<?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-3498476684353831681</id><updated>2012-02-14T12:29:42.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Transcendent Zephyr</title><subtitle type='html'>A Transcendent Zephyr: a gentle breeze that goes beyond ordinary limits. This is me; this is my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>51</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-8305400588906496605</id><published>2012-02-14T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T12:29:42.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just think of all that life could be if we could only capture what we see.</title><content type='html'>Love not just on one day but every day. Do so unconditionally and your life will never be lacking in love. Why is this concept so difficult? Why do we fight it so violently? What are we scared of?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-8305400588906496605?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/8305400588906496605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/just-think-of-all-that-life-could-be-if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8305400588906496605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8305400588906496605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/just-think-of-all-that-life-could-be-if.html' title='Just think of all that life could be if we could only capture what we see.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2475149697352680551</id><published>2012-02-13T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T22:41:44.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I will learn to live again for now I'm breaking; all the things I couldn't mend without escaping.</title><content type='html'>Fatigue doesn't begin to describe what I feel right now. It's hard to find sleep though when I don't want to find what comes with it. I guess I will just have push on through and hope that what is on the other side is not what has been there for the past few days. Here's to the hope of a new adventure without ever leaving the bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-2475149697352680551?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2475149697352680551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-will-learn-to-live-again-for-now-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2475149697352680551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2475149697352680551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-will-learn-to-live-again-for-now-im.html' title='I will learn to live again for now I&apos;m breaking; all the things I couldn&apos;t mend without escaping.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2403949459202950063</id><published>2012-02-12T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T22:28:55.152-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have never been so consumed and I have never loved it more to be devoted to letting all see what it is to live in the love of others.</title><content type='html'>At times I remember your face and I find myself under storm clouds as they form. The rain falls and I raise my face to the heavens as if trying to talk to you. The words won't leave my lips but I pretend you can hear them anyway. I miss your kind smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to words that you have heard over and over again as there is a reason they are often said. Never waste a day you could spend loving on anything but love. Never take for granted the moments we have with others as you will come to learn how fleeting life really can be. Wish on every shooting star. Ride every single wave. Fly with the wind. Smile in the sun. Dance in the rain. Love always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-2403949459202950063?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2403949459202950063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-have-never-been-so-consumed-and-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2403949459202950063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2403949459202950063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-have-never-been-so-consumed-and-i.html' title='I have never been so consumed and I have never loved it more to be devoted to letting all see what it is to live in the love of others.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7133006119451377536</id><published>2012-02-11T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T23:35:54.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you hear it? The sea is calling 'cause these hands were meant to retrieve the net. My breath grows tighter and tighter when I think of you.</title><content type='html'>Oh how these bones ache. It could be the changing weather, exhaustion, stress, or any number of things. However, no matter the cause the feeling remains. The same applies in other aspects of life. The situations that we experience are unique to us, but emotions and feelings are universal. The cause of the worst pain one has felt could be completely different from the cause of the worst pain of another, while the fact remains that it is still the worst pain that either have felt. While we continue to try and separate each other via trivialities and the differences in our lives we ignore the similarities that could ultimately bring us closer together; our own humanity. One day we will see this and act on it. One day we will realize the beauty of love. One day we will be truly human.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7133006119451377536?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7133006119451377536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-hear-it-sea-is-calling-cause.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7133006119451377536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7133006119451377536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-hear-it-sea-is-calling-cause.html' title='Do you hear it? The sea is calling &apos;cause these hands were meant to retrieve the net. My breath grows tighter and tighter when I think of you.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7532548756415757699</id><published>2012-02-10T09:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T15:15:28.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'll hide from the world behind a broken frame, and I'll burn forever. I can't face the shame.</title><content type='html'>Where did this feeling come from? I swear I had risen high above it. Who is the fucking double agent that let the terrorist through to reap havoc in this land? Grab your pitchforks and go on a witch hunt because we are going to find this fucker and when we do he is going to burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now we wage war and attempt to conquer the enemy from the inside out. That which surrounds you is far less powerful a foe than that which plants its seed within you. Do not lose yourself today for tomorrow when you overcome it all you will find the struggle to hold yourself close to be well worth the pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are war geniuses. Let's show the power we hold inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7532548756415757699?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7532548756415757699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/note-on-missing-posts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7532548756415757699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7532548756415757699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/note-on-missing-posts.html' title='And I&apos;ll hide from the world behind a broken frame, and I&apos;ll burn forever. I can&apos;t face the shame.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2566249509125291204</id><published>2012-02-09T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T01:07:03.849-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moon glow, white light will bathe your pillow. Loneliness leaves no shadow. Where did you go? Be cool now. Quietly up and leave you. Must I bee your fool and lead you? How gracious we go.</title><content type='html'>These visions of night are unwelcome in this blessed temple. Be gone ye demons of the heart. You have no need to be in these sacred grounds. Leave or you shall be removed by force. I will not tolerate you to poison this realm once more. This time I will protect it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-2566249509125291204?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2566249509125291204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/moon-glow-white-light-will-bathe-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2566249509125291204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2566249509125291204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/moon-glow-white-light-will-bathe-your.html' title='Moon glow, white light will bathe your pillow. Loneliness leaves no shadow. Where did you go? Be cool now. Quietly up and leave you. Must I bee your fool and lead you? How gracious we go.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5250169261525676075</id><published>2012-02-08T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T01:03:59.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me of the earth. Tell me of your secrecy passed down through the ages.</title><content type='html'>There are things that we keep hidden within ourselves. There are many reasons we do so such as fear, shame, regret, etc., but sometimes we become blessed enough in life to come across a person with whom we are able to open up the gates that protect our secrets. Sometimes we come across people who provide that safety of knowing that you can tell them the worst of yourself and still love you even if you find it hard to love yourself when facing it. It is terrifying. The level of vulnerability we feel is sometimes overwhelming to the point that you want to sabotage that bond or run from it. When you know that a person can truly see into your heart unexpected fear becomes us as we are faced with the "loss" of safety. In reality we have gained safety, but because bonds like this happen so rarely we reflect the fear of the unknown upon the image of safety and proceed to act in a way we convince ourselves is to protect us. I cannot stress this enough; do not abandon that bond. Hold it close to your heart because there will be times that you need that and even the closest of friends or family cannot understand the feeling in your heart like the one who could see beyond its walls. It's okay to be afraid, but don't let that fear remove such a beautiful rarity in life. I promise you this: if you do so one day you will regret it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5250169261525676075?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5250169261525676075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/tell-me-of-earth-tell-me-of-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5250169261525676075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5250169261525676075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/tell-me-of-earth-tell-me-of-your.html' title='Tell me of the earth. Tell me of your secrecy passed down through the ages.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7757066359397013397</id><published>2012-02-07T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T13:12:59.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My face to the heavens I waited for a sign, But only cloudy demons were circling in the sky.</title><content type='html'>As the years go by I begin to realize my own mortality. When I was young I knew that one day I as well as everyone in my life will die, but that day would not come for quite some time. But now forever doesn't seem so far away. I am becoming more and more convinced that when my time comes I will not be ready for it because I will accept death, but that I will only not want to live anymore when living means feeling the tragedy of loss and that death is only the real escape from that pain. Don't get me wrong. I am in no hurry to get there and will not take myself to that land seeing as I still fear it. I only make that prediction based on the fact that it has never gotten any easier and at times has only hurt more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now as I face the possibility of loss once more I have to accept that the one I am about to lose is among the dearest in my life. Together we lived and loved. We taught each other lessons and kept each other safe when there was no one else. I don't want you to go, but I can't stand to see you in pain and that makes this so hard no matter what. Last time I saw you I thanked you for keeping me alive all these years. I hope that if your time is truly near that the years until I see you next will come as quickly as the time we shared has passed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you leave me now will you please just watch over me and protect me when I need you like you used to? Please continue to help me clean my wounds and show me that I am not alone in this world. Please continue walk by my side as I face my fears and realize my own strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will always be the hardest battle to fight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7757066359397013397?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7757066359397013397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-face-to-heavens-i-waited-for-sign.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7757066359397013397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7757066359397013397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-face-to-heavens-i-waited-for-sign.html' title='My face to the heavens I waited for a sign, But only cloudy demons were circling in the sky.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2165196037355562201</id><published>2012-02-06T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T08:41:27.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This feeling has gone too far and killed two birds with one stone; a terrible love song. You sang it so sweet.</title><content type='html'>Holy....words escape me now as I try to describe the tidal wave that threatens to devastate my entire being at this very moment. How do I persevere when it hits? I already feel the water receding in preparation for the wall of water that is about to charge directly at me like the Persian army riding into battle on the backs of war elephants. Please let me get through this moment into the next. Please allow that moment to lead into the one that follows. Help me find safe haven for this heart as its wounds are freshly cauterized and bound to burst open like a 2-liter bottle of Diet Coke with a Mentos dropped inside and recapped if I cannot find walls with which to use to protect it in its vulnerable state. Oh God, won't anybody hear my plea for help?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-2165196037355562201?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2165196037355562201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/this-feeling-has-gone-too-far-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2165196037355562201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2165196037355562201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/this-feeling-has-gone-too-far-and.html' title='This feeling has gone too far and killed two birds with one stone; a terrible love song. You sang it so sweet.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-3299292500887393137</id><published>2012-02-05T21:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T08:27:00.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You trade a taste like currency, so blinded by lying here awake at night.</title><content type='html'>We're losing out on this rare chance to be human. This is our time to shine and yet we hide in the shade. What is it that we look for under the boughs and the leaves? It seems that what we find are neither what we want nor what we need. The search for a place to be is a futile search indeed. To be requires no search. Its only requirement is being. Be mindful of that which you discard when you involve yourself in emotional capitalism. You may find that the apple you received for your wheat depreciates in value far quicker than you anticipated and that there is in fact a scarcity of wheat in these lands leaving the value of your original product to be worth much more than that apple to begin with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-3299292500887393137?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/3299292500887393137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/you-trade-taste-like-currency-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3299292500887393137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3299292500887393137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/you-trade-taste-like-currency-so.html' title='You trade a taste like currency, so blinded by lying here awake at night.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5243903982801714485</id><published>2012-02-04T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T08:20:26.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're brought back but you're running. I'll find sleep in the end tonight. I can't shake this little feeling. I'll never get anything right.</title><content type='html'>Oh dear dreams, please stay where you belong. This world is not welcoming to your presence. I beg you, don't invade this place. You must remain in sleep, for if you were to become reality I would ensure your death without hesitation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5243903982801714485?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5243903982801714485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/youre-brought-back-but-youre-running.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5243903982801714485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5243903982801714485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/youre-brought-back-but-youre-running.html' title='You&apos;re brought back but you&apos;re running. I&apos;ll find sleep in the end tonight. I can&apos;t shake this little feeling. I&apos;ll never get anything right.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5476336093523240321</id><published>2012-02-03T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T12:37:32.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I stepped I left and I don't regret leaving and I'll never forget all the things I saw that evening; a glimpse of religion a piece of coming closer to understanding more about what intrigues me most. I didn't get turned on I just got turned. I wasn't as aroused as I was concerned for each one of 'em I've hurt and every time I've been burned. I've got a lot to teach but even more to learn. So now I keep my eyes open hoping to take in all I can.</title><content type='html'>I've been granted a glimpse into the present by a messenger from the past and search for an application to the future; the entry who stands tall in the shadow of its title.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5476336093523240321?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5476336093523240321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-stepped-i-left-and-i-dont-regret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5476336093523240321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5476336093523240321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-stepped-i-left-and-i-dont-regret.html' title='I stepped I left and I don&apos;t regret leaving and I&apos;ll never forget all the things I saw that evening; a glimpse of religion a piece of coming closer to understanding more about what intrigues me most. I didn&apos;t get turned on I just got turned. I wasn&apos;t as aroused as I was concerned for each one of &apos;em I&apos;ve hurt and every time I&apos;ve been burned. I&apos;ve got a lot to teach but even more to learn. So now I keep my eyes open hoping to take in all I can.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1905575224083152031</id><published>2012-02-02T08:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T12:28:35.757-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In this coma, sleepless dancing, we've been treading air.</title><content type='html'>You've been dancing through my mind like cherry blossoms in the warm summer wind. I've found myself in caught in a universe where time does not exist. My feet, barely floating above the ground, move on their own accord. The sun hangs high in a cloudless sky without movement as if hypnotized and waiting for instruction. I find my reflection in a mirror of water whose surface is so still one would think they could walk on it only to discover that my eyes are closed. I see myself blinded by my own doing with the cure in my own hands but unable to administer the treatment to grant sight. Why won't they open? What are they waiting to see?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1905575224083152031?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1905575224083152031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-this-coma-sleepless-dancing-weve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1905575224083152031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1905575224083152031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-this-coma-sleepless-dancing-weve.html' title='In this coma, sleepless dancing, we&apos;ve been treading air.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-3834121757658520627</id><published>2012-02-01T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T11:48:22.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll strike a match and burn away every tie that binds me to this place.</title><content type='html'>Waves of fuchsia flow before my eyes; coincidentally fitting seeing as fusion is the catalyst to such a vision. This pale surface is deceivingly white for it is not devoid of life merely masked by concepts of death. It's existence is itself a contradiction for what is existence but a concept created by consciousness with which the thinker is burdened. Swiftly drifting side to side almost eerily were it not for its pure grace the boundaries between these planes remain just barely out of sight. I shall take this place into my hands and light the flames that will consume it until there is nothing left to remember it by except smoldering ash and the remnants that will forever stay within the mind. I will take myself by the hair and drag my body to the land of cerulean where it may awaken under the warmth of the stars. Trickle into the earth and release a breath of new life only to close your eyes and drift the another dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lessons that teach us to just be yet we still search for meanings in obscurity. Though truth can be found buried deep within to find the end you must know where to begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-3834121757658520627?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/3834121757658520627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/ill-strike-match-and-burn-away-every.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3834121757658520627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3834121757658520627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/02/ill-strike-match-and-burn-away-every.html' title='I&apos;ll strike a match and burn away every tie that binds me to this place.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-778841482948419552</id><published>2012-01-31T03:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T03:48:43.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I will learn to live again for now I'm breaking all the things I couldn't mend without escaping. I will learn to love again. I will learn to love. I will learn.</title><content type='html'>Now I am moving forward. This road may be the one that leads me to salvation. I feel relatively sad as I have grown attached to the things I left behind, but remain hopeful for the future. On this journey called "Life" I leave a trail of piece of my heart that break off at every stop. I will miss it, but it was yours to keep the moment I gave it to you. Don't worry though as I have a big heart with a lot more to spare and share. The wound will mend and the scar will fade and in the end I will be okay. One day we'll see the meaning in it all, but today let's just worry about moving forward one step at a time. Look around. The world is a big place in an infinitely larger place. This journey has only just begun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;行きましょうか?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-778841482948419552?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/778841482948419552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-will-learn-to-live-again-for-now-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/778841482948419552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/778841482948419552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-will-learn-to-live-again-for-now-im.html' title='I will learn to live again for now I&apos;m breaking all the things I couldn&apos;t mend without escaping. I will learn to love again. I will learn to love. I will learn.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5489548579514338002</id><published>2012-01-30T02:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T03:02:45.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So you can't hold a star in your hand though at least you can hold on to another plan.</title><content type='html'>Delay this frozen scene of haunting memories&lt;br /&gt;Tell tales from the past finding out that nothing lasts&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I wish to be alone in moments not condoned&lt;br /&gt;Alas I find the strength for some sense of sanity to maintain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I find that which I need most to be what I desire most as well. It isn't often that things turn out that way so when it happens I revel in my awesomeness. But it all comes crashing down soon thereafter. The sick joke that life likes to play on me is that when what I need most is what I desire most it will be just beyond my reach. Try as I might I just cannot extend my arm any further. It teases me as I can feel it graze my quivering finger-tips. When I don't want something but know I need it I find it to be readily available in overabundance. Likewise when I desire something I really don't need (and often shouldn't have) I seem to be surrounded by sources from which to choose. Sometimes I give up and because now I don't desire it I find it just within reach, while the things I haven't given up on yet still elude me. It's funny how that works.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5489548579514338002?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5489548579514338002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-you-cant-hold-star-in-your-hand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5489548579514338002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5489548579514338002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-you-cant-hold-star-in-your-hand.html' title='So you can&apos;t hold a star in your hand though at least you can hold on to another plan.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5465931855250440599</id><published>2012-01-29T01:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T05:28:26.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You grow, you roar. Although disguised I know you.</title><content type='html'>This melody runs through my head like a creek in a forest sparkling from the sunlight that passes through the bright green canopy above. The chords are like a gentle touch to the arm when times feel the loneliest and resonates within this shell bringing back the life that was thought to have long since vacated. I close my eyes. Where am I? It feels so warm and familiar yet I don't recall ever being here before. As I let out a heavy sigh that releases burdens held onto for far too long the music fades. When I open my eyes again I am in the same reality that existed before my journey into nature, but I see that I have returned and left some of the belongings that were in my day-pack behind. That's okay because I didn't need them anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5465931855250440599?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5465931855250440599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-grow-you-roar-although-disguised-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5465931855250440599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5465931855250440599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-grow-you-roar-although-disguised-i.html' title='You grow, you roar. Although disguised I know you.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-8162436025544037771</id><published>2012-01-28T05:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T05:00:59.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a big big way I am really small. I get off my feet but I'm still distant.</title><content type='html'>Don't worry your beautiful heart, youth. It's okay to not be the hero sometimes. You don't always have to be that knight in shining armor. Maybe the most heroic thing you could do is let yourself rest. It does no good to get a wonderful person such as yourself killed. Be human; it will save your life and allow you to save the lives of others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-8162436025544037771?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/8162436025544037771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-big-big-way-i-am-really-small-i-get.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8162436025544037771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8162436025544037771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-big-big-way-i-am-really-small-i-get.html' title='In a big big way I am really small. I get off my feet but I&apos;m still distant.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1700226142888229632</id><published>2012-01-27T04:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T04:02:24.367-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And now you run for these empty lights, these empty waves to fall away.</title><content type='html'>There's a fever in my bones and my compress won't cool it from the outside in. It's not letting me do the things a human needs to do. I feel myself running in circles looking for something. I don't know what it is yet, but god damn it, I am searching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay guys, who is not contributing to the pot? More is being taken out than is being put in. You know these lakes will run dry if we keep this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My standards are too high. I want too much. It's not realistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck that, yes it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of sorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Obviously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1700226142888229632?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1700226142888229632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-now-you-run-for-these-empty-lights.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1700226142888229632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1700226142888229632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-now-you-run-for-these-empty-lights.html' title='And now you run for these empty lights, these empty waves to fall away.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-3136044560166583788</id><published>2012-01-26T15:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T15:29:10.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There are those among us who all find themselves distorted by choice.</title><content type='html'>One day I will be able to shed the weight that burdens my heart and once again stand tall. My head will rise beyond the clouds and I will feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I had wished to share that view with you. I had hoped that together we would conquer the land and take the kingdom of the sky. I had dreamed of a day that we would be side by side sharing the weight of the world and walking hand in hand along the edges of the sky. For now I remain a captive of myself; unable to break the chains that fetter me to this lonely place. Unable to find sleep, I am left with only memory to search for your warmth once more. There was once a time when I was searching for the final colors to finish a beautiful work of art and was lucky enough to have a muse of unrivaled beauty. I had found the colors I had been searching for. "Because everything I said and did and felt for you was true." These words echoed of the future that had yet to come. As future becomes the present I now find myself searching desperately for the words so powerful that once again they break the barrier of time. Ever so vigilant I am listening for even the slightest whisper of an echo from the future, but I hear nothing. Yes, this lonely silence that rings through my head is real. The cold from the shackles that keep me here is also real. The weight of my heart really does exceed the rest of my being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will be able to shed the wishes, hopes, and dreams that burden my heart and once again stand tall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-3136044560166583788?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/3136044560166583788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/there-are-those-among-us-who-all-find.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3136044560166583788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3136044560166583788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/there-are-those-among-us-who-all-find.html' title='There are those among us who all find themselves distorted by choice.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1463677274987260576</id><published>2012-01-25T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T01:57:15.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a vision, it's to bear. It's to realize there's a meaning in the burden. Put commitment in the time that's been gifted to you. Ban the languished unconsciousness. Grant the knowledge - it's for them. It's for everyone.</title><content type='html'>The other day I was asked whether I would prefer to be intelligent and knowledgeable or have a slower mental processing speed and a certain level of ignorance. I remained quiet though I knew my answer already. This is something that I have been thinking about for quite some time. I have been the object of envy and admiration for the beauty some see in a mind like mine. In their shoes I might feel the same way. However, I walk every day in my shoes and thus know every overly worn-in point of their weakened soles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is I envy the mind that is not burdened with the curse of thought. I envy those who live in ignorance as I know the double-edged sword of intelligence all too well. Many times has its blade sliced deep into my spirit. The pain from its wounds often keep me from sleep. Sure possessing such a weapon also allows one to possess the potential for greatness, but at what cost? Is inner peace what I lose for having acquired such a powerful tool? If so I would gladly return it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think that ignorance is bliss, but I do not know as I have never been one to allow myself to remain ignorant. What I do know is that this - what I have going on inside myself - is so far from anything resembling bliss, and that once I arrived here the gates closed behind my back like a jail cell door with an ominous crash. Maybe within these confines I will find a missing puzzle piece that will soothe the raging beast inside. One could only hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1463677274987260576?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1463677274987260576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/theres-vision-its-to-bear-its-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1463677274987260576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1463677274987260576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/theres-vision-its-to-bear-its-to.html' title='There&apos;s a vision, it&apos;s to bear. It&apos;s to realize there&apos;s a meaning in the burden. Put commitment in the time that&apos;s been gifted to you. Ban the languished unconsciousness. Grant the knowledge - it&apos;s for them. It&apos;s for everyone.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1736940862704653409</id><published>2012-01-24T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T00:00:13.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't wait to understand the reason, I have yet to translate, any meaning besides it's not worth it to try, get out.</title><content type='html'>Flames surround the hole in my chest and find no heart to set fire, still no sleep is found in these cold sheets how I tire, of this cycle I run in my head a marathon race, and all thats left of you now is what you've taken and never replaced, it's an awful taste, it can't be erased, and now I'm even left without sleep, that cold look on your face, there's not a single trace, of the beauty I knew when I looked at you and you looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question - how do you feel knowing you've turned into everything you hate? Question - how does it feel to look in the mirror and know everything you looked at with disgust and called traits of a horrible person is you today? Are you having fun yet, baby? Just wait 'til the fun wears off. Are you having fun yet, baby? Just wait 'til you see the life that you lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got me for now, but when I figure out how to overcome this beast and reclaim my heart I'm going to be an unstoppable force. And you will no longer have power over me, for I will one day realize my own strength without you and how I deserve so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch me rise. Get left behind. There's no room in this life for people like you. You are so far from having any value.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1736940862704653409?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1736940862704653409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-cant-wait-to-understand-reason-i-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1736940862704653409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1736940862704653409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-cant-wait-to-understand-reason-i-have.html' title='I can&apos;t wait to understand the reason, I have yet to translate, any meaning besides it&apos;s not worth it to try, get out.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-4922720882575919820</id><published>2012-01-23T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T00:33:56.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're going nowhere fast. We're going nowhere fast. We're going nowhere fast. We're going nowhere fast. Yeah. Yeah.</title><content type='html'>Oh here it goes again; the curse of an overactive mind. Why must you ask questions to which you will never find answers? Certainly it must feel better to be able to find a solution rather than create more problems. Is my subconscious really this much of a masochist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my mind wanders into the unknown I am rarely capable of finding comfort in company as it tends to enjoy doing so in the most silent and lonely of nights. It seems almost anti-instinctual as surely these thoughts will only hasten the aging process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard plenty of people say that they wouldn't want to live forever. Does that make me alone in the desire to be otherwise? I can't be alone. What is so wrong with giving and receiving love for eternity? Is it really that bad to watch the world around us grow as we learn more and more? Maybe if I were to live forever I would be able to find the cure to the human condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I am lost within this mind thinking about things that I cannot define. I am unable to stop and thus I am unable to sleep. As a result of my inability to sleep I am unable to stop my mind. It's a vicious cycle of existential crisis. What I wouldn't give just to feel that comforting warmth at my side. Imaginary arms just don't seem to hold me as tight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-4922720882575919820?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/4922720882575919820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/see-through-wreckage-into-fire-inside.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/4922720882575919820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/4922720882575919820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/see-through-wreckage-into-fire-inside.html' title='We&apos;re going nowhere fast. We&apos;re going nowhere fast. We&apos;re going nowhere fast. We&apos;re going nowhere fast. Yeah. Yeah.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-4663268986667821942</id><published>2012-01-22T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T23:46:16.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sad that you'll be gold upon gold in my veins.</title><content type='html'>The Oxford English Dictionary says there are over 600,000 words in the English language while the Global Language Monitor says there are over 1,022,000 words. With a seemingly infinite number of combinations at my fingertips to describe any given idea, feeling, situation, etc. why am I still unable to put into words the way I feel inside? As I read my entries over and over again I find them to lack the intensity which I am trying to illustrate. This ruffles my fucking feathers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to place more value on certain words I try to use them much more sparingly. In doing so I hope to convey the intensity of the actual feeling or though, but I fail. I almost never use the word "hate," yet when that single syllable leaves my mouth I see my intended recipient look at me with eyes that seem to be observing a child telling his mother that he hates her because she won't buy him a toy. Likewise I tend to be much more parsimonious with my use of the word "love" and limit it's use to fewer people in an attempt to proliferate its meaning. Yet when I speak those words I receive a return of eyes filled with doubt and a reciprocal statement without a reciprocal intensity. This also ruffles my fucking feathers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end of every given situation I come out feeling more empty with only questions of "why?" and "what if?" left to fill that space. These questions are heavy on my heart and with my feathers all out of sorts how could I ever expect to fly once again? I feel like the love child of a Dodo bird and Helen Keller; locked in a cube where I look but cannot see, listen but cannot hear, scream but cannot make a sound, try to fly but cannot leave the ground, and am left in this loneliness waiting merely for my extinction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I sound pathetic. I assure you that in spite of my nihilism I have much more worth and potential. I swear I am somehow managing to climb to the top. The only difficulty conveying that is finding one of the seemingly infinite combinations of the over 600,000 (or 1,022,000 depending on your outlook) words in the English language that could possibly describe the entirety of my thoughts and feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me search through all these fucking molted and ruffled feathers. Maybe I will find it somewhere in there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-4663268986667821942?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/4663268986667821942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-sad-that-youll-be-gold-upon-gold-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/4663268986667821942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/4663268986667821942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-sad-that-youll-be-gold-upon-gold-in.html' title='I&apos;m sad that you&apos;ll be gold upon gold in my veins.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5184722781070437919</id><published>2012-01-21T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T00:00:06.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to see the fire ignite, suffocating the sky.</title><content type='html'>It's high tide. The shores of the self are lacking in a beach to walk on. The weapon of the Greeks spreads quickly along the surface and once connected I become&amp;nbsp;inextinguishable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run as fast as you can. Quickly get away. Don't let it catch you. If it gets too deep to run then swim for you life. The water may be frigid and the fire may seem like solace from the cold but I assure it is not. There is no comfort in walls of flame. Remember it is love and not hatred that you allow to rule this land.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5184722781070437919?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5184722781070437919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-want-to-see-fire-ignite-suffocating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5184722781070437919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5184722781070437919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-want-to-see-fire-ignite-suffocating.html' title='I want to see the fire ignite, suffocating the sky.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7764037526159771176</id><published>2012-01-20T01:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T01:38:23.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black on the ground, I am still as a stone. Whatever changed my love to despair? Light through the clouds trapped the scent of a soul. In a moment, my love, I am captured.</title><content type='html'>Like a ghost my memories haunt me; more ethereal than spectral. I let myself drift into a world that now only exists in my mind. There I find that warmth once more. I leave this world in which I exist for the one I have created. Though I am only allowed to be an unseen visitor observing like an omnipresent god of this realm I can live vicariously through the me I watch. As he smiles I too smile. My body sheds a tear as it yearns for this world to be real, but for now the mind and soul are too far from the heart to feel its weakened beat. They will linger in this world for as long as they can for they know reality will always be there and this world will eventually fade like the stars come the break of dawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7764037526159771176?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7764037526159771176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/black-on-ground-i-am-still-as-stone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7764037526159771176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7764037526159771176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/black-on-ground-i-am-still-as-stone.html' title='Black on the ground, I am still as a stone. Whatever changed my love to despair? Light through the clouds trapped the scent of a soul. In a moment, my love, I am captured.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6122157025570719765</id><published>2012-01-19T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T01:08:58.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>These bones are temporary, let go of all you know. The destination lies ahead and we are not alone.</title><content type='html'>In the silence of night when most hearts rest I feel alone. But when I close my eyes and slow my thinking I can realize that I am never alone even if I am by myself. Soon the silence becomes a little less loud and where my breathing once felt forced it now feels almost natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is in these moments where one must be grateful for the silent heart. It may not be peace in it's most ideal form, but it is definitely a nice change of pace from the tumult. Clasping my hands together I read the words I decided to always remember. "This Too Shall Pass," I repeat over and over in my head like a mantra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-6122157025570719765?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6122157025570719765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/these-bones-are-temporary-let-go-of-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6122157025570719765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6122157025570719765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/these-bones-are-temporary-let-go-of-all.html' title='These bones are temporary, let go of all you know. The destination lies ahead and we are not alone.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-382822269229568019</id><published>2012-01-18T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T20:26:13.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So which of the standard lines will we use?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I sit here and wonder about things that have no business finding their way into my mind. I've been told the importance of hardening my heart, but the concept escapes me. I do know that the world comes at those with soft and open hearts mercilessly. Believe me...I really fucking know. I have felt the terror of a broken heart enough times to have closed it away for good long ago, but my loving and resilient nature will not allow my hands to lock that gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I envy those who can choose not to feel. Sometimes I envy those who can let go of their true beauty and replace it with a platitudinous shell bearing no&amp;nbsp;resemblance&amp;nbsp;to the true self within. I wish I could do that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say that I don't because I am much stronger than that. But if I am so strong why do I feel so weak every time I fail to hide that motherfucker deep inside where no one will ever find it? Why do I feel so weak every time I forgive? Why do I feel so weak when I remember? How can that be strength? It doesn't feel like strength to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels almost masochistic the way I yearn for that which I know will only hurt me further. I like to say it is my faith in humanity that if I love hard enough then I can break down the walls people build around them. But is that really so? No matter how much I have loved I have not found a way to keep the walls from rebuilding when bricks start to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I see that beauty disappear. It breaks me to catch a glimpse only to have it torn away from me. I nearly kill myself hoping that deep inside somewhere, somewhere beyond those fortified walls, there is a heart that will one day be willing to let itself into the world. I hope that the guards have not killed it in fear that the kingdom would fall if it were ever allowed to open the gates. I scream out for it, but the walls do not let my voice pass. Is it screaming back at me? Does it hope for the best as I do? I wish I knew the answers; all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I be so strong when all I am doing is giving up the fight to save it? How is there strength in defeat? My guilt finds its way back to me when I remind myself how I didn't keep fighting. I'm told that will fade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could breach those walls sometimes, even if only for a second. But if I did and I only had a second what would I say? What could I say? I would just stand there and stare. I wouldn't have the bravery to open my mouth and speak. Only my eyes would find the words that I cannot. But that couldn't possibly be enough. How is that strength? I wish I was brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I tell myself that I would be better off if I could be more like them. Sometimes I tell myself that is the way to happiness. But then I remember what I could possibly gain by risking my heart repeatedly. Is the pain of the world really that terrifying that you would not be willing to take the risk of pain for an&amp;nbsp;honorarium beyond comprehension? How is settling the same as happiness? It isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I knock my head back, look up, close my eyes, and surrender myself. I want to believe. Please show me that I can continue to believe. Just remember to persevere and find your peace within. Just remember that this too shall pass. Just remember who you are. Just remember to sail courageously through shark infested waters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you found it yet; the hidden message written in seemingly&amp;nbsp;nonsensical&amp;nbsp;phrases that I left in a bottle? Did it find it's way to your beach yet? Because I would kill for a little company on this lonely island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be strong? I'm fucking trying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-382822269229568019?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/382822269229568019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-which-of-standard-lines-will-we-use.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/382822269229568019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/382822269229568019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-which-of-standard-lines-will-we-use.html' title='So which of the standard lines will we use?'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-8355233501299181222</id><published>2012-01-17T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T19:23:13.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're filling your pockets with my bones.</title><content type='html'>Feel it run past your skin, beyond your muscles, through your bones, and into your soul. Your entire being ignites.&amp;nbsp;Suppress&amp;nbsp;the fire. Hurry! Do not let the inside turn as dark as the hearts of those who set flame to you. Breathe calmly. Do you feel that? It is cooling. Good. You feel like you are losing yourself still? Okay. Close your eyes and look inside. Did it breach the barrier around your heart? No? Okay. Don't stop breathing calmly. Now close the eyes that look within. Can you see anything? No? Good. Find tranquility in that. What's that? You can feel cool grass under your feet? Good. Now open the eyes that look within. It's sunny and warm? Can you feel the breeze caress you? Good. Let your heart slow. Keep breathing. Now open your eyes that view the world. What do you see? Love? Good. Even for those who have forgotten love? Good. Welcome back. You did well. I'm proud of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-8355233501299181222?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/8355233501299181222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/youre-filling-your-pockets-with-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8355233501299181222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8355233501299181222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/youre-filling-your-pockets-with-my.html' title='You&apos;re filling your pockets with my bones.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7494649248949948831</id><published>2012-01-16T02:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T02:04:36.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you wanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself and then make a change.</title><content type='html'>I will warn you now. I can see deeper into your being than you care to show. I can see the things buried deep inside you that you don't want others to see. It is not a question of would you like to be a part of each other's lives, but rather are you brave enough to face that vulnerability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The path to rediscovering your humanity is not easy by any stretch of the imagination. I walked that path and faced it's terrors. I won't blame you for staying where you are, but if you can muster the courage to begin the journey I will help you with every step.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My honesty will be painful at times. It may force you to face the darkness inside that we all run from. But know that my words will be filled with love. I promise you that if you are brave enough to face yourself we will be able to share the fullest of lives and the purest of loves.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But also know that if you decide you want to join me on this journey I will be forcing myself down that path again so that you do not have to do it alone. Do not give up along the way. Do not leave me to face the terrors alone again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are not ready then that is perfectly understandable. If you are then let's conquer it together.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7494649248949948831?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7494649248949948831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-you-wanna-make-world-better-place.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7494649248949948831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7494649248949948831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-you-wanna-make-world-better-place.html' title='If you wanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself and then make a change.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7291416877617473889</id><published>2012-01-15T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T01:56:05.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rise, rise, rise to fall. I never cared, never cared to try until now to find home. The distance grows as the ground approaches.</title><content type='html'>It is both exciting and terrifying; the inability to distinguish between reality and that which is in my mind. Another sleepless night, not for lack of fatigue, but rather an overabundance of thoughts. Am I getting ahead of myself? What comes next? How did I get here? Why did it turn out like this? Is this going to be what I think/hope it will be? Am I reading too much into this? If only I could clear the smokescreen. Maybe then I could close these eyes without fear of what I will find on the backs of my eyelids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't rush. Let life happen. The things that are meant to fall in place will. Don't look for faults. Don't search for a reason to run. Just be. It's the hardest thing to do. Just be. It's the simplest thing to do. Let's see what's on the backs of those eyelids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7291416877617473889?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7291416877617473889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/rise-rise-rise-to-fall-i-never-cared.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7291416877617473889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7291416877617473889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/rise-rise-rise-to-fall-i-never-cared.html' title='Rise, rise, rise to fall. I never cared, never cared to try until now to find home. The distance grows as the ground approaches.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6329996791671690678</id><published>2012-01-14T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T16:38:39.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I never could explain why I keep coming back... From brilliant lights to a subtle dim; from open fields to walls that are caving in. I don't want to leave, but I should go.</title><content type='html'>The backspace button has become my best friend today. Hours spent typing half sentences and semi-phrases only to feel emptiness in every keystroke except in deleting. What is this sinking feeling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Don't go there! Please," cries a soft voice from within my heart. I hear the tears start to fall down a faceless voice. There is a slight quiver of fear and worry behind the words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry. I am sorry for putting you through this. I tried to be strong for us, but in the end all I have is weakness. I'm sorry I hurt us again," I respond.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's okay. Don't be sorry," it says. "You loved fully. We were happy." If I could see the face I am sure I would see a kind smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But how can you say that it's okay? I've done this so many times to us. I've caused you so much pain. And now this time...well look at the mess I have made. I'm so weak. I'm such a fai-"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's okay," it interrupts. "You are so far from weak. You are among the strongest of the strong." Love flows freely, but I am overcome with pain and fear when I hear it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can you say that?! Look at me now!" I scream holding back tears. "I was weak all along! I wasn't strong enough to keep us from hurting again! I wasn't strong enough to protect you! How can you say otherwise?!" The tears start flowing openly; tears of frustration, anguish, heartbreak, fear, and a plethora of other painful feelings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's okay. You are not weak for loving. In fact that is your true strength. You're right, we got hurt...very very hurt. But that doesn't make you weak because you could not prevent it." Tears continue to fall down my face, but I listen intently to these words. "It takes strength to love in the face of fear, insecurity, pain, and memories of the pain you felt every other time you loved and we got hurt. That alone is a rarity and an admirable quality to have. But for you it doesn't stop there. We have been hurt so many times before, yet you have never closed me from the world. You have always allowed me to be free. You have loved with your entire being no matter what. Even after we have been hurt by others you continue to love them. The amount of strength it takes to do that is unfathomable. Your resilience and willingness to always love no matter what, though painful as it can be, is the reason why there is nowhere I would rather be than here with you; loving, hurting, forgiving, smiling, crying, and everything else we do. In the end it the amount of love we had was worth every ounce of pain we felt. It was so worth it. We experienced something beautiful and rare and because of who you are we will experience it again, or maybe even stronger next time."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take a minute to take this in. The faceless voice seems to understand this and allow me plenty of time in silence before speaking again. After enough time has passed to let these words sink in, the voice continues.&amp;nbsp;"You are so far from a failure. Doing what you have done - loving the way you have loved - is nothing short of a success that few find. So please don't let yourself go to that cold, dark, and lonely place. Don't put the walls up around me. Let me hold you in my arms. Hold me in yours. We deserve that much. We will always feel the sadness of this, but one day we will get everything we ever hoped for. One day everything we give to others will be reciprocated and we will only have found it because of how wonderful you are. We will be one of the only ones to find that because you allowed us to. In spite of everything we have been through you still haven't given up. Don't let yourself start now. Everything will be okay in the end. I promise. Trust me as I trust you. Live fully. Love endlessly. I believe in you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start digesting what was said. For a long while I sit in the silence and try to process these words. I fight myself. I don't want to hurt anymore, but I know that what was said is true. I want to believe, but I am scared. I know if I close off I won't have to hurt like this again. But I know I won't be able to love like I did again either. Finally I speak. "You promise?" I ask timidly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I promise," it says lovingly and confidently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With those two words the voice fades. I can do this. Even if I feel weak I will be able to do this. I place my hand gently on my heart. "Let's do this, buddy. We got this," I think to myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-6329996791671690678?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6329996791671690678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-never-could-explain-why-i-keep-coming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6329996791671690678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6329996791671690678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-never-could-explain-why-i-keep-coming.html' title='I never could explain why I keep coming back... From brilliant lights to a subtle dim; from open fields to walls that are caving in. I don&apos;t want to leave, but I should go.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5666115753238808843</id><published>2012-01-13T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T01:56:51.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go sing too loud, make your voice break sing it out.</title><content type='html'>The storm has passed for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;The knight presses on.&lt;br /&gt;He will find a place to call home.&lt;br /&gt;Worry not youth, for tomorrow's sunshine will come soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;Stay strong young paladin of love.&lt;br /&gt;You're time to shine will come soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;And one day when you learn to fly you will take them all to the sky with you.&lt;br /&gt;For now love.&lt;br /&gt;Love yourself, love those who do not know love, and love those who do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-5666115753238808843?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5666115753238808843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/go-sing-too-loud-make-your-voice-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5666115753238808843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5666115753238808843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/go-sing-too-loud-make-your-voice-break.html' title='Go sing too loud, make your voice break sing it out.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7261327414909051948</id><published>2012-01-12T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T13:36:04.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a queen. Why would I settle for a fucking maid?</title><content type='html'>Gather 'round ye minds of youth for a real life tale of Hamlet....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When envy rules the the words that hold a veiled intent.&lt;br /&gt;To claim the crown while the knights are gone unable to defend.&lt;br /&gt;The king's brother with the poisoned dagger all the while assuring, "trust me I'm your friend."&lt;br /&gt;Behind the scenes with his poison words slowly brings the king to his end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once two young princes. Though different in looks, personality, and experience, they were both equally talented and handsome. They seemed to share an unbreakable bond of brotherhood. The Older Prince - being more wise, confident,&amp;nbsp;charismatic, and benevolent - gave his all to help his Younger Brother at any call. He dreamed of a day that one day they would be able to rise together. Though the Elder had not yet found a queen it was not for a lack of ability. Quite the contrary, charming the hearts of the maids of the kingdom came so naturally that he didn't even know when it was happening. He was a kind and honorable man who loved all with every ounce of his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such was his love for His Brother that rather than build his own kingdom he would assist in building a wondrous one for the Younger Prince.Throughout the years he continued his generosity never asking for anything in return and always acting selflessly for the sake of His Brother. Though the Younger of the princes had not yet made his kingdom the Older Brother remained hopeful that with his help it would soon happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the two princes were with their royal court appearing at a local festival where the Older Prince had planned to speak with a Young Maiden whom when he first laid eyes upon he was immediately entranced. There they partook in the events and enjoyed being among the merrymakers. Soon the time to leave came and the Older Prince, having experienced shyness for first time in so long, had to face that he had hardly spoken a word to the Maiden whose voice he had longed to hear. All great things must come to an end and the festival became filled with&amp;nbsp;raucous&amp;nbsp;drunkards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to their&amp;nbsp;chariot&amp;nbsp;the Older Prince heard a damsel in distress and recognized it to be the scream of the Woman Who Held His Gaze. He quickly leaped from the the chariot followed by his Most Trusted Knight and together they saved the Damsel from a beast many times her size that had been bringing her harm. Even though the Older Prince had asked His Brother to come help, the Younger Prince found he did not value putting his life on the line for others like his Older Brother and would rather keep himself out of harm. He simply said, "it's none of my business," and looked away. Soon the Older Prince and His Knight returned with wounds from the battle but were victorious nonetheless and they left on their journey home. Though wounded the Older Prince had also won the interest of the Maiden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the weeks following the Older Prince started to court the Beautiful Young Maiden. He found her to be more perfect than he could ever imagine a woman and soon made her His Queen. Happiness followed as the Benevolent Prince became a King and began to build his kingdom. There were hardships, fears, and mistakes along the way, but with the Queen by his side the King knew he could overcome anything. Together their kingdom would be the most beautiful in all the land for they were so perfect for each other that their ever-growing love would see to it to bring these two the happiness they deserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is where you would think happy endings happen. But this tale is not one told by fairies. No, this is a&amp;nbsp;Shakespearean tragedy. All was not well in the kingdom. Through the happiness of the King the Young Prince began to covet&amp;nbsp;that which his Brother had. Though at first he had tried to pretend he did not feel that way he eventually found his envy to be too unbearable to not act upon. While the King had tried to instill the values upon His Brother that would help him build his own kingdom and find his own Queen, His Brother had not wanted a kingdom and queen of his own. What he desired was the kingdom and the Queen of the King. He began to plot the downfall of His Brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that his Queen had come from humble beginnings like himself, the King saw that she was without support outside of their love. He feared the smile on the Queens face would disappear with time if he did not help her find a court of her own. The King decided that he would lend his own court consisting of his Greatest Knights and his Younger Brother, the Prince. He believed that in them he would finally find the friendship she had longed for. The King was not aware that doing so would soon enough bring his kingdom to its downfall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Young Prince could not be happier. He found himself in an advantageous position to claim that which he coveted. He desired the Queen and the crown of His Brother. But he must not be hasty. He knew he could not simply ask for His Brother to hand it all over. Instead he must work from behind the scenes to turn the Queen against the King and take over his kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon came the trials. The King and Queen were faced with difficulties that came when building a new kingdom and knew without the help of their court their kingdom would surely fall. Again the King decided to ask his Trusted Knights and Younger Brother the prince if they would be man enough to help. For he was but one man and required someone he could trust to help the queen when he could not. Though they all volunteered, none as enthusiastically as His Brother. This should have seemed suspicious to the King, but his love and trust for His Brother was so strong it blinded him from his suspicions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon the King and Queen began to face harder difficulties and more frequently. It worried the King. He spoke to His Brother and begged for assistance. His Brother gladly accepted and told him he would always be loyal to the King. He expressed his love for His Brother and promised that as such he could always be counted on by the King. He was trustworthy. The Poor King had no clue what would come next. His whole kingdom would fall to the hands of the one he trusted and loved more than any of His Knights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began to hear concerns from the Queen. She expressed her discontent with the King and said that his brother had made claims about him that made her question her desire to rule with him. His Brother had told her the King was happier before he took the crown. He had said that it was when the Queen came into his life that the King began to change from a benevolent man into a cold-hearted one. He had told her that she was obviously unhappy with her royal status. He said the King did not do enough for the Queen and that she should be with a King who could treat her as the royalty she was. The King heard of this from the Queen. But the King, holding true to his love and trust in His Brother, thought nothing more of it than a&amp;nbsp;miss-communication. He didn't want to doubt in His Brother. It was unfathomable to the King that someone whom he loved so dearly would try to destroy something dear to him. But he had been warned by his Queen. She told him to stay away from His Brother; that he is not to be trusted. The Queen feared that the Prince would bring the downfall of their happiness. The Queen said she saw through the Prince and that he was no Brother of the King. He simply discounted what she was saying as irrational fears and assured her that His Brother is an honorable and trustworthy man. He assured the Queen that she could go to His Brother about anything as His Brother knew him so well and would always be there to help the success of their shared kingdom. The King would soon find out that her words were all too true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the King's presence was unexpectedly summoned. By royal obligation he was required to answer his summons. Now was the Prince's chance. He had planted the seeds of doubt for months and now was the time to harvest his crop: the Queen. All that he coveted would be his soon. The Queen, never having been away from Her King since they first met was saddened by their separation; so much so that she could not feel happiness and began to fear he would never return. "The prize is ready to be claimed," thought the Prince. He saw her doubt. He saw her fear. He saw her loneliness. The Prince made his move. With the help of some magic dust he acquired created by the most vile of ruffians the prince showed the Queen a happiness that she had never known before. He told her that she would only find it with him. He assured her that the happiness was real and not just magic. The Queen bought it. The Prince had won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that something had gone wrong while he was away the King sent for contact with his Queen. She could not be reached. She had disappeared it seemed. Then he tried His Brother. He too could not be found. Worrying evermore the King began to blame himself for ever leaving. If only he had stayed by her side. He would have been able to protect her from what had happened. He was ridden with guilt and shame for all he could think that would have caused this. He finally reached one of His Most Noble Knights. The Knight helped the King through his worries and assured the King that with patience he would be able to face whatever happened to His Queen and His Brother when he returned and should not worry himself now. But the Knight admitted he had not a single clue as to what happened but believed in the strength of the King and this worried him. For the Noble Knight had been a childhood friend of His Brother and knew him better than the King himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still filled with fear and worry the King desperately tried to reach His Brother and finally reached him. Unbeknownst to him His Brother had taken His Queen and now held the crown. His Brother sat on the thrown of the kingdom the King had built. Still trusting His Brother the King begged for help and any information he knew on what had happened to his queen. His Brother assured him that everything was fine. He said he had been taking care of the Queen and that there was nothing for the King to worry about. Again he told the King that he was a Loyal Brother and that he would not have to fear the future of his kingdom. He had told the King that though he did not want to get in the middle of the affairs between the King and Queen he would ensure that everything would be okay. The King bought it. He had no idea what was waiting for him when he returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon he was able to return home. The King had been awaiting the day when once again his lips would meet those of His Queen since the day he had left. Upon his arrival the King started discovering the truth. It wasn't long before he knew every detail of His Brother's betrayal. He raged with anger. He collapsed with anguish. He reveled in knowing the truth finally. Most of all he found that his heart had been shattered by this ultimate act of betrayal. He cried out in sadness. "Why?" he asked. He could not believe that he had trusted His Brother this entire time and cast aside any doubt when warning signs would appear and in the end His Brother took that which was most precious to him. He could not believe that His Brother would convince the Queen that he were a better man; that he were better equipped to make her happy. He knew his Brother knew not of the trials and tribulations from the Queens life. He knew the cowardice of His Brother when those were in need. He knew of the selfishness of His Brother and how well he disguised it. He knew it all, but he could not tell her now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King had lost all. He was no longer the King, but a Vagrant exiled from his kingdom. Though His Knights followed, the Defeated King felt such emptiness. He trusted His Brother with his life and his trust was betrayed. He loved His Queen with all his being and she was ripped away from him. He saw the truth, but His Brother had twisted her so much. She no longer remembered everything she originally warned the Defeated King about his Younger Brother. She no longer had the ability to see what the Vagrant's Younger Brother had done and had been doing all along. The Vagrant continued to love them both with all that remained of his heart, but knew he had lost forever. He knew that when the Queen realized that the new King's promises were built on nothing but selfish lies she would surely feel what she had lost. But he knew that the kingdom and the Queen could never again be his. The Soul that was shared by the bodies of the Vagrant and the Queen would forever feel the loneliness of never being whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vagrant accepted his defeat. His younger brother, the New King, had won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-7261327414909051948?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7261327414909051948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-queen-why-would-i-settle-for.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7261327414909051948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7261327414909051948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-queen-why-would-i-settle-for.html' title='I have a queen. Why would I settle for a fucking maid?'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1240414298104183869</id><published>2011-11-28T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T08:32:50.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For solutions, look to the sky. Coincide with constellations.</title><content type='html'>Douse this flame with sand made of the broken down walls that surround the heart. The almighty cries out in pain as its children have yet to get it right. It seems never-ending as this cycle perpetuates with no one stopping to check for error.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So come with me young paladin of grace and show the world its savior. For love without love is but a breath compared to the gale of that which is unconditional. "Rage away!" it screams. "Let yourself become enveloped with hate!" But no action has yet to be taken for this king of nothing - though unworthy - has a court beneath his arms holding him high. Will the weight become to much to bear or will the king learn to stand on his own?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1240414298104183869?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1240414298104183869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-solutions-look-to-sky-coincide-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1240414298104183869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1240414298104183869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-solutions-look-to-sky-coincide-with.html' title='For solutions, look to the sky. Coincide with constellations.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6200747158090556491</id><published>2011-11-16T00:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T00:49:25.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I won't be offended if no one sees, I just wanna know what that'll mean.</title><content type='html'>It has been a while. This plague has made it's way into my being once again and there is but one thing that can carry that plague far from my being; A Transcendent Zephyr. It's getting late so I am going to kick this off with a short one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This war has yet to begin, though I can feel its fiery breath on the back of my neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A violent storm from the north barreling for the self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batten the hatches! All hands on deck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...It's going to take all I've got to survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-6200747158090556491?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6200747158090556491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-wont-be-offended-if-no-one-sees-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6200747158090556491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6200747158090556491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-wont-be-offended-if-no-one-sees-i.html' title='I won&apos;t be offended if no one sees, I just wanna know what that&apos;ll mean.'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1719148917850116239</id><published>2009-11-28T00:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T10:02:06.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I will keep on running this never-ending race...</title><content type='html'>Consciously, ever so carefully, I perpetuate this cyclical existence of emotional instability. When happiness peaks I relish in it and act quick to destroy it. When I find myeself in the deepest part of the trench called "negativity" I make sure you fuckers pay and act quick to climb out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psychotic in its rawest and most adulterated form. I really fucking love myself. Every moment differeng from the previous to the present to the next; this way of living is quite exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the sunrise everyday comes one question: what kind of crazy shit will happen today? And at the moments before the next sunrise (seeing as how I don't sleep) comes the same reposte to the onslaught of the day that had almost come to a close:...wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three cheers for predictable unpredictability!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-1719148917850116239?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1719148917850116239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-will-keep-on-running-this-never.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1719148917850116239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1719148917850116239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-will-keep-on-running-this-never.html' title='I will keep on running this never-ending race...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-816253840261168048</id><published>2009-11-27T23:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T00:21:27.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To take a bite, but I know one will turn, to three or four or more, my little whore...</title><content type='html'>Difficulties prevail over smooth sailing. I can't emphasize enough the amount of pain involved in such a fact. It's exhausting. Mental collapse is not only possible but imminent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dd&gt;God, grant me the serenity&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;To accept the things I cannot change;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Courage to change the things I can;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;And wisdom to know the difference.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Living one day at a time;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Enjoying one moment at a time;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Taking this sinful world&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;As it is, not as I would have it...&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;Please, pretty please with a fucking cherry on top, calm yourself. Hold on tight because here comes the scary part. Now put your hands in the air and scream as it drops. Let yourself become consumed with adrenaline, let it flow freely through your veins, and when you reach the bottom you know you only have up to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It burns so hot as the pain spreads surely from end to end. Feel it in your fingertips, down your spine, pooling at your feet, and shooting into your skull. Quickly all disappears and you are left with one thing; a projectile spew of all the festering bullshit in your heart and with inhale comes the acceptance of a façade as reality. Rest your wings angel of mercy, you have done your job well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxTR96IFobI/AAAAAAAAABw/CioaUyWV3wo/s1600/rerun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxTR96IFobI/AAAAAAAAABw/CioaUyWV3wo/s320/rerun.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-816253840261168048?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/816253840261168048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-take-bite-but-i-know-one-will-turn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/816253840261168048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/816253840261168048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-take-bite-but-i-know-one-will-turn.html' title='To take a bite, but I know one will turn, to three or four or more, my little whore...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxTR96IFobI/AAAAAAAAABw/CioaUyWV3wo/s72-c/rerun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2230026072779507918</id><published>2009-11-26T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T01:25:59.641-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For our means secure us and our defects prove our worth...</title><content type='html'>It is so easy to be ungrateful on a day like today but I do know one thing I am grateful of. I am grateful that in spite of all the adversity I encounter both internally and externally I am still in this world capable of feeling/seeing/hearing/tasting wonderful things, meeting wonderful people, and creating beauty from anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to me sweet child. Come rest your tired head in my bosom. Everything will be okay, everything will be just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-2230026072779507918?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2230026072779507918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/for-our-means-secure-us-and-our-defects.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2230026072779507918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2230026072779507918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/for-our-means-secure-us-and-our-defects.html' title='For our means secure us and our defects prove our worth...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-5428651909664610646</id><published>2009-11-25T01:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T13:28:42.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I sway in your waves, I sing in your sleep, I stay till I'm in your life...</title><content type='html'>The torture chambers known as my rib cage and skull are in use; their captives slowly weakening. Will they prove their strength to persevere and not give into the temptation of false salvation or will they fall victim to the hands of the great vilain that attempts to bring down this kingdom. Oh right and left hand knights of this king I beg of you, be strong. For all of our sake survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with these words on my screen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; and thats when I realized I can do this on my own&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; its just easier with someone there to keep me warm.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what had overcome me in my moments before sleep that are beyond the boundaries of my memories. Why was I inspired to write such words when most of my day is spent feeling otherwise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxWKhA_yrCI/AAAAAAAAACA/OONDQbCxfOk/s1600/sands+of+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxWKhA_yrCI/AAAAAAAAACA/OONDQbCxfOk/s320/sands+of+time.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-5428651909664610646?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/5428651909664610646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5428651909664610646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/5428651909664610646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='I sway in your waves, I sing in your sleep, I stay till I&apos;m in your life...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxWKhA_yrCI/AAAAAAAAACA/OONDQbCxfOk/s72-c/sands+of+time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-234512810686709776</id><published>2009-11-24T01:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T01:10:47.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere...</title><content type='html'>Forever changing, this vessel is an enigma. The soul that occupies it is at the whim of the mind which cannot comprehend the existence of things otherworldly. The concept of life and death comes easy. Creation and afterlife are ideas that are easy to grasp as water. You can brush yourself through the pool of truth but when you try to take hold you end up with nothing more than that with which you started. Likewise the symbiosis of the soul and body are incoherent through these eyes and ears. Existence in this plane is only a fraction of both reality and understanding. The obvious subtlties that lay before in the path to enlightenment are tricky enough to confound even the sharpest of minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey captain, I say we take our time with this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-234512810686709776?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/234512810686709776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/melody-softly-soaring-through-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/234512810686709776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/234512810686709776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/melody-softly-soaring-through-my.html' title='A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-3605917938284151259</id><published>2009-11-23T21:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T21:12:07.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know you'll come in the night like a theif, but I've had some time alone to hone my lying technique...</title><content type='html'>The problem with humans is that God made the mistake of giving us the ability to think. Because he did that we stopped living and began existing. We found being miserable as acceptable. Where before we welcomed happiness with open arms we began chasing it away. Love became a pretty dream and a replacement for the word "tolerate." We were doomed from the moment we left the womb; our lives would forever be filled with consciously trying to cure ourselves and the world of all things wonderful.Could you, would you, please just revert to your primal state and allow the sunshine to burn through the clouds of your misery?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-3605917938284151259?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/3605917938284151259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-know-youll-come-in-night-like-theif.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3605917938284151259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3605917938284151259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-know-youll-come-in-night-like-theif.html' title='I know you&apos;ll come in the night like a theif, but I&apos;ve had some time alone to hone my lying technique...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6743205582149720136</id><published>2009-11-22T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T00:54:51.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I'm not making myself perfectly clear, I guess I'm not making myself perfectly clear, how many times, how many times, how many times is this gonna happen, how many times, how many times, how many times is this gonna happen...</title><content type='html'>I have never been known for my stability. My finances have been in shambles for years. I have bounced between higher education and the school of hard knocks. I make decisions on a whim. My mind - my fucking mind - the epitome of instability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day you will see me happy and positive about life. It could last for days, weeks, and sometimes, if I am really unlucky, minutes. The other times you will find a full-blooded nihilist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, let me correct this. I might not necessarily ever be a true nihilist since I can't ever seem to shake my optimism not matter the misery I face. But I do find myself in such low lows that I wonder how I ever managed to climb back up to ground level again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time it happened again. I knew it would. I am smart and I knew from the start how things would end. I just hoped that I was wrong. I am desperate to be proved wrong sometimes. In fact so much so that I put myself in precarious situations where I will only end up hurting in the end in the hopes of being proven wrong. I want proof that the world is ultimately a good place. I wanted that with this too. I just wanted so badly for this time to be the time I was wrong. I still want it. I want to be wrong now. It hurts so much to give up for the sake of being able to maintain a minute amount of emotional well-being that I can't help but cry. These are not tears of sadness. These are tears of frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am fed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU HEAR THAT WHO THE FUCK EVER OR WHAT THE FUCK EVER IS UP THERE? I KNOW YOU ARE FUCKING LISTENING! I AM FED UP! WHEN IS IT MY FUCKING TURN?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not all rules were meant to be broken. You are the rule, not the exception I was looking for. But I knew that. I am the same way. For the kind of person I am, I am the rule and not the exception. I follow a stereotypical path. I just wanted out paths to join, even if just for a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be okay. I have felt inexplicable amounts of pain before. This is nothing. This pain is temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this too shall pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxV4Y9rom0I/AAAAAAAAAB4/LBGuzl80EmA/s1600/fated+downfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxV4Y9rom0I/AAAAAAAAAB4/LBGuzl80EmA/s320/fated+downfall.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-6743205582149720136?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6743205582149720136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-guess-im-not-making-myself-perfectly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6743205582149720136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6743205582149720136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-guess-im-not-making-myself-perfectly.html' title='I guess I&apos;m not making myself perfectly clear, I guess I&apos;m not making myself perfectly clear, how many times, how many times, how many times is this gonna happen, how many times, how many times, how many times is this gonna happen...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SxV4Y9rom0I/AAAAAAAAAB4/LBGuzl80EmA/s72-c/fated+downfall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-8753971812537676224</id><published>2009-11-21T22:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T22:38:30.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you call me at all don't tell me that I'm ordinary....</title><content type='html'>I have always found myself one major recurring problem with life. That problem is Love. I mean that by every description of the word. Loving myself, loving others, accepting love, being loved, believing in love, trusting in love, falling in love, etc. all comes with great difficulty. But out of all things I struggle with understanding love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is my tendency to overanalyze &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt;. I really do. Love is something that just is. I understand that much. Beyond that I am lost. I wish someone would give me the answers to questions I have to find out myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3498476684353831681-8753971812537676224?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/8753971812537676224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-you-call-me-at-all-dont-tell-me-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8753971812537676224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8753971812537676224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-you-call-me-at-all-dont-tell-me-that.html' title='If you call me at all don&apos;t tell me that I&apos;m ordinary....'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-1635411122655187389</id><published>2009-11-20T23:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T23:37:44.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My bones don't feel like they felt when I knew they were in my own skin, when I was still a man...</title><content type='html'>I wonder about myself a lot. I put myself in situations where i set myself up to be hurt. I use the excuse of, "I want to have faith in the goodness of the world," and only find reasons to lose hope and be bitter with the world. Optimism at its worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would classify this as the reason that I am an optimist who wishes he could be a pessimist. I know that pessimists don't get let down like I do all the time. They don't have to feel like they were proven wrong very often. I wish that I could walk around with the outlook that would save so much grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am too tired give shape to my feelings with words. You have exhausted me. Thinking about this all day for many days has worn out my mind and my heart. Why, out of all people, would I invest this all in you? I dont't understand my actions. I have so many why's I have been asking myself over and over again. I still don't understand or even have a hint to the answer. I suppose that is life. We search as human beings for answers. Very rarely do we find one for and of the questions we really care about. I hope this is one I find the answer to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SweYvRVShrI/AAAAAAAAABo/xTyymuw3_8M/s1600/the+sky.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SweYvRVShrI/AAAAAAAAABo/xTyymuw3_8M/s320/the+sky.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-1635411122655187389?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/1635411122655187389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-bones-dont-feel-like-they-felt-when.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1635411122655187389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/1635411122655187389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-bones-dont-feel-like-they-felt-when.html' title='My bones don&apos;t feel like they felt when I knew they were in my own skin, when I was still a man...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SweYvRVShrI/AAAAAAAAABo/xTyymuw3_8M/s72-c/the+sky.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6894479984319282487</id><published>2009-11-19T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T12:40:48.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even if the rain always wins, and forces my eyes shut to dream of, I'll still dream of brighter days...</title><content type='html'>Another day. Time won't change its pace no matter how kindly I ask. What a &lt;i&gt;cunt&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have plenty more I would like to say, but that statement alone is more than enough food for thought. Ponder in the wonder of the truth; bask in its bitterness. Don't you ever fucking steal my sunshine again...ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwWtFxH06KI/AAAAAAAAABg/kDRuy1QsAE4/s1600/damsel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwWtFxH06KI/AAAAAAAAABg/kDRuy1QsAE4/s320/damsel.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-6894479984319282487?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6894479984319282487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/even-if-rain-always-wins-and-forces-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6894479984319282487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6894479984319282487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/even-if-rain-always-wins-and-forces-my.html' title='Even if the rain always wins, and forces my eyes shut to dream of, I&apos;ll still dream of brighter days...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwWtFxH06KI/AAAAAAAAABg/kDRuy1QsAE4/s72-c/damsel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-6539977662763490587</id><published>2009-11-18T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T20:40:39.569-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, that Laser Rain kept me up all night again, scratching at the window like a bright colored beast, howling at the dawn like an adulterous priest...</title><content type='html'>It is but one desire. Please don't let me feel all alone in this world. Dermal contact of the most platonic kind can bring salvation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some seek to fill the void which will forever accompany us as human beings. Imbeciles! I pity them and their endless quest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I be able to find a touch of kindness and care or will I have to settle for lust? This game is so old; been there, done that. My desires as an individual with a unique thought process conflicts with my instincts as a male in nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the grand scale my heavy heart weighs more than the world in which it exists. The gravitational pull of such a mass is overwhelming. I find myself frequented by the conundrum of being surrounded by multiple applicants for the role of lover in my life. I am forced to break hearts and in turn lose a piece of my own in the process. The line, "I am the boy that set your girl on fire" plays through my mind on repeat. Those words given birth by another breathe their truthful rhetoric in this cloudy existence of mine. Murphy's Law, could you ever be more real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was absolutely beautiful and I decided to enjoy it from the confines of a cold room. I chose against taking advantage of the perfect conditions for happiness. For this I blame you, yes you. Do I regret such a decision? Not one bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I will allow my racing thoughts to match my racing heart. "Oh God, please open your eyes, it's time to finalize, let's make this now or never." Make it stop. Oh mind, won't you be silent long enough for me to say good-bye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwRn19ti9RI/AAAAAAAAABY/wEtTwG7gLd8/s1600/static+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwRn19ti9RI/AAAAAAAAABY/wEtTwG7gLd8/s320/static+copy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-6539977662763490587?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/6539977662763490587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-that-laser-rain-kept-me-up-all-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6539977662763490587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/6539977662763490587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh-that-laser-rain-kept-me-up-all-night.html' title='Oh, that Laser Rain kept me up all night again, scratching at the window like a bright colored beast, howling at the dawn like an adulterous priest...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwRn19ti9RI/AAAAAAAAABY/wEtTwG7gLd8/s72-c/static+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-3774782891753712289</id><published>2009-11-17T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T19:18:08.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Across the bloodstained hallway I saw mercy conquer hate...</title><content type='html'>Slow waves caress my soul calming the fire that raged. It has now been reduced to a candle flame. Still burning and unpredictable, but only able to light a dark room. The danger has passed and exhaustion ensues. The battle was long and drawn out and now the victor seeks solace in the land of surreality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will good always overcome evil? It is a question I ask over and over. Evil always seems to have won when good manages to fight its way back to victory beating evil down to an embarrassing form of existence. I fear that one day good will not win. What will come if that happens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now drift. Let the tantric movements of a dreamscape trace along the edges of your mind. Tomorrow is a day for work. Today allow yourself to celebrate. Allow yourself to take advange of the less than average number of neural storms. Let your eyes close on the present and open to the future. Rest young prince. Sleep brave knight. The war will never be over, but for now the battle is won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwNnaElaIwI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ScPqeqTRE3o/s1600/IMG00203_bak.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwNnaElaIwI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ScPqeqTRE3o/s320/IMG00203_bak.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-3774782891753712289?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/3774782891753712289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/across-bloodstained-hallway-i-saw-mercy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3774782891753712289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/3774782891753712289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/across-bloodstained-hallway-i-saw-mercy.html' title='Across the bloodstained hallway I saw mercy conquer hate...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwNnaElaIwI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ScPqeqTRE3o/s72-c/IMG00203_bak.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-2762591906963180990</id><published>2009-11-16T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T00:00:36.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take your form let it be the scariest, let it be most furious...</title><content type='html'>If I went crazy and my life became consumed with utter nonsense would you be there to wipe the sweat from my brow as I lost control? Would you hold me until I stopped shaking? Would you comfort me while I sobbed as I realized how helpless I was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I God-damned hope so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like napalm in my chest. This burning feeling oozes from my throat to my bowels. It is a me that I have not faced in a very long time. Shall I fight it? Hah! A laughable thought that is. It feels so good. It feels like nails digging into my back while fucking; digging in so deep flesh rips from my body. God it hurts so good. I can lie and it feels like the truth. I can destroy and it feels productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is beautiful. I shudder with disgust and the hair all over my body stands on end. These thoughts that run through my head are terrifying yet my heart begs me to embrace them. Where before I was yin, I have now transformed into yang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embrace...suppress...embrace...suppress...I have not decided which I shall choose. Most likely I will spend the entire ride weighing out the two options until this feeling passes just like every other time. I guess only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A piece of advice: Stay the &lt;i&gt;fuck&lt;/i&gt; out of my way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwEGlpVBf4I/AAAAAAAAABI/9f3OnBjxaCw/s1600/napal+blur.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwEGlpVBf4I/AAAAAAAAABI/9f3OnBjxaCw/s320/napal+blur.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-2762591906963180990?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/2762591906963180990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/take-your-form-let-it-be-scariest-let.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2762591906963180990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/2762591906963180990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/take-your-form-let-it-be-scariest-let.html' title='Take your form let it be the scariest, let it be most furious...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwEGlpVBf4I/AAAAAAAAABI/9f3OnBjxaCw/s72-c/napal+blur.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-8142728614792531400</id><published>2009-11-15T12:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T19:18:54.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even if you've been so close you're not alone anymore, still we grow...</title><content type='html'>A container of nitroglycerin should come labeled to handle with extreme care. I have been looking in the mirror for hours on end and I can't find a warning written anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me in my most vulnerable state. This is the me that I fear. The fires of hell are a winter storm compared to this flame when ignited. Tempt not, please, for my sake. I am scared of that person; the stereotype, the statistic. I have waged wars comparable to the battle between Lucifer and God to become a person beyond such a fated existence. Allow me to continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a murderous samurai who has traded steel and blood for wood and kindness I would like to continue my journey of life following a path far from the world I felt destiend to be a part of forever. Enable my request, I beg of you. Allow me to protect, not to require others to seek protection from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War still ravages the once beautiful countryside of my mind. When will it end? When can we lay down arms and pick up broken pieces. Together, I swear, we can mend it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwBjnbgBZwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PP7kThgZKNA/s1600-h/IMG00198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwBjnbgBZwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PP7kThgZKNA/s320/IMG00198.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-8142728614792531400?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/8142728614792531400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/even-if-youve-been-so-close-youre-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8142728614792531400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/8142728614792531400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/even-if-youve-been-so-close-youre-not.html' title='Even if you&apos;ve been so close you&apos;re not alone anymore, still we grow...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/SwBjnbgBZwI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PP7kThgZKNA/s72-c/IMG00198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3498476684353831681.post-7901824019158508089</id><published>2009-11-14T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T10:48:28.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It was all simple words, playful at best, so the story starts...</title><content type='html'>Like the Nile River, like the Santa Ana Winds, I came into this world destined to be a living contradiction. The name Christopher Santos would come to represent a &lt;strike&gt;human&lt;/strike&gt; paradox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain and suffering came hand-in-hand with happiness and serentiy. Loneliness accompanied by companionship. My experiences taught me two lessons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1)&lt;/b&gt; Life is shit. It is meaningless. It makes no difference if you live or die, life moves on without you. Are you brave enough to race to the finish, to beat nature to the punch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2)&lt;/b&gt; Life is beautiful. It's completely infinite and unpredictable. There is so much to enjoy and share. Are you brave enough to face the hardship of life and overcome it and live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answers are always the same and the come simultaneously. Yes and yes. No and no. Some times I don't know how I managed to survive and others I don't know how I could ever want to do otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is for sure. I am an addict. My drug of choice, Life. It is the most awful and yet the most amazing drug ever. I have never felt greater highs than when enjoying life. Yet the lows are awful. Coming down from the high is misery and the withdraws lonely. But no matter how hard I try, and believe me I have tried very hard over the years, I have never been able to quit. You would think with the amount of times that I hit rock bottom with this addiction that I would finally see it to quit. But I keep going. I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; fucking love this drug. I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; fucking hate this drug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I defy logic. That is my responsibility as a living, sleeping (sometimes), eating (gluttonously), thinking (far too much), shitting, drinking, crying, laughing, creating, fucking, smiling, talking (loudly), loving, hating, helping, hurting paradox. Colloquial with acquaintences and austere with lovers. I am a liar who can do nothing but tell the truth. I am a proverb ripped from the pages of the Tao Te Ching and commanded by God to breathe. It is like Nietzsche and Aristotle had a one night stand and I am the bastard child of their debauchery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will open my life, my heart, my mind, my past, my present, and my hopes for the future to you. I will do so for anyone. I tell myself that I have nothing to hide. Yet why do I find myself cowering in the corner of my existence? Why does my soul let no one in? I tell myself I want a sense of amity yet I run and hide when I find it. I demolish it after spending so much time and effort building it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned a few things of myself though. I am not completely lost. I know I want to find the other half of my soul when my mind, body, and heart are ready for it. I know I need to learn how to capitalize on my talents, of which i have many, to create a series of successes. I know that one day it will all make sense and I will find myself in an Earth-bound Nirvana. Until then I shall just keep swimming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/Sv74hFpkWGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/__okNn7lnPs/s1600-h/this+dream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/Sv74hFpkWGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/__okNn7lnPs/s320/this+dream.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/3498476684353831681-7901824019158508089?l=kindredwind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/feeds/7901824019158508089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-was-all-simple-words-playful-at-best.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7901824019158508089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3498476684353831681/posts/default/7901824019158508089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kindredwind.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-was-all-simple-words-playful-at-best.html' title='It was all simple words, playful at best, so the story starts...'/><author><name>Christopher</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15965294484976694432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4hGG6SGX4m4/TtO36sG6nDI/AAAAAAAAADk/UajQTvyAdcA/s220/FxCam_1284586383246.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZpQAPaXozK8/Sv74hFpkWGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/__okNn7lnPs/s72-c/this+dream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
