<?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-5813877</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:09:27.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>drinking sky and sweet black.</title><subtitle type='html'>what am i describing? i am SO confused.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106446238908220051</id><published>2003-09-24T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-24T20:59:49.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its funny. the sickness. the same things repeating. i'm scared. and its out of my control. he repeats the words, but i dont trust. she's doing it again. i see her. the sickness. infecting herself, infecting him, infecting everyone else. i tell myself she's a human. but i tell myself that so is he. no one knows what i'm talking about. maybe i dont know really. i'm scared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106446238908220051?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106446238908220051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106446238908220051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_24_archive.html#106446238908220051' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106438245506776679</id><published>2003-09-23T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-23T22:47:34.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i want to escape in dark blue nights and stars and fresh air. why is this slipping?  scared  to get really depressed again. &lt;br /&gt; stupid stupid words words words words. shut up shut up. let me sit and shake and rock in screaming music. itsnotffairfairfairfairfair. everything good is slipping. happiness doesnt laugh. i meant last. but who cares. the memories cant hold me. the memories are not enough. i try?  i dont want this. i dont want now. i dont want tomorrow. i want silence in my mind. i want sssshhhh blue. I left God. &lt;br /&gt;lights, squares. flash. pulse.&lt;br /&gt;i'm logging off now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106438245506776679?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106438245506776679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106438245506776679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_23_archive.html#106438245506776679' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106437620865848588</id><published>2003-09-23T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-23T21:03:28.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>don't read my eyes tonight,&lt;br /&gt;i look away.&lt;br /&gt;you look away.&lt;br /&gt;am i, are we... &lt;br /&gt;pretending?&lt;br /&gt;no, you're sorry, no please no, you're sorry...no...&lt;br /&gt;i read your eyes tonight.&lt;br /&gt;not sure if you're pretending.&lt;br /&gt;not sure what &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; is.&lt;br /&gt;i float in music.&lt;br /&gt;we write.&lt;br /&gt;we laugh, until&lt;br /&gt;i almost spit out my tea.&lt;br /&gt;i cling to you now.&lt;br /&gt;you live in music.&lt;br /&gt;in stars.&lt;br /&gt;in dust,&lt;br /&gt;our faces.&lt;br /&gt;in vapor, &lt;br /&gt;our laugh.&lt;br /&gt;i prepare to be angry, &lt;br /&gt;i prepare to be sick.&lt;br /&gt;what are you talking  to me  about now?&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;am i? are we?&lt;br /&gt;out of words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106437620865848588?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106437620865848588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106437620865848588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_23_archive.html#106437620865848588' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106429412337931349</id><published>2003-09-22T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-24T20:57:23.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Go deliver a dare, vile dog!&lt;br /&gt;Madam, in Eden I'm Adam.&lt;br /&gt;May a moody baby doom a yam?&lt;br /&gt;Do geese see God?&lt;br /&gt;Murder for a jar of red rum.&lt;br /&gt;Satan, oscillate my metallic sonatas!&lt;br /&gt;Straw? No, too stupid a fad; I put soot on warts.&lt;br /&gt;Dogma: I am God. &lt;br /&gt;Ah, Satan sees Natasha.&lt;br /&gt;Don't nod.&lt;br /&gt;Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?&lt;br /&gt;Doc Note: I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod. &lt;br /&gt;Go hang a salami; I'm a lasagna hog!&lt;br /&gt; No, it never propagates if I set a gap or prevention.&lt;br /&gt; God saw I was a dog.&lt;br /&gt; Too bad - I hid a boot.&lt;br /&gt; Campus Motto: Bottoms up, Mac.&lt;br /&gt; Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak.&lt;br /&gt; No trace; not one carton. &lt;br /&gt;Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo.&lt;br /&gt; Rats live on no evil star.&lt;br /&gt; Was it Eliot's toilet I saw?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106429412337931349?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106429412337931349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106429412337931349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_22_archive.html#106429412337931349' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106429115984947092</id><published>2003-09-22T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-22T21:25:59.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>pardon me while i burst into flames. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you talk to me in&lt;br /&gt;the silence between steady&lt;br /&gt;rythmatic voices.&lt;br /&gt;rising and falling,&lt;br /&gt;leveled music repeating.&lt;br /&gt;i forget to hear.&lt;br /&gt;i don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there some tape they play&lt;br /&gt;throughout the day&lt;br /&gt;of their rythmatic voices&lt;br /&gt;rising and falling in evenely spaced&lt;br /&gt;intervals?&lt;br /&gt;Can you hear it too?&lt;br /&gt;It becomes my silence.&lt;br /&gt;What is silence?&lt;br /&gt;i've forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;I am silenced.&lt;br /&gt;i am wordless.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;drifting slowly&lt;br /&gt;   away...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106429115984947092?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106429115984947092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106429115984947092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_22_archive.html#106429115984947092' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106392864440557329</id><published>2003-09-18T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-18T16:44:04.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm full. i'm empty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106392864440557329?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106392864440557329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106392864440557329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_18_archive.html#106392864440557329' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106392862346039739</id><published>2003-09-18T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-18T16:43:43.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it aches inside. a lot, to see her there. watching hills and sky pass her by.  and i want to ask her whats she's thinking.  and i want to prove i'm not really as selfish as i've been.  &lt;br /&gt;but i can't.&lt;br /&gt;so i wait...wait for what? &lt;br /&gt;wait for change?&lt;br /&gt;should have listened to myself.  &lt;br /&gt;(or is that just listening to everyone else?)&lt;br /&gt;i watch her from the corner of my eye.&lt;br /&gt;she sits, alone...&lt;br /&gt;watching hills and sky,&lt;br /&gt;like we used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106392862346039739?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106392862346039739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106392862346039739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_18_archive.html#106392862346039739' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106385647297492820</id><published>2003-09-17T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-17T20:41:12.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i want to lie in crushed leaves and flower petals. i want to dance on water and steal the light reflected off the water from the moon...and put it in a necklace. and then i'd wear it to school and i'd be okay because whenever i was unhappy, i could get lost in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I like my girlfriend fine,&lt;br /&gt;i like her hair and clothes,&lt;br /&gt;but i don't like the worms&lt;br /&gt;crawlin' outa her nose.&lt;br /&gt;zombie girlfriend...whoa-oh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what the heck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is wrong with the world!?!?!?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106385647297492820?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106385647297492820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106385647297492820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_17_archive.html#106385647297492820' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106378088667529283</id><published>2003-09-16T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-16T23:41:26.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i want to take each time he says it, wrap it around myself and be blinded from everything else. i want to lie in it and breath in it. i want to hold it and keep it forever. i want it to be true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106378088667529283?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106378088667529283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106378088667529283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_16_archive.html#106378088667529283' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106378078044358267</id><published>2003-09-16T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-16T23:39:40.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its 11:21. shoot. i didn't even start homework yet. I'm drinking tea. kim, spike, and I went to starbucks and target earlier. caffeine, baby. oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sick of people. school. people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one day i'll fly over it all. fly over it and none of it will touch me. watch it from above and from a distance. i'll escape from society and expectations. from politics and things that don't make sense to me. from rules and limits. from stereotypes and labels. from structures and intimidation. from everything. i wish i could. i don't understand it. &lt;br /&gt;i don't want it to shape me. i don't want to join its club.&lt;br /&gt;do i have a choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106378078044358267?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106378078044358267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106378078044358267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_16_archive.html#106378078044358267' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106369072075717477</id><published>2003-09-15T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-15T22:46:36.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feed him blue lies&lt;br /&gt;fake for him- is he happy?&lt;br /&gt; feels so real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106369072075717477?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106369072075717477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106369072075717477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_15_archive.html#106369072075717477' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106368665555858111</id><published>2003-09-15T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-15T21:38:51.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>right..i'm back...&lt;br /&gt;when i walk up the grey steps, i wonder if i look stupid going up the stairs, and if i should skip a step or step on each one, and i make sure to move out of the way of the scary people on the sides, or coming down. math is dumb. brain breaks. shoot math. shoot me. moopy.&lt;br /&gt;break: cold cement. wind. hair. bodies. laugh. groups. people. dancing. teachers. break. yup.&lt;br /&gt;english. blahblahblah. i give up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106368665555858111?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106368665555858111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106368665555858111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_15_archive.html#106368665555858111' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106366819770411984</id><published>2003-09-15T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-15T16:31:10.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>its monday monday monday.  i'm resting my chin on my knee and my foots falling asleep.  swaying to, modest mouse? this is what it feels like inside my head. this song. right now. so long to this cold cold part of the world....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;air-tapping fingers&lt;br /&gt;hover over orange art&lt;br /&gt;waves, and flows, the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to get to school early, and sit around the corner from history class. i sit on this part of a wall and it looks out beyond the prison, okay well, school.  headphones and my journal. Sometimes someone else sits there and so i sit farther down on the ground.  sometimes i read. or sketch.&lt;br /&gt;the door just slammed.&lt;br /&gt;maybe i try too hard. after history, i walk across the quad. today the wind was blowing at my hair and my flannel shirt and i was cold. i looked around to see if certain people were around me. slick. when i walk up the grey steps...i'd finish this, but i am needed elsewhere. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106366819770411984?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106366819770411984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106366819770411984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_15_archive.html#106366819770411984' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106359859644425816</id><published>2003-09-14T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-14T21:03:16.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>what is this now?&lt;br /&gt;beautifully hidden ugly insides,&lt;br /&gt;but i can see it in you&lt;br /&gt;see it in you...&lt;br /&gt;you should have buried it deeper in&lt;br /&gt;the sand of your smooth skin.&lt;br /&gt;the waters always hitting you?&lt;br /&gt;no.&lt;br /&gt;no. you say you know me.&lt;br /&gt;no. you say you know how i feel.&lt;br /&gt;but you don't.&lt;br /&gt;   couldn't possibly.&lt;br /&gt;i am not your friend.&lt;br /&gt;you hate me...then?&lt;br /&gt;befriend me in my state of pity.&lt;br /&gt;pity me and why?&lt;br /&gt; am i smaller than you then?&lt;br /&gt;crush me in your hands.&lt;br /&gt;i am not your firend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106359859644425816?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106359859644425816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106359859644425816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_14_archive.html#106359859644425816' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813877.post-106359327244002146</id><published>2003-09-14T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-09-14T19:39:15.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>this is my first blog? oops, not a question. not a question at all. I am dia. actually, thats just my initials. i'm 16. and i am not a moose. &lt;br /&gt;i like to read. i like art and photography..&lt;br /&gt;and i hate the way this is all sounding. especially the moose part, but i can't bring myself to erase it. i mean, its true: i'm not a moose. you might have thought i was.&lt;br /&gt;i like music. i try to play guitar, but i can't when someones listening. i like night. rain and grey days. trees that hover over the sky in an arc over the streets. i like orange leaves falling. the sky. the water. austria.&lt;br /&gt;i like to write.  i don't like these complete sentenses. they're not me.&lt;br /&gt;i don't like directly saying anything about myself. i give up. figure out who i am from future posts. this is frustrating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5813877-106359327244002146?l=diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106359327244002146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5813877/posts/default/106359327244002146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaisgreytonight.blogspot.com/2003_09_14_archive.html#106359327244002146' title=''/><author><name>dia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00192475907327675065</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
