<?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-4646535965264315482</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:19:25.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>are you in that mood yet?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-4893954176786286050</id><published>2009-04-07T22:45:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T22:48:58.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- FRUITY.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwP4m0rXlI/AAAAAAAAABY/RTuSvUq1enM/s1600-h/IMG00451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322146324813667922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwP4m0rXlI/AAAAAAAAABY/RTuSvUq1enM/s320/IMG00451.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;lol! Yessenia said i was fuirty because i brought this wallet &amp;amp; carried this bag together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WHATEVER! &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;michael kors &amp;amp; marc jacobs&lt;/span&gt;; cute, right? =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-4893954176786286050?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/4893954176786286050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/fruity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/4893954176786286050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/4893954176786286050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/fruity.html' title='-- FRUITY.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwP4m0rXlI/AAAAAAAAABY/RTuSvUq1enM/s72-c/IMG00451.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-5937872575672099502</id><published>2009-04-07T22:29:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T22:39:58.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- i got it for CHEAP!.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwNSQGlwNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/PwLyvmVq4I4/s1600-h/2ufqef8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322143466856497362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwNSQGlwNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/PwLyvmVq4I4/s320/2ufqef8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;found these babies in nordstrom for $82. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;CH-CH-CHEA&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-5937872575672099502?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/5937872575672099502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/materialistic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/5937872575672099502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/5937872575672099502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/materialistic.html' title='-- i got it for CHEAP!.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/SdwNSQGlwNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/PwLyvmVq4I4/s72-c/2ufqef8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-3811430353063609935</id><published>2009-04-05T00:23:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T20:43:59.281-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- story of my LIFE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it could all be simple. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but you'd rather make it hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;loving you is like a battle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; we both end up with scars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tell me who i have to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;to get some reciprocity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;'cause no one loves you more than me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; no one ever will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;is this just a silly game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that forces you to act this way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;forces you to scream my name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;then pretend that you can't stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;tell me who i have to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;to get some reciprocity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;see no one loves you more than me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; no one ever will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;no matter how i think we grow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you always seem to let me know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it ain't working, it ain't working&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; when i try to walk away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;you hurt yourself to make me stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this is crazy, this is crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i keep letting you back in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;how can i explain myself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as painful as this thing has been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;i just can't be with no one else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;see, i know what we've got to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you let go &amp;amp; i'll let go to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;'caues no one's hurt me more than you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; no one over will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;no matter how i think we grow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you always seem to let me know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it ain't working, it ain't working&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&amp;amp; when i try to walk away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;you hurt yourself to make me stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this is crazy, this is crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;care for me, care for me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i know you care for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;there for me, there for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;said you'd be there for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cry for me, cry for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;you said you'd die for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;give to me, give to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;why won't you live for me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;where were you. . .when i needed you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-3811430353063609935?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/3811430353063609935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/story-of-my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/3811430353063609935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/3811430353063609935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/04/story-of-my-life.html' title='-- story of my LIFE.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-5461543323133938577</id><published>2009-03-31T21:15:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T23:53:31.097-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- sex &amp; the CITY.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;NOTE: this post is for future reference; in case i start to second guess, regret, etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;it's here to remind me of our higher altitude &amp;amp; our LOVE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i know i've said this to myself numerous times, but i swear yo -- Carrie &amp;amp; Big = Me &amp;amp; Rodney. LMFAO! don't-say-NOTHING. i mean, besides the fact that they're white &amp;amp; twice our senior, we have a lot of similarties; love wise. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;we are the CITY&lt;/span&gt;. i mean shit, we've been through a lot, almost 5 years between us. he's &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;my first love, my last love, &amp;amp; all that in between shit&lt;/span&gt;. as much as i hate him &amp;amp; as much as we fight/argue/break up to make up -- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;if this isn't love then there's no such thing&lt;/span&gt;. point BLANK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i miss him as every minute passes&lt;/span&gt;. corny, right? as long as he isn't next to me, i'm missing him. even when we're together, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i contemplate on how much i'm gonna miss him the second he's gone&lt;/span&gt;. lately it's been really bad. i just see everyone else &amp;amp; listen to them talk about their significant others. i'm like man, stfu nobody wants to hear about that. so instead of listening, i daydream &amp;amp; block out whatever fuckery they're rambling about. i'm so in love with him, it's more than infatuation because i've accepted his flaws &amp;amp; he's accepted mine. we never believed in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;soulmates&lt;/span&gt; but it just seems that God made us for one another. as many times as we felt like leaving, or other people tried to convince us that we should leave each other alone we just couldn't stay away. i can't see my future &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt; him, he's my everything. i thought about the possibility of us breaking apart &amp;amp; going our separate ways, but what would it be like if i went on with my life with another man on my side, &amp;amp; him with another woman? it just doesn't make any sense, it doesn't fit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;so not compatible, that we're compatible&lt;/span&gt;" i can't go 60 seconds without thinking of that man. (Rodney not Joe Budden lmao) every song on the radio, everything on tv, every movie, every experience, everyone i meet, all the conversations i always manage to think of him &amp;amp; manage to incorporate &amp;amp; relate him to every single word &amp;amp; scenario. everything i do &amp;amp; say i think, "how would Rodney feel?" of course he loves that lol. my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;heart jumps&lt;/span&gt; whenever his name pops up in my phone; my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;heart melts&lt;/span&gt; when he calls me "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;baby, mami, mama, love, sweetheart&lt;/span&gt;" all that good stuff; my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;body lights up&lt;/span&gt; whenever he laughs; i fall asleep listening to him &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;breathe&lt;/span&gt;; i always believed that his &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;eyes &lt;/span&gt;are the windows to one's &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;soul&lt;/span&gt;, so in that case, i can see &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;heaven&lt;/span&gt; through his.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;AHHHHHHH! is this really me typing this? i can't believe this. yes, ladies &amp;amp; gentleman -- this what &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; has done to me. even when things are so bad between us, all i have to do is dwell on all the good feelings he gives me &amp;amp; then my heart melts. yeah, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he's made me cry enough to hydrate a third world country&lt;/span&gt; but i mean, that's love. love is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;pain&lt;/span&gt;, love is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;hurt&lt;/span&gt;, but it's also &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;replenishing&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; makes you feel a little closer to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;heaven&lt;/span&gt;. i can talk about him all day, everyone knows. i say his name more than i've said mine throughout my entire existance.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt; if he ever cried, i'd cry twice&lt;/span&gt;. whatever he needs he knows i'm right here, no matter what he does i still remain the wife. he's made me look at life through a whole new perspective. as much as i've complained, cried, said &amp;amp; did things out of anger -- the truth still remains that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i love that man with every breath in my body&lt;/span&gt;. i could never feel this way about any other person on this earth or the entire universe for that matter. i know we're still young but even he says, "how are we 21 &amp;amp; 22 &amp;amp; like this?" our love is a gift from god, i believe. if everything happens for a reason, he's in my life for a higher purpose &amp;amp; i intend to keep him here &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;until my heart stops pumping -- &amp;amp; even then, his love will be the strength that pulls me off my feet &amp;amp; into the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;besides all the "love" shit, we have a higher understanding. i mean, why go through all the bullshit with somebody else? we're made for each other. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;when all love runs out, we'll still have understanding, loyalty, trust, &amp;amp; compatibility&lt;/span&gt;. life is hard enough, but at least we have each other to rely on. ALRIGHT! i'm done, seriously. enough rambling about me &amp;amp; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;theloveofmylife&lt;/span&gt;. haha, jus had to throw that last bit in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;PEACE to babylove&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-5461543323133938577?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/5461543323133938577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/sex-city.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/5461543323133938577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/5461543323133938577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/sex-city.html' title='-- sex &amp; the CITY.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-9153130351052661905</id><published>2009-03-21T17:43:00.025-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T16:19:59.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- houstatlantavegas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he's just &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;stuck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in. . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;we all got &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; we all start &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;reaching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; //&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i give you my all &amp;amp; the next morning you'll &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;forget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;who, or why, or how, or when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tonight is probably about to happen&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; all over again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cause he lives in a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;mindset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that i could &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; move to;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;until you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; yourself, it's &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;impossible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to lose you --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;because i &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; had you. . .although i would be glad to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i'll probably go &amp;amp; tattoo. . .your &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on my heart;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i swear - i start - to think - that i'm going&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-9153130351052661905?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/9153130351052661905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/houstatlantavegas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/9153130351052661905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/9153130351052661905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/houstatlantavegas.html' title='-- houstatlantavegas.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-6689138568672952208</id><published>2009-03-19T17:47:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T14:26:13.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- bored.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;yo yo yo, waddup?! shit chillin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;well i`m stuck here at work, i took the day off yesterday to go shopping with &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;yessenia &amp;amp; rana; layla, sienna, &amp;amp; jonathan&lt;/span&gt; tagged along. bad ass kids, except &lt;strong&gt;layla&lt;/strong&gt; of course cause she's a baby, baby. my plans were to buy a new phone -- the LG dare from verizon, &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;to buy an expensive bag&lt;/span&gt; (because i feel like it, &lt;strong&gt;bitch&lt;/strong&gt;) &amp;amp; just to spend money basically. none of that shit got done because i was basically just following these broads around. i did, however, purchase some nice &lt;strong&gt;gucci frames&lt;/strong&gt; at the store. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315104961536263698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/ScMLzUhJBhI/AAAAAAAAABA/ww4iIAqcvRg/s320/IMG00435.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the salesman was italian &amp;amp; he was gassing meeeeeee. whew. i know that's hit job since he gets paid off commission but i was eating that shit up. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he's probably the reason i bought that exact pair of shades&lt;/span&gt;, he said they were his favorites, lol! that's gotta be the truth though because the ones i wanted were $495 &amp;amp; the ones i bought were actually $295 so i doubt he'd lie &amp;amp; want me to buy the cheaper pair. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;these are the &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;dolce &amp;amp; gabbana&lt;/span&gt; shades i broke; =( i`ma get em fixed though, a screw just fell out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315107509673507218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/ScMOHpEZuZI/AAAAAAAAABI/SdrgR_3VLRo/s320/IMG000141-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i had to lie to my moms about it LMFAO! she hates when i spend money on that kinda stuff because she swears it's a waste. honestly, everything i own that's about $200+ didn't come from my pocket. all of my designer shit like bags, belts, etc. came from &lt;strong&gt;other people&lt;/strong&gt; as gifts or whatever. so i told her yessenia had store credit &amp;amp; i charged $50 on my card. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;WHATEVAAA, 'least i`m looking fly&lt;/span&gt;. i want this gucci hobo bag, it's $1350 but i`ma get dana to apply her double discount at saks to it. hopefulle i get it a LOT cheaper; i know nobody else is gonna buy it for me; =(. i seen &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;will.i.am&lt;/span&gt; in the gucci store; =. he was dropping stacks on his girlfriend or whatever she was. i wasn't star struck, fuck that nigga. I GOT MONEY TOO, BITCH! rodney called me &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;materialistic&lt;/span&gt; yesterday too, smh! he's been making all these half ass assumptions lately. it just goes to show 4 years, &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;times means nothing without effort&lt;/span&gt;. i've been beginning to realize that he does &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; know me, who i am as a character like deep down. oh well, i am who i am let him keep assuming. he'll get to see for himself -- &lt;em&gt;eventually&lt;/em&gt;. smh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i`m talking to zayna right now on AIM. there's supposed to be dinner at her house tonight but it'll be a really late one because a friend of the family's in the hospital &amp;amp; everyone went to see him. he's really young, early 20's. he's been in a coma for a couple of weeks now &amp;amp; doctor's don't know what's wrong with him; =/. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;holy crap, she jus said they unplugged him at 5pm&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-6689138568672952208?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/6689138568672952208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/bored.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/6689138568672952208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/6689138568672952208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/bored.html' title='-- bored.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/ScMLzUhJBhI/AAAAAAAAABA/ww4iIAqcvRg/s72-c/IMG00435.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-765424642252984996</id><published>2009-03-17T19:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:55:08.265-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- random.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this family is &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fucked&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;that's all for now. i'll post&lt;/span&gt; later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-765424642252984996?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/765424642252984996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/random.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/765424642252984996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/765424642252984996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/random.html' title='-- random.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-8051120231405699578</id><published>2009-03-14T00:33:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T19:53:43.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- spring BREAK?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;DON'T EVEN BOTHER READING THIS POST, srsly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i already started off on the wrong foot. . .i was arguing all day. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i'm tired of being lied to -- or at least feeling like i'm being lied to.&lt;/span&gt; son, he actually called my phone yelling at me at 12am -- forrreal? that's 4 &amp;amp; a half years of being with somebody &amp;amp; them never yelling at you. coincidentally, the first time he yelled at me was last week &amp;amp; again today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i'm not even going to repeat what he said besides him saying, ". . .then dead me." i guess, kid. all i said was, "i can't talk right now, i have nothing to say to you" he said whatever &amp;amp; i hung up. i shot him back a text 5 minutes later letting him know i'm not the type to sit around &amp;amp; be yelled at by him, i'm going on a break -- i'll hit you up next monday. . .&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;so here we go. 12:39am our first day apart.&lt;/span&gt; we'll see how long this shit lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i keep checking my sidekick but it keeps blinking green. i'm actually on the brink of tears as i sit here but i mean, shit isn't even worth it fam. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i've cried enough to hydrate a third world country.&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; for what? i remember the first time i cried in front of him, it touched him so deeply. said &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he'd never do it again but that was the biggest lie to date.&lt;/span&gt; now when i cry, he ignores it or tells me to shut up because i'm annoying. LOL? yeah, i don't do that anymore; not in front of him, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he's spending the night as his cousins, probably the weekend. that's where he goes to drink, smoke &amp;amp; just be dumb. he said he'd call me tonight but that's obviously out of the window now. he actually had the nerve to blame it on me for taking a nap. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;we're just fucked up.&lt;/span&gt; i've turned into some &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;psycho paranoid chick.&lt;/span&gt; ME! Aaliyah Carmen Nieves, i think my ancestors just turned over in their graves, man. i told him straight up that it's gotten so sad that &lt;em&gt;i question &lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt; he tells me.&lt;/em&gt; i don't know if it's me, him, or everyone else just in my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this shit is eating at me hard body. i'm "fine" now but as soon as i lay down to sleep i'm gonna shut down. i don't know where to turn, either. everytime i open my mouth to somebody it's, "i told you" or "yeah, you're right. leave him." &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;the fuck am i supposed to do?&lt;/span&gt; even if i turn around &amp;amp; try deading it, he'll keep going. &lt;strong&gt;nothing will every change.&lt;/strong&gt; i got Joe Budden on repeat, &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;"i couldn't help it."&lt;/span&gt; i guess that's what's keep my sane. i hate that every fucking blog is about this kid. it just goes to show that &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he is my LIFE&lt;/span&gt; -- the good &amp;amp; the bad. he controls my every thought, every move, just everything. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;there's not one breathe i inhale without me consuming a piece of him with it &amp;amp; everytime i exhale it's like i lost a tiny piece of myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i'm definitely not going to sleep tonight. we have a dinner tomorrow at my house, everybody's coming. i hate putting that &lt;strong&gt;fake smile&lt;/strong&gt; on when i just feel like breaking down. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i go insane within the four walls of my room but at the same time, i never want to leave.&lt;/span&gt; i don't know what i'm supposed to do. i have all my midterms the week i come back, papers &amp;amp; projects to do. i thought a break between me &amp;amp; him would at least let me focus on studying but &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;how can i focus on anything when he IS my focus?&lt;/span&gt; it's one thing to think about him all the time when everything's great but imagine how bad my head is when we're fucked up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;my phone's still blinking green. fuck it. i can't help but think this is all my fault for letting shit get to me, but at the same time he's just as fucked up. we're stuck, we always have been. they say once a quiet man shouts -- you got him. i'm told to see him yelling at me as a sealed deal, that he's mine. what type of &lt;strong&gt;fucked up&lt;/strong&gt; logic is that? i pushed him away, i fucked up so bad that it took him out of his comfort zone &amp;amp; completely lashed out on me. then again, his actions over the past few months are just foul. they don't add up whatsoever. i hate that i see everything through every single differet perspective, i guess that's the lawyer in me. maybe &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i'm just bipolar, a manic depressive?&lt;/span&gt; who knows. . .even health wise i've been declining. add another thing onto the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i don't even know how to feel right now, i'm completely stoic, &lt;strong&gt;indifferent&lt;/strong&gt; almost. i think i'm done typing for now. don't know what i'm going to do the rest of the time i'm up. most likely, i'm just gonna stare at the ceiling, drowning in my thoughts &amp;amp; my tears. some fucked up shit, right? GOD! i'm doneeeeeeeee. this isn't me, i'm snapping out of it. i hope nobody read this, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;×&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"we had a beautiful relationship at one point;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;but then that shit changed with the quickness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;now this is how you know we go through phases."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-8051120231405699578?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/8051120231405699578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/8051120231405699578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/8051120231405699578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-break.html' title='-- spring BREAK?'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-1151333650899859627</id><published>2009-03-09T19:37:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T01:18:30.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- overwhelmed! .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;» &amp;amp; he goes a little somethin' like this !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;*marido;× (3/8/2009 5:22:01 PM): Kourtney is dumb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;*marido;× (3/8/2009 5:22:13 PM): Ild fuck duud up for cheating on her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;*marido;× (3/8/2009 5:22:25 PM): Shorty has a petite body like yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;*marido;× (3/8/2009 5:22:43 PM): N a big armanian booty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;for her size&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;*marido;× (3/8/2009 5:22:47 PM): Reminds me of you kid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOLOL -- yeah, that's RODNEY watching the kardashians. at least he thinks of me! dang. so, today was a busy, busy day. my legal research &amp;amp; writing class was long as hell. we had to hit up the law library, yet again, for another group assignment. i`m still in the same group; me, syliva, jennifer &amp;amp; this nigga omar. sylvia wasn't in today, she said she was gonna e-mail the professor our work from last week. we go up to the library whatever whatever &amp;amp; i basically found everything -- &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;OF COURSE&lt;/span&gt;! i slid everything to omar so he can type up. that's word to me that nigga does nothing but this time he stepped up so his name could actually appear on the work lol! i told him where i found everything, what i did &amp;amp; a summary of what to write &amp;amp; then BOUNCED. i don't have time to explaining this simple stuff. i think he got mad though since i jus left him, haha! oh well, that's what jennifer's for -- shorty has way more patience than me. MIDTERM -- 3/28 open book; =).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next! i had my pointless science class. i fell asleep while alex was talking to me. he pulled out his blackberry when he realized i wasn't paying him any attention &amp;amp; played MLB lmfao white boys &amp;amp; baseball yo. after that, i hit up the cafeteria to eat some pizza. my plan was to call &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;KIARA &lt;3&lt;/span&gt; on my brizzeak since i had an hour but yooooo! i made eye contact w one of jannarys' friends &amp;amp; she was like, "ohmygod, girl!" &amp;amp; sat next to me; =. i mean, i`m not anti-social but dang I KNOW she seen me try to avoid her. she sat there rambling about her ex-boyfriend &amp;amp; what not. every other word was, "girl" literally. "girl, afhsioehfiehf. girl, fsiuhfieshf, girl! girl GIRL girl". &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;SHUT THE HECK UP!&lt;/span&gt; i kept saying, "i gotta go soon" &amp;amp; stuff like that but shorty did not catch the hint, the sad thing is -- i don't know her name. jannarys introduced us last semester but i mean c'mon, am i really gonna remember? she was tryna get me to feed her compliments, mang. you know how girls be like, "oh, i`m so ugly, i`m overweight, you're PERECT omg i wish i had you're body, you're so pretty" -- knowing that they say is just so you can compliment them back. all i said was thanks. LOL df i look like giving sympathy comments? anywho -- now my &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;shawtyslimthuglovemelongtimeforfiedollamo&lt;/span&gt; is mad at me cause i never answer her calls. everybody knows i don't pick up my phone. i'll make it up to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i fell asleep in my health &amp;amp; sports class too. i heard everything shorty was saying though, like phosphorus is a macronutrient or something. who cares! i eat what i eat, nigga. that midterm is also 3/28. i need to get my nails doneeeeeee. i`ma cut 'em real short. hanging around jannarys had me keeping them long. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;it's either i have ADHD or a lot on my mind.&lt;/span&gt; aw, snaps! i have to start filing my divorce papers. lol, for class. relax. i also have to meet up w these hoes sylvia &amp;amp; jennifer wednesday 3:30 like we always do whenever we get group assignments. AY DIOS -- even on my day off i`m on campus; =(. mary anne (my boss) had me doing mad remedial stuff today, as usual. she think's everything's so difficult so she gives it to me. shorty overwhelms herself. well, i promised myself i'ma start making outlines so i can start studying for my midterms so i'll hit this blog up later. PAYCE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;×&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i got a call that i just ignored; my day's hectic. i`m overwhelmed w thoughts, leave a message."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-1151333650899859627?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/1151333650899859627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/overwhelmed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/1151333650899859627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/1151333650899859627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/overwhelmed.html' title='-- overwhelmed! .'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-6341491506041389891</id><published>2009-03-08T18:15:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T18:49:37.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>-- POISON.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;annoyed. . .as usual. i mean, srsly why am i always in a bad mood? i`m surrounding by nothing but negativity; yet i`m the one who's called out as being "negative". RODNEY is number one on my hitlist. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;fuckshitassbitch&lt;/span&gt;; our relationship has never been as bad as it is now. all he says is, "we're growing" -- no the fuck we aren't. we're stuck because he's selifsh, self-centered, &amp;amp; prideful. he's been on my ass for the last month asking me for the same thing. I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT. all he does is push, man. he's annoying me. i've said it more than once, &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;all this bullshti outweighs any positive that comes out of our relationship.&lt;/span&gt; he wants to go to college &amp;amp; buy a house. . .sound good, right? wrong. he wants to have parties all day, everyday so he can sm0ke &amp;amp; drink while he's in school. grow the fuck up. we have the same damn arguements EVERYDAY. just because my occupation is based on arguing a case, doesn't mean i want to come home &amp;amp; argue too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've tried every approach; staying quiet, ignoring, playing along, explaining, asking him nicely, nothing ever works. i'm so sick of this relationship. he doesn't even try to make me happy. he wakes up in the morning &amp;amp; says, "hm, what can i do to make aaliyah mad today?" -- literally. i've done everything his mind had conjured up to ask for.&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt; i am the female in the this relationship; i shouldn't have to do shit.&lt;/span&gt; i've been playing the part of a wife for 4 years &amp;amp; he's been playing himself; the asshole. he's only acts right when he wants something. sick shit, right? we break up every 3 hours or so. the only way he'll come out here is "if i find an apartment for him &amp;amp; get him out here" YESSIR ladies &amp;amp; gentleman, that's what comes out of his mouth. i'm supposed to be the lucky one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the other day he says, "aaliyah, give me advice". i tell him what to do &amp;amp; what not to do on a CONSTANT basis. i'm not even a bitch about it. it's always, baby this, baby that. he's the biggest hypocrite on the face of this earth. everything i open my mouth it's, "here she goes". he's placed me in that "all you women" category. niggaaaaaa, i have people compliment me on the daily on how chill i am, how smart i am, understanding, all this other shit. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he really does not know me.&lt;/span&gt; according to him i run my mouth about nothing, complain, am sensitive, selfish, a hypocrite, negative. fuck outta here, kid. i don't even get mad when he says these things because we both know he's talking shit. his own mother tells him to not disrespect me, treat me right, hold on to her. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i really can't take much of this anymore&lt;/span&gt;. i'm not innocent but at least i'm real enough to admit shit. but to him, i "hold grudges". holding grudges to him means me being upset because something isn't resolved. lol? but he's the one always brining up resolved shit from the past. i mean shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate to say it but he's like a poison in my veins. i guess he's like therapy for cancer, in a sense. he literally injects poison into my system in order to "rid me of a disease." i don't get it, i honestly don't. i'm looked down upon, my character has been damaged all because i choose to stand by his side. everyone says i need to let go but i'm not a quitter. i've tried everything yo. suggested taking a break but nah, he doesn't see it like that. he flips everything &amp;amp; manipulates every situation. i can catch his dick in another female &amp;amp; then he'll turn the situation on me &amp;amp; turn me into the bad guy. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;i love him to death, he means the world to me -- i just don't know how much more i can take.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-6341491506041389891?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/6341491506041389891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/poison.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/6341491506041389891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/6341491506041389891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/poison.html' title='-- POISON.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-684629645187706495</id><published>2009-03-04T16:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T16:08:01.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-- my mind's gone ½ crazy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;» currently on the phone w &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;Noah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. ×&lt;br /&gt;i`ma sum up last nights events by the time this phone conversation finishes. SO! i spoke to Pablo last night about my current situation. i gave him the background &amp;amp; asked for his insight. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;bad, bad news&lt;/span&gt;; =/. he just kept proving my point &amp;amp; kept telling me to do exactly what's been dwelling in the back of my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; called me last night but we both were out of it. he was high &amp;amp; i was half asleep plus his phone was acting up. i thought he was tryna tell me something but when i asked him to repeat it, it wasn't bad. &lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;"you're a beautiful person inside &amp;amp; out, i don't want you to think i`m taking advantage of you, you're my wife"&lt;/span&gt;. which CLEARLY deaded all the bad things that were building up for the last month; =(. i don't know how to go about the situation. i love him so much that anything he says can dead the beef. i'll present to him a proven fact &amp;amp; then he'll speak his peace &amp;amp; everything is out the window. i`m not easily manipulated or swayed -- i`m studying to become a lawyer for god's sake. it's "&lt;span style="color:#f52887;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;". i'll just keep using that excuse bc it's the only one everyone seems to deem justified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i mean take into account that everytime he calls, i`m half asleep. i`m not in my right mind to say everything that needs to be said. we just need to have a planned one-on-one so i can let him know the deal. BLAH i don't wanna keep rambling out relationship problems. i was never that female.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;¦i`m being vague for a reason -- i don't know whether i`ma keep this public or private.¦&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;×&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#f52887;"&gt;"i say i`ma leave but i say i don't believe me. . ."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-684629645187706495?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/684629645187706495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-minds-gone-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/684629645187706495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/684629645187706495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-minds-gone-crazy.html' title='-- my mind&apos;s gone ½ crazy.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646535965264315482.post-7872077559017916101</id><published>2009-03-02T20:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:15:27.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>-- UNDERCONSTRUCTION.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;» underconstruction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;wrd. welll, i`m not sure how to work this here blogspot joint just yet. HONESTLY -- i`ma probably &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; learn; so unless you plan on helping, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;shut the hell up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;! i've finally decided on creating a blog. i don't know if i`ma keep this public or private either. i`m getting my laptop by the end of this week hopefully so i'll be able to update this frequently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4646535965264315482-7872077559017916101?l=new-york-ish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/feeds/7872077559017916101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/underconstruction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/7872077559017916101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4646535965264315482/posts/default/7872077559017916101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://new-york-ish.blogspot.com/2009/03/underconstruction.html' title='-- UNDERCONSTRUCTION.'/><author><name>newyorkish</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14764942657897406710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKbpiCk6GMk/Sb7JQ7X9vMI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HzhJbgqhKYI/S220/v5k0fn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
