coldplay "Everything's Not Lost"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i both love and hate my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that patrick came into my room one night and started telling me his life story. we've been friends ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that this year has not turned out as i expected it to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm graduating in 54 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm leaving some really great friends in columbus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i've made some really awesome friends this year (rusty, lydia, james)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i've lost some as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm coming into my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i know he..whoever the hell he may be..is not into me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i realize when guys aren't into me these days and that i can accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i let him go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that austin is coming back to live with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm worried about next year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i can't say the same thing about everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm going home this summer so i can try to rebuild those friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm going home this summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm attempting to mend broken relationships and that it actually seems to be working out a the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm skeptical about some of the ones I thought would last&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm spending more time with God these days. I've missed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my amazing friends (and my wonderful family) that help me back up when i've hit bottom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i love that i'm trying to find my own person...on my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i love that life is not as bad as it seems and that even when it's at it's lowest...it always finds a way to turn back around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things aren't great right now...but even then my love still outweighs the things i'm not happy with in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 18px;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;That's something worth smiling about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5572837540475246129?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5572837540475246129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5572837540475246129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5572837540475246129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5572837540475246129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/well-ill-be-counting-up-my-demons.html' title='Well, I&apos;ll be counting up my demons'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4899296749103248104</id><published>2009-03-22T10:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T13:16:10.905-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I was thinking, over thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cause there's just too many scenarios to analyze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was wonderful. This week has been so crazy for me, and in the grand scheme of things most of it sucked. My favorite thing about a bad week though is that in the end when you look back weeks, months, even years later to that portion of your week you don't remember it at all. I love the human minds ability to forget (for the most part) the bad that happens to us. We may have slight recollections. I know that I hated heartache, but I can't tell you how it felt to me. I can't tell you what it feels like when I have killer cramps, or that time I stapled my thumb. I can't tell you how it felt to cry for a week straight to walk around in a dazed depression. I can't even tell you what it feels like to lose a friend, and have to deal with that loss alone. I know that these things have happened to me, and they will probably happen to me again in life at one point or another, but I welcome that pain because without it I never appreciate the beauty of sitting with a friend you haven't seen in awhile and catching up. I'd never appreciate the simple beauty of sitting with friends and singing to your favorite songs. There's so much in life we'd ignore and the most beautiful of these things to me is when we start to become more in touch with our own inner workings. Yesterday as I was ridding back from Atlanta this song came on and (as is normal with a senior Lit major) I instantly knew it was the song I'd been looking for to breakdown the stupidity of my guy issues and the things in life that I focus on that are clearly. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not worth it&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;look in my eyes cause you're my dream please come true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so often with the guys that I like I think they're perfect. I hear people all the time say you know you're in love when you can look past someone's flaws and see the person underneath. I need to start ignoring that because with pretty much all of my friends (and some people I just kinda know) I look past their flaws because I am in love with them. Just not in that romantic way. I know that I love differently from other people so I will fall in love differently as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was thinking, over thinking about how I'm not exactly him. I'll break my heart in two much worse than you could ever do cause you're my dream please come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My biggest problem is that I get so invested in guys (or lets be honest..friends because they can break your heart too) who are mediocre to what I could have (or already have in the case of my friends) In the end, by letting myself get so worked up over the little things, the nothing. I break my own heart. I blame them, but I knew all along. I get jealous of the other girl (or people) who occupy your time. I can't understand why it's not me. I question myself (am I too fat, too thin, too dumb, too boring, too fickle, not artsy enough, too artsy) to the point of wearing myself down to nothing. Making it the perfect time for you to swoop in confirm my fears and "break" my heart...how can I blame anyone for that when it was me that made  it so breakable?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cause I think way too much on a one track mind, and you're so out of touch cause I'm so far behind. I can't deny this anymore the facts ignored all done before. And if there's one in this world you'll let me know you're not that girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It always seems to play out with the exact same situation. I always deal with things the exact same way. I get so caught up in a person (because you're cool, because you listen to me, because you make me laugh, because you're cute..etc) and then I find myself confused about where our relationship is...and sometimes it's not all my fault, but I get caught up in something that is bad for me...but if I noticed the facts that are right in front of me I could avoid all of this (you always leave me, you clearly aren't into me, you abandon me for other people, you're mean to me, you find stupid reasons to get mad at me). So in the end, by you're actions, you show me that you clearly are not the right friend (or boyfriend) for me. I shouldn't invest my time, but their is someone out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was thinking, over thinking cause I lost the things I held onto. They let me think a thought a thought that I would know is not of seeing me and my dream come true. I was thinking, over thinking about how I could let you know there's nothing left to say I know now you're just in the way of me and my dream come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is where things solidified for me. I knew it in that last moment that what really sucks about each of these people that preoccupy my time that I'm really just messing up my life in it's bigger picture I'll see that by wasting my time with you, by not paying attention to how much you're ruining my mind I'm making myself worse for whomever I do end up with in the end (or for my future friends or the currently awesome ones I have) I'm damaged goods (of course we all are, but I keep getting bruised in the exact same place.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't touch the positive with the negative end cause after all of the sparks you're still alone in the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the end I feel sorry for you though, because despite my stupidity. You knew what you were doing all along. You knew that you were ripping at my heart, breaking my trust in people, and standing in the way of finding people who truly care about me, but you don't generally care. You don't want to lose me, and I'll never figure out why that is, but in the end I've come to see the truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And while I'm able I think I'll label experience with you as a mistake. And while I'm at it I'll say I've added experience with you as a mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should be smart enough to not let the same things happen over and over again, and I know that chances are I'll fall down this same inevitable track again, but hopefully next time I'll finally realize what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cause I think way too much on a one track mind, and you're so out of touch cause I'm so far behind. I'm trying to make sense out of all of this while your fading scent just slips through my grip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "Over thinking (Acoustic)"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4899296749103248104?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4899296749103248104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4899296749103248104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4899296749103248104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4899296749103248104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-was-thinking-over-thinking.html' title='I was thinking, over thinking'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1699064701708318364</id><published>2009-03-20T06:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T06:51:40.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can say...</title><content type='html'>to bring us back to where we were when life was not this hard. &lt;div&gt;- Yellowcard "Miles Apart"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been a strange week. It could be that I'm graduating soon...or that I'm confused about my future, but it just seems like things are being called to my attention now that I've never noticed...never had to deal with before. It's really hard to accept some of it. So much of what I've thought was essentially me has been called into question. I used to think that I was a good friend...now I think I'm incredibly selfish when it comes to relationships. What's hard to accept about that is I can actually see how things in my life changed and I hear myself formulating excuses for my actions when really it boils down to selfishness. I value relationships of convenience. Who doesn't? I used to put all of my importance on the friendships that lasted...they all fell apart. Now I seem to put it all on the ones that are nearby. The ones that give me that momentary high of feeling wanted...feeling special. Funny thing. I've also come to realize that most of those relationships are a hoax. Completely unhealthy. I think that in a good friendship you offer support to one another, advice, anything. You don't make them cry you bring happiness to their lives. I find it strange that every single one of the relationships that I have considered the most "meaningful" in the past few years have almost all kept me up in tears at least once. How pitiful is that? The other thing I've realized is that I have this deep desire (especially lately) to feel...I don't know what the perfect word is here...wanted?...desired?...basically it's just bothered me the more I think about it how all of these guys have previously used me as their make out buddy or their best friend...but none of them are emotionally invested enough (or physically attracted enough) to want anything more from me than that. Funniest thing is that I've noticed it the most with this guy that I am pretty much not into. For some reason I really just want him to want me. I know in my heart that I could never date him. We'd just never work, but it makes me feel so sad when I hear him talk about other girls and how he wants to date them...I just don't know why that can't be me? I've heard the  "well we're just such good friends" excuse, but I know for a fact that that excuse is complete bullshit. Men aren't afraid of ruining relationships. If he thinks we're such good friends...and he also likes me as more than that...then he'll WANT to take our relationship further and nothing will stop him, by pulling that stupid excuse out of the air it's just his way of saying he really doesn't like me, but he doesn't want to lose what he's got going with me, and so he's telling me what I want to hear. In a perfect world, I'd say screw that and walk away, but for some reason...right now I need him in my life for comfort or whatever the hell my twisted mind craves from people. When I graduate...when I leave maybe all of this will be easier, but until then. I hate these two major things about my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To end on a happy note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really excited cause I get to see Jono this weekend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-1699064701708318364?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1699064701708318364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1699064701708318364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1699064701708318364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1699064701708318364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/nothing-i-can-do-about-it-nothing-i-can.html' title='Nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can say...'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-160957578166967051</id><published>2009-03-15T12:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T13:01:01.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh What a day is today. Nothing can stand in my way</title><content type='html'>Now that you've shipped out from under my skin, I think I'm ready to win.&lt;div&gt;-Ingrid Michaelson "Oh What A Day"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring Break was wonderful for many reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Disney with the boys&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Girl's...weekend (cause it was definitely more than a night ha)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Graduation is a week closer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. He's Just Not That Into You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's funny that I find the 4 reason enough for me to find this break wonderful, but after seeing that movie (twice!) and buying the book and actually talking about it with girls...I've begun to realize so much about my love life. It's funny because I complain about my past relationships often (What girl doesn't? They're in the past for a reason right?) The problem is that after reading a few chapters of He's Just Not Into You the blatantly obvious has become disgustingly clear. I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; what it looks like when someone is into me. I've had it happen. Only once really, but once is enough. My ex would call me everyday just to say hi...and not just everyday, but as often as he could! Whenever he had a break from school/work/the band...heck even when he was in the midst of these things he would call me just to say he'd call me later or text me to say hi. He'd talk to me for hours (granted he's a talker and even though we're very much &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just friends&lt;/span&gt; now he'll still talk to me for hours if I call him because he's a good friend) He would drive 5 hours with only the purpose of seeing me...even it it was just for an hour (though I could always convince him to spend the night and leave in the morning) He wanted to be with me so even though my attentions were directed to another man (every girl's an idiot at some time or another) he pursued me with every fiber of his being until I finally realized how great he was. Now, we're not together now because we realized that our friendship was better and he's happily dating another girl. He learned from our mistakes and I've finally learned from my own. Had I been smart I would have let the guy who clearly wasn't into me go and allowed Phillip to be the guy who clearly was into me. So it goes. After a guy like him you'd think I'd have raised my standards. If a guy wants me he'll call me, he'll let me know he cares, he'll show me...rather than tell me that he's worth my time. Guys don't want a girl that's going to chase them. That's hard for us to accept but damn it I know it's true. I see it everyday. I see us chasing guys and them reluctantly giving in and then being miserable because he doesn't commit but I also see us being chased and having a wonderful relationship because of it. I just feel so much better about relationships now. I can live in a delusional world and pretend that these guys that want "whatever" from me will end up liking me eventually...will end up seeing that I'm "perfect" for them, but let's be honest. I might be "perfect" for them but they are far from perfect for me. The perfect guy for me will prove it. The end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this break has been wonderful for many reasons, and because of each of them I am more than ready to graduate. The real world awaits me just around the river bend and I think I can face it head first now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-160957578166967051?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/160957578166967051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=160957578166967051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/160957578166967051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/160957578166967051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-what-day-is-today-nothing-can-stand.html' title='Oh What a day is today. Nothing can stand in my way'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5132010706651374454</id><published>2009-03-14T04:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T04:48:03.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All the bullshit you feed me: You miss me. You need me.</title><content type='html'>This hungry heart will not subside.&lt;div&gt;-Sara Bareilles "Come Round Soon"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was talking to Sam today and I realized.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty pitiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a smart girl. You'd think eventually I'd learn, but it's becoming increasingly clear to me that I probably never will. I obviously know that I'm doing idiotic things, but I do them anyway and just deal with the regret later. Completely stupid. What frustrates me the most is that while I was at Disney and I though about Danielle and her fiancee and I saw all of these happy couples and I listened to the boys talk about all of these hot girls I realized something. For some reason...in every "relationship" I've had with a boy (except for one and that's probably why I've held onto it for so long) I've always just been..."whatever" as I'll call it. I think that's the best name for it anyway. I'm whatever they want me to be. Whatever they want to do, but not what I really want. I hate that I'm good enough for &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;whatever&lt;/span&gt; but I'm not good enough for a relationship...I'm not good enough for something more. I've seen &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He's Just Not That Into You&lt;/span&gt; twice and it hits me harder and harder each time: If a guy is interested in you he'll let you know. Well guess what...that's only happened to me once, and I guess that is better than some can say, but in the end he decided I was better as whatever too and I think what sucks the most is that he was my BEST friend...and now we're not even that. I just feel like I fail at so much when it comes to boys. I saw a guy tonight that I thought was cute...and apparently he thought I was cute too so I go out of my way to go see him and he hangs all over this slightly unfortunate looking chick and it makes me feel WORSE about myself...and then I come home to watch a movie and I end up getting ditched...I mean I should expect it now right. This. IS. the story of my life, right? Same plot, different characters. So it goes. I don't know what it is that I do to make it this way, but it never fails and I don't want to have some pity party where people tell me that it's not true because I can see for myself that it is. I want to happy again too like Sam said, but I don't know how to get there with all of this hanging over me. I don't want to need other people to make me happy, but when you feel like everywhere you turn people are pushing you aside for something it starts to weigh on you. Slowly, but surely. I really think this summer could be good for me, because I can use that time to get used to being on my own. Away from my dependency on people. It's sad because I realize now that THAT is what makes me happy...being around people...making them happy, but at what cost. It's tearing me up inside. I feel like I've become this bitter shell of what I once was. Rusty scoffed at the idea of me being the romantic...but there was a time....ugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5132010706651374454?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5132010706651374454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5132010706651374454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5132010706651374454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5132010706651374454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-bullshit-you-feed-me-you-miss-me.html' title='All the bullshit you feed me: You miss me. You need me.'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-6815625706021132836</id><published>2009-03-01T23:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T00:01:17.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that my broken bones all have been healed</title><content type='html'>I think I'm ready to feel something good.&lt;br /&gt;-Ingrid Michaelson "Oh, What A Day"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brittain and I were talking the other day and I came to a conclusion. I don't know why I didn't think of this before. It's always bothered me when people say that I have a "type" I don't like to think that I narrow myself in that way, but alas, we all do. It's not so much the type that other people have said though (Tall skinny boys with dark curly hair...cute but I've never dated anyone that really fits that description haha) Gwen kinda had me pegged when she said that I dig dudes with guitars, rocker guys or nerds. That's me, but it's more than that. I realized that the kind of guy I'm attracted to is a Sawyer type. One who may come off to the rest of the world as a douche bag, but when he loves he loves hard. He's not the type that will ever sugar coat things around me. He's not afraid to hurt my feelings (and in a world where EVERYONE seems afraid of hurting me that's a major plus) but at the same time he won't do things maliciously to hurt me. He tells me how things are straight up. Jack's cool, but I couldn't go for a guy like him. He's the fixer. He tells me what I want to hear in order to make me happy. That's his driving force. He wants to fix everything by making the world happier, but that's not how it works. I know it's weird, why would I shy away from the guy that just wants to make me happy, right? I can't help it, I've learned that in the long run THAT guy is the one who'll end up hurting you the most. He's afraid to be completely honest with you. You'll have to question his hidden motives and I'm not about that. Sawyer's the kind of guy that I know what I see is what I get, and if it's over he's not afraid to tell me that. Rather than stringing me along he'll break it to me gently and a clean cut heals faster than a messy rip through your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-6815625706021132836?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/6815625706021132836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=6815625706021132836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6815625706021132836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/6815625706021132836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/03/now-that-my-broken-bones-all-have-been.html' title='Now that my broken bones all have been healed'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7903043681647446438</id><published>2009-02-28T17:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T17:20:09.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You said I know that this will hurt</title><content type='html'>but if I don't break your heart thing will just get worse.&lt;br /&gt;-Relient K "Let it all Out"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, I've come to yet another revelation in my life via other people's lives. Lately I feel as though people have been breaking up all around me. It makes me sad, and last night as I was in a friends room offering her comfort (though I didn't have a voice so it was primarily through music) I realized something about my life. Often after a break up, we feel so broken and alone that we don't know what to do. We're confused and feel abandoned, but as time passes we begin to realize why things happened the way they did and in the end the despite our constant belief that we could do something to make things "better" the reason we aren't with that person anymore can boil down to the simple fact that we weren't MEANT to be with them. We were meant for so much more and we would miss what's waiting for us if we focused all of our time and energy on someone that wasn't worth it. I think that sometimes God breaks our hearts in order to make them stronger. He doesn't want us to hurt, but he knows that if we don't get out of the situation we're in, we'll hurt even worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second revelation:&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a friend about how fairly common it is that girls are just not attracted to the "nice" guy. I think I've finally figured out why that is. I mean yeah we say it's because we like a bit of an edge and we crave that mystery in a guy, but when it boils down to it there was a time in my life where I liked nice guys. I could have dated one and been perfectly content, but one day a nice guy came along and stabbed me in the heart. What's funny is I wasn't initally interested in that guy. He was nice though and it appealed to my innocent nature. I wanted a nice guy and he seemed perfect. Don't get me wrong to this day I still see that guy as one of the nicest guys I know, but through his actions while we were together (for like a week...maybe!) he ended up completely ruining my impression of nice guys, and I've realized that ever since then I've not wanted a guy that was too nice. I stay away from them because I associate them with him. It's like Chaucer says, "If gold should rust what should iron do." I feel as though if I corrupt the nice guy he'll continue to corrupt innocent girls like I used to be, so I stay away from them. To me they are completely undesirable now. It's a shame though because I think most girls have been shafted by that guy at one point or another and now most of us don't want that at all. Poor nice guy. He's left all alone wondering what he's done wrong when in actuality it wasn't him at all. It was us and our broken mentalities that allow us to let him go, and it's not our fault either. We can't help the pain that's been inflicted on us in the past. It feels like a never ending cycle, but so it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Lost is my current reason for being. It's SO GOOD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7903043681647446438?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7903043681647446438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7903043681647446438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7903043681647446438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7903043681647446438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-said-i-know-that-this-will-hurt.html' title='You said I know that this will hurt'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8614434436561467231</id><published>2009-02-25T00:19:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T01:00:35.388-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I got the call today I didn't want to hear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;but I knew that it would come&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-India.Arie "Heart of the Matter"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate February. There's so much good going on in my life. I won't forget that, and despite the title of this blog, I promise not to make it depressing. I've been determined to make my life happier and I've been doing fairly well. I have the occasional downward spiral, but it always gets better. I want to continue spiraling upwards, but I know I'll hit the occasional bump and SURPRISE here it is haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that no matter how hard I try February will always try to find a way to remind me of how horrible it is. I got a call today from my mom and it really put my life into perspective. Not completely of course. There's still hope. I'll keep praying. I refuse to resign myself to the worse just yet, but now is probably the worse time to hear it, and I think what makes it harder is that there was only one person I wanted to talk to about it. and he didn't call me back. I know I have other friends. I have other people that I can call when I'm low, but for some reason he was the one I wanted. No one else would do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a happier note. I got to spend time with Patrick today. It was nice because though our topic wasn't the happiest, it felt like old times again. I enjoyed just hanging out and talking to him about his life, about Jesus, and about where we were headed. It's scary to think that in less than 3 months I'll be completely done with my undergraduate degree!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another happy note is that I also got to talk to Laura tonight. It wasn't for long, but it was still nice to connect with an old friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that I'm finally ready to leave Columbus. I've been holding onto things that aren't real, and I notice that more and more everyday. In Columbus, try as I might, I really don't feel like I fit. I've said it before, and it didn't seem like it made sense I mean look around. I have amazing friends here. I have a job, and I have people that look up to me and come to me for advice, but the problem is...as nice as all of that is. None of it is really mine. I feel like I'm constantly coasting on someone else's skirt tails and now I need to break free and find my own. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As much as I've heard that people won't forget me when I'm gone...I still see the starting signs of change, and I'm ok with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It hurts a little, but it's inevitable right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For every door that shuts. for every relationship that ends. Something new...sometimes something better opens up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm curious to see what's around my corner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As cryptic as I like to sound. I needed to add that I've realized that as much as I try to fight it there are things in my life that I can not control and the best way for me to deal with them...is to leave them. I've lost all trust in certain people and it hurts worse when you realize that they don't care. I don't know what it is about me that makes me so easy to lie to or to hurt, but it happens far too often here and while I know in the long run these things happen in life I just feel as though they'll happen less away  87 days till I graduate! &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8614434436561467231?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8614434436561467231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8614434436561467231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8614434436561467231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8614434436561467231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-got-call-today-i-didnt-want-to-hear.html' title='I got the call today I didn&apos;t want to hear'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-533173309259252665</id><published>2009-02-10T22:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T10:38:06.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gravity, release me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And don't ever hold me down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now my feet won't touch the grounds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coldplay "Life in Technicolor ii"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The past few days have been wonderful :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I re-united with an old friend, and it was wonderful we just sat and talked for about an hour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It felt like old times and that made me happy. I really missed him in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm coming to better terms with myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was a guy that I thought I liked and I've realized that really it was just the idea of him that I was attracted to. There's so much about him that just would never fit with me and I've known that, but I chose to ignore it because he was so sweet and he seemed like he was interested in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He wasn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think he just liked the idea of me too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm also proud of myself for setting a goal and actually attaining it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told Gwen that I would make a certain guy a number...and before the end of the night I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted it was a drunken goal...but hey I still did what I said I would do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to seem like a whore....he seemed like he was actually a nice guy, and like most of the guys I've made out with (minus Rebound) there's something about him that attracts me so I could actually date him. I just chose not to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, Life is wonderful right now and I know it will stay that way for quite a few reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I have some of the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I have the most wonderful family that is incredibly supportive and loving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Lost comes on every Wed. providing me something more than free dinner to love about Wednesday nights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Jonathan and I are going to see Jason Mraz and DMB in concert in Tennessee in April.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A roadtrip with Jono+Jason Mraz+Dave Matthews=AMAZING&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Spring break is coming up and I'm taking the boys home with me :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I just had the greatest conversation with Lindsay Hand randomly on facebook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lalalalalalaa life is wonderful &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-533173309259252665?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/533173309259252665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=533173309259252665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/533173309259252665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/533173309259252665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/02/gravity-release-me.html' title='Gravity, release me'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5432509543900616083</id><published>2009-02-08T21:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T14:53:17.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is love alive?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles "Winter Song"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Normally, during the month of February (and occasionally the surrounding months) I find myself completely overwhelmed by sadness. It breaks my heart because I don’t like to be sad. There was a time in my life when I was completely happy, and I don’t know exactly when things changed, but I hate it. I want to be happy again so I’ve made a deal with myself. From this point on I’m going to do everything that I can to be happy. I think that in order to start this I need to get some things off of my chest. Jason Mraz wrote a blog about cleansing your body, and while he wasn’t necessarily talking about this kind of cleansing it still inspired me to do my best to rid myself of all of my negative thoughts. So my idea was to write down everything I need to say to people in my attempt to forgive them. They needn't read it or even know it’s about them. I just need this closure to say how I feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;1. I love you. I always have. I probably always will. You hurt me more than I can say, but at least you didn’t leave. You ignored my broken pieces, but you mended another part of me and I never want to let you go. I doubt you’ll ever love me again, and I question whether you ever truly did in that way, but I’m grateful for your friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I think you’re a wonderful friend. It always upsets me when you discard me though. I can’t understand why you don’t like me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt; 2. You tell me how great I am all the time, but you keep going to all of these other girls and forgetting that I’m here. I don’t want you to pretend, but I do wish I knew what it was about me that you don’t like. I should hate you for what you did because you lied to me knowingly and betrayed the trust I have for you. I feel like were you any other person I would just forget about you as you apparently forgot about me, but for some reason I can’t shake you. And as much as I say I want to...I don’t think I really do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;3. As much as I care about you, I find you to be very selfish. There are times when I know you care, but a good portion of the time I don’t think that I can talk to you without you making it about you or undermining how I feel. It’s not always about you, and I do genuinely have problems in my life that I can not control and that are worth noticing. It also upsets me immensely that you would do what you did to hurt me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;4. Our relationship is weird for me. I know you love me, but sometimes I feel like you use me just to get what you want. I’ve noticed that you often forget me and I’m ok with that to an extent, but when I go out of my way to make you happy sometimes, and you always seem to ignore me at times (especially important times like birthdays) it hurts a bit. Regardless, I know that we’ll always be friends and that I’ll always love you, it just hurts when you forget about me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;5.You are incredibly annoying and I find you to be very selfish. As much as I appreciate you as a person, I find myself frustrated when you’re in a room with me for extended amounts of time simply because I know you’ll complain about something and I’d rather you didn’t.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I’m sure there are more, but since I could not think of it right away, I’ll just say it clearly isn’t THAT important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Love overpowers hate, and for that reason I’m going to try from this moment on to write mainly about the positive things in my life. Negative things happen, and I don’t think they should be ignored, but it’s best to find the positive in everything you do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;And that’s what I’d like to do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5432509543900616083?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5432509543900616083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5432509543900616083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5432509543900616083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5432509543900616083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/02/is-love-alive.html' title='Is love alive?'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5239366793544602173</id><published>2009-02-03T01:50:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T14:24:06.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'>moments of happiness elude</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maybe I just misunderstood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Muse "Falling Away With You"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Boy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sad today. It's not all your fault this time though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most of it's mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or at least my brain's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a little tempremental at the moment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sorry if I take it out on you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The problem is more and more I'm becoming increasingly jealous of the things you do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'll call me just to vent about other girls,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or you'll ignore me when I tell you that one's not good for you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or you'll forget I exist the moment someone prettier walks into the room,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or you'll just ignore me entirely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It drives me insane :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have had some really great moments lately though&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've called me just to say hi and wish me a good day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've spent the night with me and kept me from crying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've held my hand and kissed it to make me smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See told you it wasn't all bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wanted to tell you again what's going on in my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may not fully understand it, but at least now it's written out for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-5239366793544602173?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5239366793544602173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5239366793544602173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5239366793544602173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5239366793544602173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/02/after-all-were-only-human.html' title='moments of happiness elude'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4671265282084841548</id><published>2009-01-29T02:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T02:37:01.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Even if the words are probably gonna hurt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd rather hear the truth than something insincere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Relient K "Come Right Out and Say It"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being lied to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being deceived.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being told one thing and then hearing you do something else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being forgotten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being left out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate the feeling of "hate"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but so it goes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;story of my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This city's made us crazy and we MUST GET OUT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Maroon 5  "Must Get Out"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4671265282084841548?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4671265282084841548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4671265282084841548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4671265282084841548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4671265282084841548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/even-if-words-are-probably-gonna-hurt.html' title='Even if the words are probably gonna hurt'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5095840648724087828</id><published>2009-01-26T00:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T00:42:44.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I talk to absolutely no one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;couldn't keep to myself enough and...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Relient K "Who I am hates who I've been"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to leave this crazy mixed up town...I feel those tale tell symptoms coming on stronger and stronger daily and I'm losing the will to fight them. I feel my happiness slowly ebb out of me. I feel my spirit breaking. I feel my heart longing for something more. something to hold onto. I feel like I'm losing a major part of myself and I don't know if I can get it back. I don't know if I like this person I've turned into. I use to love being around people and now I find myself getting more and more cynical to the point where I rarely want to be around anyone. I use to make people smile and now I feel like being around them will only upset them. I feel like I'm falling apart and I don't know if that's simply because February is so close or if  it's something more....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a break&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a change&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need....something&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...the things bottled inside have finally begun to create so much pressure I might soon blow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5095840648724087828?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5095840648724087828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5095840648724087828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5095840648724087828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5095840648724087828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-talk-to-absolutely-no-one.html' title='I talk to absolutely no one'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2803215461019720246</id><published>2009-01-20T02:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T02:49:33.452-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No one told me the right way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;the right way to go about this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;so I'll figure it out for myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;-Relient K "Give Until There's Nothing Left to Give"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Consider this simply an expanded version of a previous note:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;April 19, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;"We accept the love we think we deserve."-The Perks of Being a Wallflower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been wondering exactly what this quote meant to me and I think I've finally come to a revelation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he's fallen out of love with you and you don't know why, or maybe she's obviously still in love with you, but her affections are being shown to another man. Maybe he's too blind to see how perfect you really are for him, or maybe she lets what other people think keep her from being with you, maybe he's too afraid to love you…it doesn't matter. The point is if we accept the love we think we deserve then what does that say about what we think we deserve? And what does that say about these people that have a hold on our hearts? It's been tearing me up inside lately, and I've just been puzzled about what I should do. The thing is I know that the love I deserve, the love we all deserve, is a love where we are loved in return. Obviously we all see something amazing in that other person; something worth fighting for, something that's kept us around for this long, something that makes it hard for us to let go. But in the long run, by holding on so ardently and by hoping, wishing, praying that he'll come around. That he'll realize how well you work together; how perfect things could be we're losing sight of what we deserve and focusing only on what we feel. We're giving up. I saw another quote somewhere that said, "Sometimes its best to forget what you feel and remember what you deserve." When you get so caught up in that "perfect" person, you miss the opportunity to find the person who really is perfect for you. If these people that we have given our hearts to don't appreciate it…do they really deserve us? Or maybe it's just that we're so comfortable with them that we're afraid to let go and see what could really be waiting for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eventually one of two things will happen: he'll realize you're worth it or you'll finally realize he isn't."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;After I initially wrote this note, I felt so much better about my relationship with my ex and with my relationship with myself as well. I think the most important love we can find is the love of ourselves. I forget all the time to love myself. It's so much easier to put yourself down. I let my insecurities get the best of me. I never feel like I win in life. I'm never pretty enough. I'm too fat, too clumsy, too short, too tall. There's always something wrong, but I was made to be exactly the way that I am, and while I may not always like that person I can never expect anyone else to truly love me if I can not love myself in return. So while I encourage you, me, all of us to pursue only a love that loves us in return, I also encourage us all to love ourselves, truly, completely, and with all of our hearts because without that we can never hope to find a real love from anyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;and so that journey begins....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2803215461019720246?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2803215461019720246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2803215461019720246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2803215461019720246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2803215461019720246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-one-told-me-right-way.html' title='No one told me the right way'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8666005880247115755</id><published>2009-01-15T02:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T02:26:01.369-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep it locked up inside</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; "&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;...don't talk about it. Talk about the weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;-Dave Matthews Band "So Much to Say"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have amazing friends. I feel as though anyone who is willing to sit you down to tell you that they've noticed a change in you is worth having. It's weird for me though. I'm really bad at talking about myself so I feel horrible because if someone cares enough to ask me what's wrong then I want to be able to open up to them in return. To show them how much they truly mean to me, but I just can't do it. I can never seem to find the words to express why I'm upset or why I'm acting differently. I try to just blame it on my need for change, but I deep inside I feel like it's something more. Something inside that's making me sad, and I don't want it to be that way. I want to be happier...I just don't know what to do or say. When I put it that way I think a part of what's bothering me today (and I really regret not being able to verbalize this earlier) is I have a problem with losing friends. I feel like it happens often (probably due to my inability to talk to them...hmm) but when you realize that you've lost someone so dear to you, and you don't know what you did to make it that way....it hurts...a lot. I feel like a crappy friend because I know I can say it's them, but it can't always be them ya know. Sometimes it's me. Normally it's me. I just can't see what it is that I'm doing wrong ya know. Ugh. I know I'm over Columbus, but when I look back at this last year here, I do see  a few things that will make it hard for me to leave. Two of which inspired me to write (though I clearly should be sleeping) and the others have left me, but I know I'll see them/talk to them again soon. I have great friends and I don't deserve them in the least. I want to be better....and so I will be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8666005880247115755?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8666005880247115755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8666005880247115755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8666005880247115755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8666005880247115755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/keep-it-locked-up-inside.html' title='Keep it locked up inside'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-987828024120701559</id><published>2009-01-06T02:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T10:26:18.034-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now we've all grown up, gone on, and moved away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Nothing I can do about it, nothing I can say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;To bring us back to where we were when life was not this hard &lt;br /&gt;Looking back it all just seems so far, so far away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be miles apart&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you deep inside&lt;br /&gt;You're always in my heart&lt;br /&gt;A new life to start&lt;br /&gt;I may be leaving but you're always in my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;-Yellowcard "Miles Apart"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I've always found friendship to be especially intriguing. When you were in elementary school it was not uncommon for you to be best friends with someone one minute, hate them the next, and then be best friends again because you realize your moms had given you both chocolate chip cookies with your lunch. As we grow older we always assume this childish behavior leaves us and while yes, we're clearly more guarded emotionally...simple things like similar names, similar interests, and mutual friends force us to want to get to know other people and small things also tear us apart. I've always been surprised to look back and see how much my friendships have changed through out the years. I sometimes think of myself as a flaky friend because as time progresses I realize I lose more and more friends every year. One day I may have none left, and that's a depressing thought, but I know that I enjoy every moment and cherish every memory I create with my friends. Today I was reminiscing with Brittain on our mutual high school days and I found myself to be completely devastated by the changes in my friendships since then. I know it's rare that you remain friends with your best friends from high school...but there's no reason, in my mind, for us to not be friends...one friendship in particular completely breaks my heart because I didn't realize that we weren't friends until one day I went to leave him a comment on his facebook only to discover that we were no longer even friends....at some point he'd deleted me and I think my heart actually broke a little bit when I saw that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think everyone has had a life changing event happen in their life. One that from that point, try as you might, you can never view things the same again...well my biggest life changing event happened when I was a freshman in college...it's not something I typically like to discuss because I feel as though there are some moments in your life that are meant to help you grow and change, but that it's not best to reflect to heavily upon...I also hate discussing it because I've always discovered that when you reveal your deepest pains to the world it seems to view you differently. So though this is my personal blog, I think I'll let the actual story stay buried in my memory and simply recall the people that have literally kept me alive by simply being around and keeping my head a float when I fell deeper than I thought I possibly could in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that's what hurts the most....knowing that he saved my life...not alone he did have help, but I relied on him the heaviest because he was my best friend and yet I can not find the time to call him everyday to keep our friendship strong. I blame myself for the break in our friendship because while there were plenty of things that he did wrong in the past...he always came back to me eventually. He always did his best to keep us connected....I owe him so much and I don't know how to begin to repay him. I don't want him to forget me...but at this point I feel as though he has given up on me already. I don't think I can prove to him how much he means to me...but I'm determined to try.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I were to actually make a resolution this year it would be to simply keep my self from getting caught up in the everyday routine of life and to include those that aren't normally included. I think that I put too much emphasis on the friends that I see everyday and generally those have been my biggest let downs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some don't seem to value my company...some use me a place holder until they can get back to their "real friends" or whatever they are...some use me for other things...who knows what&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I'm determined to at least attempt to reach out to those that have reached out to me for so long...if I keep pushing them away I feel I will lead a miserable life when I get out into the world and find no one left behind me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 218px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SWMTotEJpcI/AAAAAAAAAE0/FCgr-D7Dk4Q/s320/logo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288091977475794370" /&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/3977538014743804836-987828024120701559?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/987828024120701559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=987828024120701559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/987828024120701559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/987828024120701559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/now-weve-all-grown-up-gone-on-and-moved.html' title='Now we&apos;ve all grown up, gone on, and moved away'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SWMTotEJpcI/AAAAAAAAAE0/FCgr-D7Dk4Q/s72-c/logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4740183145384801530</id><published>2009-01-04T02:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T02:22:15.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You can run from love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...and if it's really love it will find you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;-U2 "A Man and A Woman"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Every year we grow just a little. Sometimes it's a significant growth other times we barely notice, but as time passes we continue to learn and grow. It's a beautiful thing. This past year, more than anything else, I've learned to love myself a bit more. I've dealt with so many guys in the past that at their time seemed "perfect" but when I look back I realize that none of them were really what I was looking for...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One seemed perfect because he was my best friend and I could talk to him about anything and everything...but he wasn't truly ambitious enough. He let himself get stuck and wasn't willing to take the steps to escape...I'm not meant to live my life forever in one place. I need adventure I need to move around and see the world...in the end I would have gone crazy from that stationary life....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another seemed perfect because he WANTED that adventure I sought in my life. He questioned everything and challenged me intellectually...but he was too flaky. I was low on his list of important things and while I enjoyed every moment I spent with him they were few and far between....in the end I would have been frustrated by his lack of commitment....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet another seemed perfect because he was a complete sweetheart. He would do almost anything for me and while it took awhile for me to get used to I adored him for it...I felt special when I was around him and that was something none of the others really did for me....but he wasn't very mature. He couldn't communicate with me and so in the end I would have walked away for the sheer fact that communication is key in any relationship...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There have been others...but the important thing I've realized is that rather than settling for guys that seem like the right thing at the time I need to focus more on getting to know someone for more than JUST they're great qualities...every guy is wonderful in one way or another, but that doesn't make them "perfect". Perfection is impossible to find...and now I know that I'm looking for someone a bit more balanced...who can be a best friend that I can talk to about anything that also wants more than to just stay in his hometown forever and knows how to be sweet and make me feel special...I don't think that's a tall order to fill :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just can't settle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's to a new year with new adventures and new friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and who cares whether or not there are new boys (though undoubtably there will be)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm looking for nothing more than friendship at this point&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life is wonderful just the way it is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need nothing to hold me back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SWBjTsaDmnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IsmIgnsPULQ/s320/theverybrokenheart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287335152522074738" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I could never take a chance of losing love to find romance in the mysterious distance between a man and a woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-4740183145384801530?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4740183145384801530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4740183145384801530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4740183145384801530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4740183145384801530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-can-run-from-love.html' title='You can run from love'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SWBjTsaDmnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IsmIgnsPULQ/s72-c/theverybrokenheart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8441276999160757549</id><published>2008-12-31T13:04:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T17:26:45.617-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I ain't the great romantic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...and I'm not doubling back now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Jason Mraz "No Doubling Back Now"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This year had been a most tumultuous one...with it's constant ups and downs&lt;div&gt;I've described it as the worst, but that's a lie. Heartache is bad, but nothing compares to the loss of a loved one...or 3. So no matter, what this year could never compare to that. At this point in my life, where I'm reflecting on the year that is passing and the one that is coming, I won't reflect on the bad I'll only remember the good because in the end the good always outweighs the bad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so here's to the people&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here's to the places&lt;/div&gt;here's to the memories that made 2008 okay&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu2GTDBisI/AAAAAAAAADc/LSuc9cOp2WM/s320/l_a0b583bf9d1085ebeb5158f3bab9f27a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286018806957836994" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SV1CmmEoYjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/5_y7Jkz6qug/s320/n4925021_41189851_2749.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286454768425263666" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu3L7lNLoI/AAAAAAAAADs/UhXHTbme3n0/s320/Gwen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286020003249598082" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6dGM7ZjI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N5Tc_zMcBPo/s320/Photo+11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286023596693218866" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu1jDCaBWI/AAAAAAAAADU/0wP17UJzU7A/s320/n50500098_31173054_9373.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286018201364858210" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6cT14A9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/FmBWvr_Qg4A/s1600-h/Photo+112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6cT14A9I/AAAAAAAAAEM/FmBWvr_Qg4A/s320/Photo+112.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286023583174755282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6cFaumkI/AAAAAAAAAD8/EGgB3PYwGRE/s320/Rusty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286023579302795842" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6dJbOzKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/2OM6T1UEEHg/s320/Photo+130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286023597558516898" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu2-jkj1-I/AAAAAAAAADk/66QPXCZmnlw/s320/Sam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286019773466138594" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu6cGCBuiI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NEiTh9MZQY8/s320/Photo+53.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286023579467627042" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu3wo5umqI/AAAAAAAAAD0/17OR_8_1TKI/s320/n50501433_31161261_5441.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286020633890560674" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thanks friends I can never repay you for all the love you've shown me &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and here's to 2009 and hoping...knowing that it will be so much better!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;/div&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/3977538014743804836-8441276999160757549?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8441276999160757549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8441276999160757549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8441276999160757549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8441276999160757549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-guess-i-aint-great-romantic.html' title='I guess I ain&apos;t the great romantic'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVu2GTDBisI/AAAAAAAAADc/LSuc9cOp2WM/s72-c/l_a0b583bf9d1085ebeb5158f3bab9f27a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-1806484147109789239</id><published>2008-12-27T02:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T02:24:45.009-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've lived</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...learned, loved, and lost&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Ronnie Day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;2008 was a pretty shitty year BUT it had some great moments sprinkled in and I made some really good friends along the way. I wouldn't change it I guess. Here's a few things I learned about myself this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. First loves are nearly impossible to get over. Try as I might I can't seem to shake it, but I'd rather be friends than nothing at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I'm like one of those puzzle pieces that kind of seem like they fit in a lot of places and you can force it in but in the end it'll only get stuck because it doesn't really belong. After 22 years on Earth I still just can't find anywhere that I truly belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Random short phone calls asking my opinion or my advice completely make my day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I only get crushes on guys that I'm really good friends with...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Some girls are bitches and won't like you no matter what you do (0r don't do for that matter.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Music has the uncanny ability to save lives. (especially my own I would be dead without it I'm certain)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I am an INCREDIBLY jealous person by nature. I just hide it pretty well...sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. I really like Mac and Cheese...especially at 3 am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. I'm not as bad of a writer as I like to tell people...I'm just a horrible procrastinator and lack motivation unless I'm REALLY passionate about the subject.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;10. As much as I love change...I crave consistency, and I can never seem to find it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVXXvd3H3FI/AAAAAAAAADM/FIQFsHBCyqg/s320/Photo+304.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284366948258798674" /&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/3977538014743804836-1806484147109789239?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/1806484147109789239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=1806484147109789239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1806484147109789239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/1806484147109789239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/ive-lived.html' title='I&apos;ve lived'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SVXXvd3H3FI/AAAAAAAAADM/FIQFsHBCyqg/s72-c/Photo+304.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3426728147938321414</id><published>2008-12-12T05:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T14:36:41.684-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's just no one who gets me like you do</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...you are my only one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;-Yellowcard "Only One"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should be writing my paper. For some reason I can't get the words I want to say to come out right, but I was just completely distracted by a song. I mean songs normally move me but this one I hadn't heard in so long and the emotions and memories it instilled in me almost brought me to tears (of course there were people in my living room so crying was completely out of the question.) I realized listening to the lyrics that I miss more than anything having someone just get me. I miss having someone understand everything about me and know me better than I knew myself. I miss having a best friend. Don't get me wrong. I have some great friends, but none of them really &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;get&lt;/span&gt; me, ya know? I miss having someone that I could talk to about anything and everything. I miss that connection with a person, where you only had to look at them and they truly knew everything that was going on inside of you. It's just not fair.  I don't know what I did to lose that, and I don't know if I'll ever find it again. It drives me crazy because I feel like I always do something wrong. I always lose my closest friends. They find something better. they find someone else. they decide I'm not worth it. To them I'm just a entertaining whim...a passing fad....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate not knowing what I've done and the feeling of knowing that being myself is never good enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-3426728147938321414?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3426728147938321414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3426728147938321414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3426728147938321414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3426728147938321414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/theres-just-no-one-who-gets-me-like-you.html' title='There&apos;s just no one who gets me like you do'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7249054092440172072</id><published>2008-12-08T02:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:41:40.941-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This place is like a prison</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...I think I'm gonna make a break for it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Relient K "Here I Go"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If there's one thing I've learned in my life it's this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People are inherent liars. They can't help it so "above all else guard your heart for it is the well spring of life" Proverbs 4:23&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not one to spout off Bible verses, but you've got to admit that one is completely spot on. I mean we only have one heart and it CAN be broken. If you're heart can break it can also be shattered beyond repair and that's not something to play around with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before you ask....No....my heart's not "shattered" and it's no longer broken either. It's mended it's self pretty well, but there are some scars on my heart that won't go away and I feel like the more people (as a whole) let me down, and the more they disappoint me the worse it is. I'm not perfect, but there are somethings I just can't play around with. Hearts are one of them. I don't like to play with peoples emotions and so it hurts twice as much when people play with mine. I'm frustrated with people as a whole...I'm tired of them lying to me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and I'm just...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UGH&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm getting SO anxious&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's like everyday now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my emotions go on overdrive and I can't control them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to leave Columbus soon or I'll probably go insane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll miss my friends....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there's no denying that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I can't stay here if I'm not happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to think about myself this time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and just run&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This city's made us crazy and we must get out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Maroon 5 "Must Get Out"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-7249054092440172072?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7249054092440172072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7249054092440172072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7249054092440172072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7249054092440172072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-place-is-like-prison.html' title='This place is like a prison'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5968632382162289745</id><published>2008-12-06T01:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T01:26:36.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess it goes to show</title><content type='html'>...that good things fall apart.&lt;div&gt;-Ronnie Day "Lived Learned Loved and Lost"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been one of those days....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy to the semester is almost over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really miss you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that it's winter (well the Christmas season is upon us at least)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss our random phone calls&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I only have 2 more weeks of classes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss texting you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I have money to buy Christmas presents for my family/friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss having someone to talk to about everything and nothing at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I'll FINALLY get to go home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss having someone know me almost better than I know myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I've made such good friends this year&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss knowing that you'd call&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that this year is ALMOST OVER Hallelujah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss seeing you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that I only have one more semester&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss your random visits&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that LOST starts again in 46 days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss your smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss it when you'd sing to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss your hugs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy though&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm happy that you're happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I miss my best friend.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.....it's been one of those days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5968632382162289745?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5968632382162289745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5968632382162289745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5968632382162289745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5968632382162289745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/guess-it-goes-to-show.html' title='Guess it goes to show'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5160927125142998119</id><published>2008-12-01T13:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T08:26:19.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something tastes different</title><content type='html'>....maybe it's my tongue&lt;div&gt;Ingrid Michaelson "Die Alone"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've come to realize a few things:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate being in large groups for an extended period of time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can probably count the people I trust completely on one hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I REALLY hate making plans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss my uncle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss my friends....not that I don't have some here. but the ones from my past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to run away...but I can't&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;darn responsibility&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/3977538014743804836-5160927125142998119?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5160927125142998119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5160927125142998119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5160927125142998119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5160927125142998119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/12/something-tastes-different.html' title='Something tastes different'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7415698698456215542</id><published>2008-11-24T00:53:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T08:17:59.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen</title><content type='html'>...but not to me?&lt;div&gt;-Jason Mraz "You and I Both"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear boy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate you....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I love you....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know how I feel, but I'm tired of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You always feel like you can play this game with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like my emotions aren't real....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I'm not a real person....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'M REAL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have real feelings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not a game!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can't like me one day &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and hate me the next &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you can't tell me you want to be with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then avoid me like the plague!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can't kiss me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then run away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life doesn't work that way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; don't work that way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just so tired of you always doing this to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why can't you just be honest for once?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why can't you just say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hey, I think you're cute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to date you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but I'd like to kiss you if that's alright"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I could know what I'm getting into from the beginning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wouldn't have to guess&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could resign myself to the "nice girl" status you've given me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and go on with my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could accept that even though you say you aren't the same as the others&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you really are...when it comes to me at least&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want you to be honest with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You don't like me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great! Just tell me. Chances are I'm not sure how I feel about you anyway&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand that you might just think you're protecting my feelings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promise you're not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every time you do this to me you tear a piece of my heart away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't have much left&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;please guard the rest with care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn't handle to lose very much more of it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry if I come off as a jerk sometimes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't mean too....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just afraid of you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't handle the power you have over me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes I just want you to disappear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then again I always want you next to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;thanks boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;until we meet again,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;India&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*just to be clear, boy is every boy, not just one because at this point every boy is the same in my eyes. sorry for the generalization. so it goes*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7415698698456215542?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7415698698456215542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7415698698456215542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7415698698456215542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7415698698456215542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/was-it-you-who-spoke-words-that-things.html' title='Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7780382223924467010</id><published>2008-11-13T12:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:29:06.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...I wanna break this spell that you've created.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Muse "Time is Running Out"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why am I such an idiot?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's quite possible that I've made a very big mistake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I act without thinking, and then I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what to do at this point. I could ignore it, but that never fixes anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could be blowing things out of proportion in my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(I do that fairly often)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really just don't want to hurt anyone.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UGH &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I just wish I knew what to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another note&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; on this Coldplay high that I've been on since the concert.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was heavenly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pure and simple. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think I'll ever go to another concert as amazing (yes amazing!) as that one was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cried.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't been this happy in a REALLY long time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(and it feels amazing)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just love the effect that music can have on a person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was truly an extraordinary experience! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SRxjsz4hCDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kMQFKl3AOds/s320/DSCN0465.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268195285609285682" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-7780382223924467010?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7780382223924467010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7780382223924467010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7780382223924467010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7780382223924467010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-think-im-drowning-asphyxiated.html' title='I think I&apos;m drowning, asphyxiated'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SRxjsz4hCDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/kMQFKl3AOds/s72-c/DSCN0465.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7123117464427375047</id><published>2008-11-06T23:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T23:18:35.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it takes some fears to make you trust</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; "&gt;It takes some tears to make it rust. It takes the rust to HAVE it polished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"&gt;-Jason Mraz "Life is Wonderful"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"&gt;For years people have been telling me that I have horrible taste in guys. I've always known they were true, but I never noticed to what extent until recently. Dureyea's always told me that I only like guys that I can argue with...and while I don't think that's true; I've come to realize that I don't think I like guys that like me back....and by that I mean guys who show complete unwavering affection towards me. My mom thinks I'm falling into a scary pattern. She thinks I'll end up alone. I mean it's possible. I just...grr..it bothers me. I don't know WHY I put myself through these things, but when a guy comes along and he's nice...he's funny...he's smart...he's cute. You'd think I'd be into him but no. not me. I find every stupid reason that I can to not like him. I think I need a challenge in my life. I like guys who won't just agree with everything I say. I need someone who will question my beliefs...question my morals...and push me into a stronger person. I met this guy and if I were to write out everything great about him he'd sound almost perfect....but I think he's "too perfect" I'm just not into him in that way. I don't want to date someone I could GROW to like...I want to like someone and grow to love him. Does that makes sense? Whatever. My friends think I'm afraid to get into a real relationship again. I tried it once and I had my heart ripped out of my chest and feed back to me on a silver platter (or at least that's what it felt like) by my BEST FRIEND. You can't do any better than that...so what does that say about my future? Looks pretty dark to me...but Obama's gonna be our President and no matter how "unChristian" (whatever the heck that means) or "hypocritical" that makes me I'm excited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-7123117464427375047?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7123117464427375047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7123117464427375047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7123117464427375047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7123117464427375047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-takes-some-fears-to-make-you-trust.html' title='it takes some fears to make you trust'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3208540055180142151</id><published>2008-11-06T00:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T01:02:21.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We won't break. We won't die.</title><content type='html'>It's just a moment of change.&lt;div&gt;-OneRepublic "All We Are"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our country chose a new President-elect last night, and while I expected this historic event to be met with excitement from some and graceful disappointment from others I was sorely mistaken. It's very disheartening to hear people say things like, "Our country is going to hell!", "F*** Obama! I'm moving to Canada.", or "My President is Black!" I'm sorry are we not currently in the middle of the worst economic crisis our country has faced since The Great Depression? Is our nation not currently rampant with rapes, murders, all forms of abuse, and poverty? When times are hard people tend to run, but when times are hard that's when we need to come together as a nation and work &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;together &lt;/span&gt;to make it better! People who focus on the race of our President disappoint me just as much. They seem to neglect the most important things about our new President. Obama is a good man who sees the turmoil of our country and strives to make it better. When I think about my President I could care less what color he is. He could be green for all I care!Aas long as he wants to make my country a better place he's got my vote. If our country fails it will not be because of him. It will be because we, as a people, place so much importance on ourselves and competing with others that we neglect the needs of those around us. We elevate our own self worth by pushing others down and we see absolutely nothing wrong with that. We have an inherent need for competition. Everything in our lives revolves around that and it shouldn't. Our lives should focus on love. real love. not the fake surface "love" we tend to display. We should be focused on making our country better as a whole and not neglect each other to make our individual lives better. That's what I see in Obama and that's what I'd like to see in my country. Change is not something to be feared. We can only make ourselves better through change. So when I hear people discuss our new President it would be wonderful if they focused on these things...and not his race...or whether or not he is the Anti-Christ....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3208540055180142151?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3208540055180142151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3208540055180142151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3208540055180142151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3208540055180142151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/we-wont-break-we-wont-die.html' title='We won&apos;t break. We won&apos;t die.'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8137647827303347860</id><published>2008-11-03T23:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:30:53.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I just want to feel today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Times;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I just want to feel something today-Ingrid Michaelson "Be Ok"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We Wear The Mask by Paul Dunbar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; wear the mask that grins and lies, &lt;br /&gt;    It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— &lt;br /&gt;    This debt we pay to human guile; &lt;br /&gt;    With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, &lt;br /&gt;    And mouth with myriad subtleties.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    Why should the world be over-wise, &lt;br /&gt;    In counting all our tears and sighs? &lt;br /&gt;    Nay, let them only see us, while &lt;br /&gt;            We wear the mask.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;    We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries &lt;br /&gt;    To thee from tortured souls arise. &lt;br /&gt;    We sing, but oh the clay is vile &lt;br /&gt;    Beneath our feet, and long the mile; &lt;br /&gt;    But let the world dream otherwise, &lt;br /&gt;            We wear the mask!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8137647827303347860?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8137647827303347860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8137647827303347860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8137647827303347860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8137647827303347860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-just-want-to-feel-today.html' title='I just want to feel today'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2957363048520337693</id><published>2008-11-02T01:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T01:37:38.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm blending in so you won't even know me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...apart from this whole world that shares my fate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K-Be My Escape&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I wear the mask to hide my sins&lt;div&gt;and all the things that must be kept inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my heart buried deep inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;where no one can touch them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no one can find who I am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2957363048520337693?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2957363048520337693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2957363048520337693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2957363048520337693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2957363048520337693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-blending-in-so-you-wont-even-know-me.html' title='I&apos;m blending in so you won&apos;t even know me'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5296269396452391901</id><published>2008-10-20T18:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T20:26:03.708-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Call it torture. Call it university.</title><content type='html'>...arts and crafts is all I need. I'll take calligraphy and then I'll make a fake degree.&lt;div&gt;-Relient K "College Kids"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've come to realize that after 4 1/2 years of college....I've pretty much been wasting my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;Yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;In order to succeed in my life I'll need the degree, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;BUT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt; I think it's just a piece of paper saying I know how to regurgitate information that was shoved unwillingly down my throat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;I'm not in school to learn dates and to take pointless tests. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;I'm here to learn. I love literature &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;and I want to know as much about it as I can so that I can teach others the beauty of reading...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;I don't care what year Yeats was born...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;I don't care how many kids Shakespeare had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt; I'm so over this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;I don't understand why I have to waste my time cramming for tests and stressing out over midterms, and research papers, and crap &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 9px; "&gt;just for a piece of paper to say that I'm smart!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-5296269396452391901?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5296269396452391901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5296269396452391901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5296269396452391901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5296269396452391901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/10/call-it-torture-call-it-university.html' title='Call it torture. Call it university.'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-7638802466703747947</id><published>2008-10-13T00:41:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T08:01:55.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The things bottled inside</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;have finally begun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; to create so much pressure I might soon blow up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Relient K "Who I am Hates Who I've Been"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I realized today that there's a lot that I need to just say in order to gain some form of sanity...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;....here it goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I have a problem...and this problem is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; is it that a girl can be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;nice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...a girl can be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, but in general a girl can't be both?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;for example I realize when people describe me it's always as the "nicest girl they know" or something to that effect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I don't need people to tell me I'm pretty that's not what I'm getting at BUT I do want is to not al&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ways be overlooked or forgotten simply because I am "the nice girl" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;which I feel happens more often than not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;People see me as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;innocent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;they see me as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;nice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and that's about as much as they care to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It drives me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;insane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; sometimes because I don't always wanna be the "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;nice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;" girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and by that I don't mean I want to be mean &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm just tired of being overlooked....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I want to know that I'm more than just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I just can't handle another guy saying "You're too nice for me to date" or "You're like my little sister you're so sweet" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'M NOT YOUR SISTER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I always get thrown in that category and I probably set myself up for that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;but I'm in a vicious cycle that just won't end and it drives me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;insane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Every time I move I feel like it'll be different&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;of course not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; best friend"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"the sister"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"the nice girl"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; and that's about as far as I'll ever go.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I just don't know what I've done to deserve this permanent friend zone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and I CERTAINLY don't want to get into the matter of people not finding me "attractive" simply because of the color of my skin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;that's probably the lowest blow I've ever gotten (and trust me I get it fairly often) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I just feel like I'm going to blow up soon if I hear any of this one more time....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I don't want to be mean...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I don't want to "change"....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;but I feel like I'm clearly doing something wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;i just wish I knew what :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-7638802466703747947?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/7638802466703747947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=7638802466703747947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7638802466703747947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/7638802466703747947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-bottled-up-inside.html' title='The things bottled inside'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-658032183569837092</id><published>2008-09-26T19:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T19:51:57.591-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I walk a lonely road</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...the only one that I have ever known.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Green Day "Boulevard of Broken Dreams"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's 7:45 on a Friday night...I  should not be this TIRED.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UGH&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm on duty tonight and I just finished my first round only to have to start the next in 15 minutes. I still need to learn my lines for Gwen's directing scene and the Presidental Debate is tonight at 9.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just need for things to slow down so that I can catch my breath. I'm drowning here and I can't find the surface.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully I'll get a break when I go visit my brother next weekend....hopefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More and more I'm just ready to leave. I know there's nothing holding me here anymore. It's time that I moved on. I just need to make it through this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As much as I love my freshman, my friends, my teachers, and of course Robin....I can't stick around just for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never been one to stay stationary for extended periods of time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's time I packed my bags and kept running....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-658032183569837092?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/658032183569837092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=658032183569837092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/658032183569837092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/658032183569837092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-walk-lonely-road.html' title='I walk a lonely road'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-269356989461221226</id><published>2008-09-22T08:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T17:31:27.911-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...when you're away and I'm missing you to death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Iron and Wine "Such Great Heights"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where to begin. My life is an emotional rollercoaster at the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one moment I'm content and the next&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;       I'm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;           plunging&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;  into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;  a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;    freefall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;              &lt;/span&gt;  of &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;               &lt;/span&gt;  sadness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;                 &lt;/span&gt; or &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;                 &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;anger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's like no matter what I do I can't keep myself steady.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I'm trying my best to keep this boat afloat, but there's a hole in it's side that I just can't fix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Without my friends I'd drown. Without Jesus I would die. Without my family I would fail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's all of these things that keep me going despite the hell my life seems to turn into.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As "emo" as this sounds. I'm ok at the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that's fine with me :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yet in the midst of all this ice and snow our hearts stay warm cause they are filled with hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Relient K "In like a Lion  (Always Winter)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="border-collapse: collapse;   -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:verdana;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal verdana; line-height: 16px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 10px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal verdana; line-height: 16px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 10px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-269356989461221226?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/269356989461221226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=269356989461221226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/269356989461221226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/269356989461221226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-thoughts-like-this-that-catch-my.html' title='It&apos;s thoughts like this that catch my troubled head'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3839833778405260450</id><published>2008-09-02T02:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T02:51:28.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If the burden seems too much to bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;remember the end will justify the pain it took to get us there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Relient K  "Let It All Out"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have so much to say&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and absolutely no time to say it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so it goes :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3839833778405260450?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3839833778405260450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3839833778405260450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3839833778405260450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3839833778405260450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-burden-seems-too-much-to-bear.html' title='If the burden seems too much to bear'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3345094284455723530</id><published>2008-08-25T13:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T15:23:09.137-04:00</updated><title type='text'>let go, just get in whatcha waiting for</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...it's alright cause there's beauty in the breakdown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Frou Frou "Let Go"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at some point you will break free &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                            and see the beauty that's been there all along&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when that time comes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                            it is absolutely beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3977538014743804836-3345094284455723530?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3345094284455723530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3345094284455723530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3345094284455723530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3345094284455723530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/let-go-just-get-in-whatcha-waiting-for.html' title='let go, just get in whatcha waiting for'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-4435675711561700260</id><published>2008-08-19T18:11:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T18:54:17.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When kindness falls like rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...it washes me away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Counting Crows "Anna Begins"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my life has been&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;crazy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hectic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;busy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;interesting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all within the past few days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where to start?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8/15-my birthday/the first day of check in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At Midnight Summer and Michael called me to say Happy Birthday and at the same time Hannah and Jamie got all of the RAs together and they surprised me by bringing me a cake and singing Happy Birthday to me. It was a little overwhelming though because after an exausting week of training I was insanely tired and I was hanging out Dureyea and a few freshman residents at the time. It was really nice though because they'd made me a shirt  and they all remembered my birthday :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up at 7 and we set up for check ins. I've gotta say that it was a lot of work dealing with the parents who were sad and didn't want to let their children go. At 5 when we finally got off work I went to my room and played on Caspian for a bit (he's the mac I got for my birthday and that  I'm currently typing on right now. He's pretty phenomenal) Matt and Rusty came over to visit and then the 3 of us and Gwen decided we'd all go out to eat because I really wanted to just hang out with some friends (it was my birthday after all) so I texted a bunch of people (most of whom were busy or had other plans which I completely expected) Jamie and Hannah said they definitely wanted to hang out with me (of course!) so they came over and with John and the 7 of us went to Friday's and it was at that moment that I realized that the greatest gift anyone could ever give me was the gift of time. I would have gladly given up Caspian, Jacob (my new iPod), everything just to spend my birthday with my best friends...not just a handful...but all of them. It was also at that moment that I realized how much I loved all of the people that wanted to hang out with me. Jamie and I didn't really hang out a lot last year but she was definitely my saving grace during RA training. Without her I probably would have gone crazy. Hannah has always been a pretty good friend of mine, but within the past few weeks I can definitely say she's one of my best friends. She's so genuine and I just love spending time with  her. Rusty is a new freshman that I met at orientation and we hit it off pretty well there because we have similar taste in music, but the fact that he made particularly sure to spend my birthday with me meant more than I can say. Matt...hmm what can I say...I've always thought he was really cool, and I've always considered us friends, but now Matt (like Hannah) has definitely gone way up on my lists of awesome people. John and Gwen have always been 2 of my best friends...and they're two of the most unselfish people you could meet so it would have  shocked me if I didn't hang out with them on my birthday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I can say is that I have a few really awesome friends and I don't know what I'd do with out them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3977538014743804836-4435675711561700260?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/4435675711561700260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=4435675711561700260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4435675711561700260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/4435675711561700260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-kindness-falls-like-rain.html' title='When kindness falls like rain'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3092377305536000985</id><published>2008-08-10T23:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:21:51.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have climbed highest mountains, I have run through the fields</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...only to be with you...but I still haven't found what I'm looking for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-U2 "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what makes me crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;expected answer I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my problem. As much as I hate to admit it I have the worst taste EVER in men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always seem to choose the guy with the problem, the one that's a douche, or I mean the guy who's gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just frustrating to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think right now I'm just frustrated because I realize more and more that this is the trend that I inevitably fall into. You'd think by now I'd learn my lesson, but I clearly have not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hate liking a boy who obviously doesn't seem to return those feelings...and sometimes he does, but clearly not as strong....and sometimes he just transfers his affections for another girl (who it didn't work out with) onto me...and that only makes it worse for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH the best solution is that now is probably the best time in my life to be single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;avoiding boy problems makes life so much easier :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" name="244"&gt;Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" name="245"&gt;We cannot fight for love, as men may do;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" name="246"&gt;We should be woo'd and were not made to woo.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3092377305536000985?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3092377305536000985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3092377305536000985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3092377305536000985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3092377305536000985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-climbed-highest-mountains-i-have.html' title='I have climbed highest mountains, I have run through the fields'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8891588041197681336</id><published>2008-08-06T01:26:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:45:51.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>see the way He holds the stars in His hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...see the way He holds my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Misty Edwards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;when I look up at the night sky and I see the stars and the beauty of the world around me I can't help but smile at the wonder of it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when I'm really and truly sad or lonely the one thing that will always remind me of the love that I was given is the beauty of nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's always baffled me how anyone can look at a sunrise, or watch a meteor shower, or experience anything as beautiful as a solar eclipse and not believe in Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking of Him reminds me of the love He gave me and inspires me to try to love the world half as much as He did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my every smile is for Him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my every laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my every breath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes I forget to give Him credit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or to say thank you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but He really is my everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and everything I have&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything I am is because of Him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the ultimate rock star...in case you didn't know :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God is a lover looking for a lover so He fashioned me.-Misty Edwards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth-1 John 3:18&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8891588041197681336?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8891588041197681336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8891588041197681336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8891588041197681336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8891588041197681336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/see-way-he-holds-stars-in-his-hand.html' title='see the way He holds the stars in His hand'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8351261174323787393</id><published>2008-08-02T22:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T22:28:04.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The sky's alive with burning light</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...you can mark my words something's about to break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Mat Kearney "Nothing Left to Lose"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm losing my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's official. i can't deny it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is something seriously wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what it is, but try as i might i can't shake it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny. so often i convince myself that i'm a strong person. i convince myself that i can handle anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know what to do about this anymore. i'm trying so hard to let go, but even after a month away. i still find myself stuck in the same spot as before! i just want to move on. i want to go on with my life but i can't and i don't know why! i don't hate him...but i hate the person i've allowed him to turn me into. there was a time in my life when i could handle anything. there was a time in my life when i was completely happy. i don't understand how a stupid boy could wither me down to nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can he have the same effect on me as things much more traumatic, much more life changing. he's just one person and really there was a time when i didn't give him the time of day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my how tides have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've decided to cut him out of my life. at least until i can stop myself from drowning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i valued our friendship so much, but clearly my friendship means little to nothing to him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the same can be said about my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i deserve better and i KNOW that...i really do. i deserve better than him...so much better and i will find it but as long as he's in my life i can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need a break and i'm taking it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.&lt;/span&gt; -The Holiday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8351261174323787393?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8351261174323787393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8351261174323787393' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8351261174323787393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8351261174323787393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/skys-alive-with-burning-light.html' title='The sky&apos;s alive with burning light'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3689308073162879097</id><published>2008-08-01T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T11:53:59.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I could use another cigarrette</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;...but don't worry Daddy. I'm not addicted yet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Sara Bareilles "Come Round Soon"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way he makes me feel. I hate coming home and seeing him. I hate it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worst of all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate myself for letting him in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was smarter than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3689308073162879097?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3689308073162879097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3689308073162879097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3689308073162879097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3689308073162879097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-could-use-another-cigarrette.html' title='I could use another cigarrette'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-3293424896545555197</id><published>2008-07-27T03:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T03:59:41.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a secret that never dies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...like a dance of hidden meanings that we never comprehend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Kurt Elling "Esperanto"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's 3:30 in the morning and before I go to bed I wanted to reflect on a few things....&lt;br /&gt;*my boss is great because she's letting me leave for a week even though I'm supposed to be on duty and even though we have SO much to do at the office.&lt;br /&gt;*my friends are great because every time I see them they just make me feel so happy. we don't have to do anything more than sit and talk at IHOP for 3 hours and I'm still just in awe of how cool they are.&lt;br /&gt;*I'm going to Disney in the morning. nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;*I get to see my friends from home on Wed! I missed them, but more importantly I get to see my mom and father...and BRADY!&lt;br /&gt;*this summer has been so stressful but it's winding up well and that makes me happy&lt;br /&gt;*boy is great. he's just so cool and i love talking to him about everything and anything and he actually seemed really happy about the present I gave him. Can I just say I'm pretty certain he's the first person that I gave a present to who really seemed to appreciate it. normally it makes me sad because i put SO much thought into making a present because I just want you to know how much you mean to me and I may not be rich and I can't buy you an ipod or anything, but i put my heart into every song I put onto a cd so it makes me sad when people are like oh...uh ok thanks. he really seemed to appreciate it which adds another 50 points to his already high list of awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;*i'm tired so i'm off to bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-3293424896545555197?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/3293424896545555197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=3293424896545555197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3293424896545555197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/3293424896545555197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/theres-secret-that-never-dies.html' title='There&apos;s a secret that never dies'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2078691912312037906</id><published>2008-07-22T13:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:12:03.901-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and suddenly the sky opens above you</title><content type='html'>and someone really loves you&lt;br /&gt;-tobyMac "Suddenly"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i both love and hate my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i got to spend the weekend with Lena, Jonathan, and 3 incredibly hot Danish guys...one of whom really liked me and thought I was great. (and who spoke Danish to me to help me fall asleep &lt;3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i've been working/on duty almost every single day of this summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm officially done with summer classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i don't know if i can go home next week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i've seen the dark knight twice already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that even if i can go...he can't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that dureyea is going to be a ra next year. he'll keep me from going insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i don't even know how he feels about me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i got to spend time just people watching and walking around downtown with Scott and Michael.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm too scared to ask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i have a new movie buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm worried about being a ra next year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i can't say the same thing about everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i'm actually over that one guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that my friendships with my friends back home aren't all as strong as they once were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that Summer, Lena, Jonathan, Michael, Patrick and Dureyea are in Columbus this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love the new freshman that i've met thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love that i've been really and truly happy pretty much for an entire week. (that hasn't happened in a long time!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my amazing friends (like my sister Sam) because they always know how to make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly I love more than I hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i love that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;overall I'm really happy with myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm homesick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll actually end this with a picture because in my mind it solidifies the end of the best week I've had all summer from freshman orientation to seeing The Dark Knight to hanging out with cool Danish guys to making Summer's Beowulf video and ending summer classes...it's been a really great week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SIZqZriDh1I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZQJoD-VXy0g/s1600-h/n46200231_33298681_236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SIZqZriDh1I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZQJoD-VXy0g/s320/n46200231_33298681_236.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225981407024875346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2078691912312037906?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2078691912312037906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2078691912312037906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2078691912312037906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2078691912312037906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-suddenly-sky-opens-above-you.html' title='and suddenly the sky opens above you'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/SIZqZriDh1I/AAAAAAAAABA/ZQJoD-VXy0g/s72-c/n46200231_33298681_236.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8494295393401752778</id><published>2008-07-18T21:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T13:08:36.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I need a sunrise</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...I'm tired of the sunset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Augustana "Boston&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's been such a weird day for me. I woke up and I was happy, but now I'm just in an extremely blah mood. It could just be that I'm tired,but right now I'm more homesick than I've been in a really long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And strangely its mainly just my family that I miss. I think I'm in that forgotten mind set where it feels like if I went home I'd be an outcast...and if I stay here I still really just don't fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it could just be my imagination&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or it could be that I'm coming off of the high that the freshman gave me at orientation. I made some pretty cool friends and now I'm back to a big empty quiet building&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever it is...I don't like feeling this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn my stupid mind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8494295393401752778?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8494295393401752778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8494295393401752778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8494295393401752778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8494295393401752778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-think-i-need-sunrise.html' title='I think I need a sunrise'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5101700989050242062</id><published>2008-07-16T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T01:01:56.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>and lately the weather has been so bipolar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...and consequently so have I.&lt;br /&gt;-Relient K "High of '75"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I love my friends. I don't think it can be said enough that without them this summer would have royally sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had the strangest few days. My emotions have been going up and down a lot and I think it's honestly got a lot to do with my homesickness. I struggle daily with loving/hating it here. I love my friends (as I've already said and as I probably will say numerous times) but I hate that I never really get a break and that I'm constantly running around...I haven't even had time to clean my apartment and that's not cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note: the other day Jono and I went to Sumo to Go-Go and we got free sushi! It was nice..well honestly the sushi wasn't that great but it was free and that rocks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like there was something that I really meant to say...I even remember saying it earlier to Jonathan that I was going to write it on my blog...but as usual my add has gotten the best of me and I'm too distracted by Snow Patrol (currently playing on my iTunes) to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonathan, Summer and I are going to Disney the last week of July! I'm so excited I really REALLY need a break and what better place to go than the Happiest Place on Earth?  We're hoping we can get Sam to come too because that would seriously just be the icing on the cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading Eat, Pray, Love...and I'm so proud of myself. When I first started reading it I just knew I'd get to a place where I'd say I'd just rush through it so I can get back to The Dark Tower...but I love this book so much that even though I'm devouring it page by page..it's a slow process and that makes me happy. I don't have to rush through books! I enjoy reading because it transports me to a new world a new place. I can see, feel, and almost hear what the characters are experiencing...why would I want to rush that? I really do feel myself falling more and more in love with myself everyday and it's just the greatest feeling! I just feel so much more comfortable in my skin. I'm even kinda getting to the point where I feel like boy doesn't really deserve me...and to honestly say that is a BIG step for me. I think I just keep thinking that really I should be worth fighting for..and if it's so easy for him to replace me. not once. but twice. then obviously I deserve better. Besides just because he watches LOST and listens to musicals for me (among many other more pertinent things of course but those are two of my favorite things to mention) doesn't mean he's perfect. He's just as flawed as I am. and if he doesn't like my flaws. then we weren't meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned that I love my friends btw?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and to make life even better my parents are ordering my new Mac soon! I'm so excited it's a Macbook Pro and it comes with a free printer AND a free iPod TOUCH! I really can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year is going to be amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can just feel it and I really can't wait. I haven't had a truly good year since 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm determined to change that now :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5101700989050242062?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5101700989050242062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5101700989050242062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5101700989050242062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5101700989050242062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-persistence-was-once-much-stronger.html' title='and lately the weather has been so bipolar'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2884401171546195695</id><published>2008-07-12T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:47:38.457-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sure the view from heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...beats the hell out of mine here.&lt;br /&gt;-Yellowcard "View from Heaven"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia,Book Antiqua;"&gt; Death, be not proud, though some have called thee&lt;br /&gt;Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ;&lt;br /&gt;For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,&lt;br /&gt;Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.&lt;br /&gt;From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,&lt;br /&gt;Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,&lt;br /&gt;And soonest our best men with thee do go,&lt;br /&gt;Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.&lt;br /&gt;Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,&lt;br /&gt;And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,&lt;br /&gt;And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,&lt;br /&gt;And better than thy stroke ;  why swell'st thou then ?&lt;br /&gt;One short sleep past, we wake eternally,&lt;br /&gt;And Death shall be no more, Death, thou shalt die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-John Donne, Holy Sonnet X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why Donne is the rockstar of metaphysical poetry. Though Becky doesn't agree :)&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/3977538014743804836-2884401171546195695?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2884401171546195695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2884401171546195695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2884401171546195695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2884401171546195695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-sure-view-from-heaven.html' title='I&apos;m sure the view from heaven'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8765197605727978292</id><published>2008-07-12T12:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:48:39.182-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter</title><content type='html'>.. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but my will gets weak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and my thoughts seem to scatter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, but I think it's about forgiveness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;-India.Arie "Heart of the Matter"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes you just have a day where everything seems to just turn out right.&lt;br /&gt;even the things that normally upset you just seem right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to work all morning, but it was pretty fun. I spent the entire time either looking up Disney Characters for my hall or playing around with whiteout/mailing welcome packets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove to Chik-fila (in the rain and that's a first!) to see my amazing sister Samantha May who was traveling with her friend Kat on a tour de Georgia (as they so rightfully named it) to numerous Chik-filas dressed as cows for Cow Appreciation Day! They were so cute and as usual it's just great to see my sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd burned her a copy of Onerepublic's new album which is absolutely amazing. She'd burned me a mixed cd (which I'm currently listening to) and she got me a book. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eat, Pray, Love&lt;/span&gt; by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's a phenomenal book. Just reading it made me feel happier. Like I was doing something for me for once...with no hidden agenda. I was just reading it to make myself happier. I think I'll always be grateful to Sam for giving me this book. There was one passage in particular that struck a heavy cord in my heart...but I think I'll end this blog with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive home, Dureyea and I talked about relationships and how crappy I am at them. He told me that I seem to be drawn to guys who won't treat me well...rather than nice guys who would be great for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think every girl does that though. We find ourselves attracted to guys that push us away rather than the ones that are completely fawning over us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I really appreciated that conversation because it put some things into perspective for me. He also made a point that at this age in our life guys aren't necessarily ready for a steady relationship. I mean there's always an exception to that rule, but in general guys are still trying to find themselves whereas girls have pretty much done that by now (we've had so much pressure on us to do so at a young age)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all just made sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got back downtown, I had to work a wedding rehearsal dinner. To be honest, it's quite boring because I just sit at a desk and wait until they're done. I usually just catch up on my reading or listen to music. My original plan was to continue reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wolves of Calla&lt;/span&gt; which is the5th book of Stephen King's Dark Tower Series. It really is an extraordinary series. King has called it his life's work. The problem is while I find the books to be completely fascinating....a big part of the reason I'm reading it is because it gives me something to talk about with him. They're his books. He wanted me to read them, and he gets so excited when I finish one. To be quite honest lately that's all he ever wants to talk to me about (except for that brief moment when we were all engrossed with Coldplay's new album) I think I'm clinging to a "best friend" who's already let me go. These books are the final little finger clinging desperately to his shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop reading them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what happens when the series ends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I took a break. I knew that if I told him I took a break he'd probably get frustrated because he really wants me to finish, but this book (Eat, Pray, Love) is a book I need to read. For me. Only for me. It makes me happier reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to read it. So I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if he doesn't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pitiful, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the night consisted of me hanging out with Jonathan, Lena, and Mike at the Vault/The Tap and then Dylan coming over to help me fight Phantom Ganon and to defeat the Fire Temple (cause I hate anything with those darn Gorons. I always get stuck!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key highlight of my night though...was this one particular passage from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eat, Pray, Love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps. of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore-despite the fact that you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he used to give it to you for free&lt;/span&gt;). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have that thing even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He even looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes." (pgs. 20-21)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[He] was my catnip and my kryptonite."(pg. 23)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the story of my life...or at least my relationship with him summed up in a paragraph and a line. It really is a punch in the face to see how completely pitiful you've been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think once you know you can take steps to put your life back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8765197605727978292?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8765197605727978292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8765197605727978292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8765197605727978292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8765197605727978292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/ive-been-trying-to-get-down-to-heart-of.html' title='I&apos;ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5719077884929728194</id><published>2008-07-10T20:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:49:11.524-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Without love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...life is rock and roll without a drummer.&lt;br /&gt;-Hairspray "Without Love"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is like a garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every friend is a flower. the more you care for it. the more time you invest into it. the larger it grows. the closer you become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's nothing more beautiful than a growing relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;be it with a friend. a lover. Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;it doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;the vulnerability it takes to share your heart with another person is strikingly astounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i find it strange the amount of love that one person can hold for another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is limitless and to me that is the most impressive qualities of humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I suggest we learn to love ourselves before it's made illegal-Brandon Boyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5719077884929728194?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5719077884929728194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5719077884929728194' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5719077884929728194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5719077884929728194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/without-love.html' title='Without love'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-2755299824824734111</id><published>2008-07-09T23:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:49:38.169-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The sea is wine red...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this is the death of beauty.&lt;br /&gt;-The Hush Sound "Wine Red"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the movie American History X today. Let me just say that I am completely and totally in love with Edward Norton. I have yet to see him in a single movie where he was not simply phenomenal. The movie itself was the first movie to make me cry in a LONG time. The message in the movie was just so moving. I don't want to give anything away, because since this blog is public anyone can read it and I'm not one for spoilers, but I will say that it is very in your face so if you can't handle that...well watch it anyway because you'll be missing out on something great if you don't. The movie pretty much takes racism and punches you in the face with it. I think everyone needs a little punch in the face every now and then. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was super busy, but it was really great if only because my friends wrote "I love India" on the sidewalk outside of my window. I look at it constantly and I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture! It's amazing how something that seems so small can make you feel so happy inside. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting homesick....I really really want to go home, just to visit. I don't get a break though until the last week in July, and my parents are certain my car won't make it all the way to Camden. It's frustrating. I just haven't seen home since...I went home for the funeral. And I wouldn't exactly call that a vacation. I think I saw my parents for a total of 3 hours the entire time I was there. I always get homesick when I start to stress out. There's just so much piling on top of me right now. With work, school, and R.A. stuff I feel like it's very rare that I get a moment to myself. I'd like to say that I have spent the entire summer reading one book series. All summer. I still haven't finished. I'm actually just starting the 5th book and there are 2 more left. Hopefully I can finish it before Breaking Dawn comes out or I don't know what I'll do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-2755299824824734111?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/2755299824824734111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=2755299824824734111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2755299824824734111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/2755299824824734111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/sea-is-wine-red.html' title='The sea is wine red...'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-5520859367172267271</id><published>2008-07-08T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:50:15.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>it takes no time to fall in love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but it takes you years to know what love is&lt;br /&gt;-Jason Mraz "Life is Wonderful"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to one of my best friends today and she gave me the greatest advice I've heard in quite sometime.  I've been struggling constantly with this stupid Petrarchan complex (as I like to refer to it) and she pointed out to me that best thing to do would be to reconnect with myself and fall in love with me. It sounds simple right? The problem is I don't know how to fall in love with myself. I like myself just fine...I mean I hang out with me all the time it'd really suck if I hated myself, but I don't know if I'm in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is every time I talk to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;, every time I get a text from him, every time I see a picture of him I can't help but think about how utterly perfect I feel he is for me...and about how I was too stupid/blind to see it before and now it's too late. I'm so consumed with him that I forget about me! I feel like if he asked me to run away with him right now I'd do it in a heartbeat....but I've got so much more going for me right now. I need to finish school. I need to move on to other things. Who knows what's waiting for me outside of this city. I'll never know if I don't let him go, but I don't know how and I don't know if I really want to. I can't talk to another boy without comparing him, and to be quite honest I haven't met a single one that I connect with on the same level. It's just so difficult and I don't want it to be. I want to move on it's just that there's a part of me that's still holding so tightly to the past that the future frightens me for the first time ever! I'm afraid and I don't know what to do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like falling in love with myself will be much harder with that burden hanging on my every move. If I can only get rid of it....I could be truly happy again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-5520859367172267271?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/5520859367172267271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=5520859367172267271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5520859367172267271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/5520859367172267271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/it-takes-no-time-to-fall-in-love.html' title='it takes no time to fall in love...'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uZRuhkN7tu8/TD3dBvT1S5I/AAAAAAAAAMM/7CuAmrZ2Bgg/S220/100_0026.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3977538014743804836.post-8792017263662908167</id><published>2008-07-08T20:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T00:51:01.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>all I need is the air I breath...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and a place to rest my head&lt;br /&gt;-onerepublic "Say (All I Need) "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is supposed to be a vacation, but I swear this summer has been more work than the usual school year! I feel as though I'm constantly running around checking in one group, checking out another, going to class, going to work. It seems like I'll never get a break. I thought that summer would be the time that I could catch up on my reading, hang out with my friends, and just...relax!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully this summer hasn't been a total disaster :) I've gotten to hang out with Summer and Jonathan which really rocks, they're probably two of the most genuine people you'll ever meet. I really don't know what my summer would be like without them. It's weird when I chose to stay in Columbus for the summer I honestly did it because I was afraid to go home. I didn't want to deal with my problems there...I didn't know if I could handle it. I think that's the same reason I left Valdosta too. I just didn't want to deal with the pain that I felt there. Without Phillip home was sad...without Chris...Valdosta was sad. At the time when I made both decisions I convinced myself that it was more than that...that it was God ya know...that he was telling me that I needed to go. I could make a difference in Columbus;  things would only get worse if I went home. At some point I've regretted both decisions, but in the long run something has made me realize that while yeah my life would be different if I hadn't come here or if I had gone home different doesn't necessarily mean &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;better&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep searching for something better when really what I'm searching for could be right in front of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3977538014743804836-8792017263662908167?l=heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/feeds/8792017263662908167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3977538014743804836&amp;postID=8792017263662908167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8792017263662908167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3977538014743804836/posts/default/8792017263662908167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartbeatgravity.blogspot.com/2008/07/all-i-need-is-air-i-breath-and-place-to.html' title='all I need is the air I breath...'/><author><name>India</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16401729846423299863</uri><em
