<?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-7206757851805629519</id><updated>2012-01-20T01:49:11.137-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Breathe</title><subtitle type='html'>Have you ever felt like you just wanted to take a deep breath and just exhale all the tension in your mind?  Like you just want to say everything you've been thinking in your head so that you can move past it?  Like you want to Just Breathe?....Me too.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-4056003697494366306</id><published>2012-01-20T01:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T01:49:11.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody Out There??!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Does anybody feel the way I feel right now?&amp;#160; I have never felt so much pain until tonight.&amp;#160; The words I heard tonight felt like someone took a butcher knife and stabbed me endlessly in the chest.&amp;#160; What's left??&amp;#160; Sheer existance... the love is gone, the respect is gone...what's left??&amp;#160; I feel like someone stripped away my clothing and then stripped away even my skin.&amp;#160;&amp;#160; I feel like I've been stripped naked and now I'm being looked at with such disgrace... such hatred... such disgust... is imperfection punishable?&amp;#160; &lt;br&gt;Consider me officially punished.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-4056003697494366306?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/4056003697494366306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/anybody-out-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4056003697494366306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4056003697494366306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/anybody-out-there.html' title='Anybody Out There??!'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-6220801159517011950</id><published>2012-01-19T22:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T22:27:33.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rescue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Loneliness is the saddest feeling.&amp;#160; I wouldn't wish it on anyone.&amp;#160; I miss the days when everything was so much simpler.&amp;#160; I miss being around all the people that love me.&amp;#160; I fee like right now I'm not around anyone that loves me.&amp;#160; I'm surrounded by hate and bitterness, and it makes my heart ache.&amp;#160; I feel like I'm being attacked, but I have no idea why.&amp;#160; Some people are just so bitter.&amp;#160; And the sad part about it is that the bitterness is so deeply ingrained that they can't even notice it.&amp;#160; Loneliness... its that feeling when you just wish there was somebody that came up behind you in your deepest darkest moment and hugged u tight and whispered in your ear, "Everythings gonna be alright."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-6220801159517011950?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/6220801159517011950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/rescue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/6220801159517011950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/6220801159517011950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/rescue.html' title='Rescue'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-4869797008027316147</id><published>2012-01-18T21:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T21:16:01.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Worn Out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today it became clear to me what I somewhat already knew:&amp;#160; that I'm a very cheerful, playful person.&amp;#160; Being around people who are serious and bitter is not a good match for me.&amp;#160; I hate feeling restricted from everything I want to do, big or small.&amp;#160; Why do I have to have a strategy for carrying out the simplest things?&amp;#160; The very things that interest me and excite me, are nothing but irritating to others, like a gnat in the eyes.&amp;#160; Don't do this, don't do that, don't say this, don't say that... I feel so restricted, like I'm a teenager all over again!&amp;#160; Turn the lights off! Don't take a bath, take a shower!&amp;#160; Why is the milk running out too fast?!&amp;#160; Constant fussing!&amp;#160; Simple topics of conversation: Back in my high school days...Don't talk about it!&amp;#160; All these rules!&amp;#160; And just like a 17 year old, there's not very much I can do about anything.&amp;#160; I don't even have a car!&amp;#160; It seems like the times that I laugh the most are when I'm playing with my kids.&amp;#160; Help!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-4869797008027316147?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/4869797008027316147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/worn-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4869797008027316147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4869797008027316147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2012/01/worn-out.html' title='Worn Out!'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-294243038170426819</id><published>2011-01-24T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T21:13:05.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="title fn" style="color: #0b2943; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, Times; font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px; text-align: left;"&gt;My Life&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="poet_name" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;© Lil Mafia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="poem_style" style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', Times, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 1px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px;"&gt;The things I've seen will scar me for life,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;growing up I seen wrong and very little of right,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I hear a sad song and tears roll down my face,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I look in the mirror and feel so out of place,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I don't want to become something larger than life,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I want to become something real and so right,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;do they understand am I understood,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;can life be better I wish that it could,&amp;nbsp;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;before I make a decision I always think twice,&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;they say what can I do to help you feel better&amp;nbsp;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I say nothing because this is my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-294243038170426819?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/294243038170426819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/294243038170426819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/294243038170426819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-life.html' title='My Life'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-4526484116545531269</id><published>2011-01-24T21:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T21:00:24.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="title fn" style="color: #0b2943; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, Times; font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px; text-align: left;"&gt;The Game&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="poet_name" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;© Susan Christensen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="poem_style" style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', Times, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 1px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 1px;"&gt;Let me tell you about a game I play&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Where I close my eyes and fade away&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I float away to a special place&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Beyond the stars and moon and space&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;In this special place you see&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;There are only two people - just you and me&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;In this place, all is right&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;Nothing but love, and we never fight&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;In this place, there is no sadness&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;No cells, no courts, none of that madness&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;No rules to follow, no laws to break&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;No bars to hold us or separate&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;No one to tell us we can't kiss or touch&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I don't just tell you "I love you" - I show you how much&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;But eventually the game must end&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;My eyes must open, and reality sets in&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;But someday soon - I'm not sure when&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;I will close my eyes and play my game again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-4526484116545531269?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/4526484116545531269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4526484116545531269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4526484116545531269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/game.html' title='The Game'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-429513802560433071</id><published>2011-01-23T19:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T19:09:34.964-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats Next?</title><content type='html'>People keep asking me what my plan is. &amp;nbsp;The truth is, I don't have a plan. &amp;nbsp;How do you plan for everything to fall apart? &amp;nbsp;I miss him. &amp;nbsp;I wish he could just change. &amp;nbsp;Become nice, do all that a man is supposed to do...treat a woman like a queen, not worst than a dog. &amp;nbsp;I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. &amp;nbsp;When I try to think about it, first I get excited, then I get frustrated. &amp;nbsp;Its the same cycle over and over again. &amp;nbsp;Whats next?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-429513802560433071?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/429513802560433071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/whats-next.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/429513802560433071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/429513802560433071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/whats-next.html' title='Whats Next?'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-3679003916363888162</id><published>2011-01-15T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T11:40:50.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Too Deep</title><content type='html'>How do people become so mean? &amp;nbsp;What makes them so hateful? &amp;nbsp;Why is it that right when everything is going so well, thats when everything comes crashing down? &amp;nbsp;I am so unbelievably lonely. &amp;nbsp;I miss my family, I wish I had friends to hang out with. &amp;nbsp;Now its just me. &amp;nbsp;The one best friend I had completely betrayed me. &amp;nbsp;He was supposed to be my protector, not my&amp;nbsp;assaulter. &amp;nbsp;How could he just let me down like this? &amp;nbsp;I really loved him. &amp;nbsp;Now I'm just afraid. &amp;nbsp;Afraid of him. &amp;nbsp;Afraid of seeing him. &amp;nbsp;Afraid of talking to him. &amp;nbsp;His loss, not mine, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-3679003916363888162?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/3679003916363888162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/in-too-deep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/3679003916363888162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/3679003916363888162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2011/01/in-too-deep.html' title='In Too Deep'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-4735519708974105330</id><published>2010-12-17T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T21:04:30.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always?</title><content type='html'>Will it always be like this? Its so tragic that the only way to peace is through the disappearance of my voice. &amp;nbsp;I feel like I can't say what I don't like. &amp;nbsp;And why do I have to constantly be belittled and picked on? &amp;nbsp;It hurts so bad. &amp;nbsp;I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs, but if I do everything will fall apart. &amp;nbsp;I feel like I will eventually lose myself......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-4735519708974105330?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/4735519708974105330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/always.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4735519708974105330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/4735519708974105330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/always.html' title='Always?'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-2546524059084695247</id><published>2010-12-11T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T22:32:26.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Devastation</title><content type='html'>How can it be possible to be so hurt? &amp;nbsp;How can one person hurt me to the depths of my very soul and not even give a second thought about it? &amp;nbsp;I feel like a woman scorned. &amp;nbsp;Its like I can't even live. &amp;nbsp;I pray constantly for a calmness that I know God can give. &amp;nbsp;But for some reason he doesn't hear me. &amp;nbsp;Have I been completely abandoned? &amp;nbsp;Even by the creator himself? &amp;nbsp;Life gets so much harder each day. &amp;nbsp;And I don't know how to make it better. &amp;nbsp;I've lost the strength that I once had. &amp;nbsp;I used to think that people had a heart for humanity. &amp;nbsp;Seeing someone left destitute should automatically strike a nerve in any human being especially if they are related. &amp;nbsp;But I have no one. &amp;nbsp;I have nothing. &amp;nbsp;And now life seems so very hopeless. &amp;nbsp;No one has room for me. &amp;nbsp;No one has time for me. &amp;nbsp;No one has anything to offer me. &amp;nbsp;People always say, "Have some self respect. &amp;nbsp;Have standards." &amp;nbsp;So why is it that when I tried that, I got ran over by a heartless 18-wheeler truck going 100 mph? &amp;nbsp;What is the answer? &amp;nbsp;People just tell me, "Well as long as you are safe....". &amp;nbsp;Safe? &amp;nbsp;Is that all that matters in this world? &amp;nbsp;Safety? &amp;nbsp;Is it safe to be this alone and devastated? &amp;nbsp;Is it safe to be left abandoned with no hope for the future? &amp;nbsp;Life is quickly moving along, and I feel like I'm just being dragged along kicking and screaming at the bottom, caught between the wheels, and no one even knows I'm there. &amp;nbsp;I used to think I was undefeatable. &amp;nbsp;How is it possible for one person to hurt me so very badly, and yet all I want is just for everything to just be back to normal, with that person still here? &amp;nbsp;Self respect? &amp;nbsp;I've given up on that. &amp;nbsp;Standards? &amp;nbsp;Strength? &amp;nbsp;Nonexistent. &amp;nbsp;I don't know where to go. &amp;nbsp;I don't know what to do. &amp;nbsp;Do I really have a choice? &amp;nbsp;Every hope I thought I had has been shattered. &amp;nbsp;I should feel pretty. &amp;nbsp;I should feel sexy. &amp;nbsp;I don't even feel like life is worth living. &amp;nbsp;Everyday that comes is just another notion of bad news to come. &amp;nbsp;I feel like I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and no one can hear me. &amp;nbsp;I wish I could just disappear. &amp;nbsp;Nobody would even notice. &amp;nbsp;One less space on this earth that was wasted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-2546524059084695247?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/2546524059084695247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/devastation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/2546524059084695247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/2546524059084695247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/devastation.html' title='Devastation'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-205922052834861191</id><published>2010-12-07T23:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T23:09:43.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarity</title><content type='html'>In the last 24 hours my life has taken an unexpected turn for the worse. &amp;nbsp;I have cried harder in the last 24 hours than I have ever cried in my entire life. &amp;nbsp;I have lost all faith in the heart of humanity. &amp;nbsp;I used to always think that everyone has a heart deep inside, even if they are too prideful to show it. &amp;nbsp;I used to think that certain people are not capable of certain things. &amp;nbsp;And now everything has turned completely upside down. &amp;nbsp;I have been left destitute. &amp;nbsp;Completely destitute. &amp;nbsp;I was much better off before I ever opened my heart to anybody. &amp;nbsp;I used to think that everybody opens their heart to at least one person in their life. &amp;nbsp;Now I think that is a bunch of nonsense. &amp;nbsp;I will never trust anyone ever again. &amp;nbsp;Today I vow to never let anybody get inside my heart ever again. &amp;nbsp;Someone once asked me why I like caterpillars so much. &amp;nbsp;I told them I wasn't really sure, except for the fact that I used to love them when I was little. &amp;nbsp;And do you know what they said? &amp;nbsp;They said I am that caterpillar and pretty soon I will blossom into a beautiful butterfly. &amp;nbsp;Yes it probably sounds so cheesy. &amp;nbsp;But it meant something to me, and it stuck with me. &amp;nbsp;I will never be in this situation ever again. &amp;nbsp;Just consider me morning mist that disappears by noon. &amp;nbsp;You won't find me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-205922052834861191?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/205922052834861191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/clarity_07.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/205922052834861191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/205922052834861191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/12/clarity_07.html' title='Clarity'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-5532666081242737073</id><published>2010-11-30T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T00:37:37.747-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaaarrrrgh!</title><content type='html'>It is so not fair how a person can just make a decision, beg me to go along with it, and once I go along with it, tuning my whole mind set to support that decision, changes their mind and says they don't think its a good idea. &amp;nbsp;Am I a rag doll that can just be dragged around at anybody's random whim? &amp;nbsp;I'm so confused. &amp;nbsp;Is it a power struggle that is happening here? &amp;nbsp;Do they just want to remind themselves that they can still control me? &lt;br /&gt;And if two people are discussing their differing opinions, why does one have to take drastic action and give it all up, instead of hearing the potential compromise the other is willing to make? &amp;nbsp;Another power struggle perhaps? &amp;nbsp;You may not understand me, and maybe I make no sense whatsoever. &amp;nbsp;But maybe its because I am so frustrated and confused. &amp;nbsp;How can one person be so hard to get along with? &amp;nbsp;How can one person find the most simplest things about me to be so completely confusing? &lt;br /&gt;Questions.....so many questions.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-5532666081242737073?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/5532666081242737073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/11/aaaaaarrrrgh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/5532666081242737073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/5532666081242737073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/11/aaaaaarrrrgh.html' title='Aaaaaarrrrgh!'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7206757851805629519.post-333261900713097767</id><published>2010-11-29T02:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T02:51:58.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road to Recovery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #5c5d57; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Lately I feel like I'm going through this weird transformation. &amp;nbsp;Its like lately I've started to feel like I can completely handle everything by myself, while I used to think that was the scariest thing ever. &amp;nbsp;But then tonight I started to think about all these things from the past, and its like all of a sudden everything just started coming back...all the pain, all the frustration, all the hurt and disappointment. &amp;nbsp;I get so irritated and mad when a situation is so unfair and theres nothing I can do to change it. &amp;nbsp;It feels so hopeless. &amp;nbsp;Or when a person has so much potential to be a great person, but refuses to be that person I always knew them to be. &amp;nbsp;Why do people have to lead you to believe they are one way, and then later they turn into someone completely different? &amp;nbsp;Why can't people be consistent? &amp;nbsp;I must sound like a hypocrite. &amp;nbsp;I feel like a different person everyday. &amp;nbsp;But I'm really starting to feel like this is my own way of finally dealing with a messed up situation, and healing all the wounds that have caused me so much hurt and pain. &amp;nbsp;I'm a little relieved. &amp;nbsp;I've always viewed myself as a strong person, &amp;nbsp;but lately I began to think I had lost that strength, and that ability to mindlessly "get over" things that got in my way of being who I truly want to be. &amp;nbsp;But in the last couple of days, I have found myself finding humor and excitement in some of the most painful and pitiful things. &amp;nbsp;Its so liberating. &amp;nbsp;I am beginning to see a future for myself, when I thought that was something I lost a long time ago. &amp;nbsp;Now I am starting to remember who I really am. &amp;nbsp;I am starting to remember the person I am striving to be. &amp;nbsp;And part of the person I am striving to be is a little selfish. &amp;nbsp;But one thing I've learned is that some part of happiness depends on rewarding yourself with a little selfishness once in a while. &amp;nbsp;I know what I want, I know what I like, and for a long time I had forgotten that. &amp;nbsp;I had been living vicariously through someone else, and adopting their likes and dislikes, and forgetting my own wants, likes, and desires. &amp;nbsp;Now it has begun to come back to me slowly. &amp;nbsp;A new road is ahead of me. &lt;br /&gt;I learned a cool new quote today too: &amp;nbsp;"You've already made your decision....Don't blink now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7206757851805629519-333261900713097767?l=butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/feeds/333261900713097767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/11/road-to-recovery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/333261900713097767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7206757851805629519/posts/default/333261900713097767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butterflyfeelings.blogspot.com/2010/11/road-to-recovery.html' title='Road to Recovery'/><author><name>Beautiful Butterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00253796084048745608</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
