<?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-4128526083690578992</id><updated>2011-07-07T15:07:47.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life - Love it or Hate it</title><subtitle type='html'>whatever goes on my mind that feels better written down</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-271604055163600593</id><published>2010-09-30T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T13:54:29.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how long has it been?</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in a while, maybe its a good time now. School unemployment and friends are all factors that make me really sad. Not having a job and running out of money is not the business, and class omg I'm so sick of school everything is happening to fast. Just last year I was starting college and now I am already going to apply to transfer its like everything is going to move faster and faster now and I can't seem to keep up no matter what I try, maybe I just need to step up my game tho. I can't run, I can barely walk, chasing this seems difficult. Is it bad that I can't seem to hold a stable friendship with anyone? Maybe I should just go mia and dissapear for now. I sorta want to too. I don't like being ignored and I don't like the cold shoulder, I don't like being there and being ignored, I'm a picky person and yes I admit it I hate it but that's how I roll, something is up straight up tell me, I don't like stuff hidden I tell everyone everything to make sure there are no obstacles, I try to ask all my friends to do the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The average person tells 4 lies a day,1460 a year; a total of 87,600 by the age of 60, and the most commin lie is: I'm fine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-271604055163600593?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/271604055163600593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=271604055163600593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/271604055163600593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/271604055163600593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-long-has-it-been.html' title='how long has it been?'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-5704589465871968404</id><published>2010-06-13T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:28:50.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>disbelief</title><content type='html'>Its been over a year and a half and I still feel this pain that bothers me. Its not a physical pain...well thinking of it makes mi heart hurt but its a hella deeply etched mental pain I can't seem to over come. And then you have that one friend that says he will has your back whenever you need but when you need them they are never there. What gives? Sigh I talked about it slightly with other friends but everyone says over time it will get better. Not really or maybe more time? Its consuming me but well see sometime soon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-5704589465871968404?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/5704589465871968404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=5704589465871968404' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5704589465871968404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5704589465871968404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/06/disbelief.html' title='disbelief'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-3672972689162461560</id><published>2010-05-25T15:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:53:28.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>intelligence</title><content type='html'>grades never determined intelligence does it? i hate how everything is tied to how much you have to suck up to the teacher to do well, how you cant just learn what you need to know. i always hated school and it sucks where i am now but i never liked school. currently im lost. i dont know what to do anymore. take a class? mess up? drop out? what happens when i transfer and cant transfer because my grade sucks? nothing is based on pure skill and intelligence anymore. it based on how well you do in school and what good school you went to. google only hires from the best. uc berkeley, stanford, yale, etc etc. so to normal person who has the knowledge to do bigger and better things than a person who went to stanford, why is the stupid good school kid chosen over you? they dont have the skill available to do the thing you were ment to do, they just have a good school name tied to their resume. its because this world is fucked up. maybe thats why i'm lost. again and again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-3672972689162461560?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/3672972689162461560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=3672972689162461560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/3672972689162461560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/3672972689162461560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/05/intelligence.html' title='intelligence'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-5088169162853433420</id><published>2010-05-11T16:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T16:07:32.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>messed up</title><content type='html'>somethings messed up yano?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-5088169162853433420?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/5088169162853433420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=5088169162853433420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5088169162853433420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5088169162853433420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/05/messed-up-family.html' title='messed up'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-348788597951677097</id><published>2010-03-31T00:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T00:50:48.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>phase</title><content type='html'>phase... am i using it correctly? Either way it sounds good. Its 1am right now and there was super heavy rain. it phased me for a second or maybe i dawned on what had happened before, would it be that i be somewhere better had i not made better choices or maybe it will all end up the same way anyways? well whatever just wanted to get my feelings out, and somehow find a way to recover. funny thing is i dont even think its depression, maybe its a phase i need to move out of and find something to take my mind of. thing is what is it? what do i need to do to get out of this phase? to not let it phase me anymore.... its been hurting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-348788597951677097?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/348788597951677097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=348788597951677097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/348788597951677097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/348788597951677097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/03/phase.html' title='phase'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-4553105946826426578</id><published>2010-01-28T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T00:56:40.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>love anyone?</title><content type='html'>maybe all my blog posts are about me complaining about whats wrong with my life, i try to outlook but it doesn't work. i haven't felt this bad in a while, maybe what i did wrong before was getting to attached, and its true. i find myself or maybe its more i fear of being lonely. ive had many close friends leave me and it seems likely the reason. i look everywhere there are all these best friend relationship and friends who hang out all the time rather than hype then after its over it declines to a oh i havent talked to you in a while. and then theres the relationships. sometimes i feel so bad, i never had the experience, is it because im just a friend? or do i look bad to go out with? well who knows the reason but it always feels like there is something missing. they are always there for you, help you overcome your problems and stay with you through thick and thin. be your guardian angel and you be theirs.  but i never dated anyone, bothered to be heartbroken, went through the trouble and happiness of all the times a couple spend together. an empty void that hurts me. everyone always complains oh my girlfriend/boyfriend is so annoying me, she/hes being so stupid or whatever. i take a second to think and all the time i always want to tell them. "your so lucky you at least have someone you can talk to all the time, laugh with and just be there for you" as my philosophy teacher says "falling in love is just reminding your self that you can actually love" first of all how does that feel? im always reminded that im lonely when i go out, especially working. everyone is either married or has a kid and a boyfriend or married and have a boyfriend. and guests that come by thats even worse. pda everywhere and their always like "no theres someone else". sigh guess being this way will suffice. im going to learn how to dance tho. its a passion and watching people enjoy dancing and entertaining people, now its a good feeeeling. to dance away emotions, to release the burdens and embrace happiness like no other. thats how i want to feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will work for love - Usher&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-4553105946826426578?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/4553105946826426578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=4553105946826426578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/4553105946826426578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/4553105946826426578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/01/love-anyone.html' title='love anyone?'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-7888230053145734602</id><published>2010-01-20T00:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T01:01:55.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>so i've must of said this a million times, literally. i'm going to get in shape. LOL that never happened and ever since work i've been expanding, the unlimited soda at work and the unhealthy choices available for me just doesn't cut it. probably waking up at noon everyday doesn't cut it either. well this year is different. hopefully. ok for sure its different. its not i didn't have the will power to do it before but now it seems i have more control of what i do, i don't have to ask my parents for much money any more and with my blackberry i can plan out my day. i love my blackberry and i don't want to ever let it go. anyways back to business part of my new years resolution is to make better choices with my health, personal wealth, personal life, and my school business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;health - obviously im fat and unhealthy and im going to get in shape, and to build up stamina so i can learn the art of moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;personal wealth - for my vegas and la trip with my friend, and also emergency money just incase anything does happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;personal life - with work and school i always seem to spend less and less time with family. i'm going to build a better relationship with my parents, not just have them there as someone i can go to get money or live under their roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school business - im still going to the Walter A. Haas School of Business in Berkeley, if not i'll stop by Irvine. there are requirements tho, i have to do excellent in school to transfer from laney, to show that i am capable and that i am someone who has somewhere to go in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get rich plan. set and ready to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-7888230053145734602?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/7888230053145734602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=7888230053145734602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/7888230053145734602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/7888230053145734602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-3140524106258293417</id><published>2009-12-06T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T00:07:38.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>rain</title><content type='html'>friend:"harry, how come every time we hang out its raining?"&lt;br /&gt;me: "i don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until this day i have never found an answer to this question. i had an answer to why i like the rain, okay maybe several answers but theres only one real answer to this question. today was a good day, i went to go have dim sum with my uncle and auntie and stopped by stoneridge afterwards. after stoneridge we went home and i went to work. it wasn't raining until maybe an hour after i started work and by that time it was pouring and i didn't even bother to move the car and had my usual 30. 3.90 for a kids cheeseburger with fries and a cookie at fuddruckers. good deal for me since i don't really eat that much anyways. well fast forward a few hours and its time to get off work. as i walk to my car on the roof, its raining. shoot i don't have any rain gear. as i exit the garage and get on the freeway, it hit me. the answer to the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"harry how come every time we hang out its raining?" &lt;br /&gt;"its so when i walk outside, no one can see that i'm crying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;side note: Yuluv i still can't believe your leaving, you are one of the coolest managers i've had, and at amc also. lol and also, thanks. i probably will try to work my way up, we'll see. i'll miss you tho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-3140524106258293417?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/3140524106258293417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=3140524106258293417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/3140524106258293417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/3140524106258293417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/12/rain.html' title='rain'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-218022200442813587</id><published>2009-11-15T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T22:48:44.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finally right? i have a job now and i like it. each day i come home tired with aching feet to a relaxing environment knowing that i did something rather than dwell on the past. its something i have been trying to suppress for the longest time and it just keeps coming back. in fact i want to be at work right now, its only so i dont have to think about it. sometimes i wish i could just go to school, go to work and go home to sleep. no drama, and no pain to deal with. but hey this is reality  when will this really happen? everyone at work, i mean employees not guests are friendly and helpful. since im still new i really dont know much, so they are always able to help when i need. guests are not the friendliest tho. i think my co-worker is right, guests dumb down when they go to the theaters and their all either hella nice or hella anal. its always nice to see the guests smile back and say thank you or give a nice friendly gesture. but its hella fucking funny to see anal and stupid retarded guests. its the complaining and the stories that we all have to tell to each other that makes the job fun. hey its shit pay but its an easy job. i like it a lot tho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school is no fun tho, although im doing very well, well considering im passing even though the tests are impossible, but im doing good enough to say im going to pass that classes with flying colors. hopefully my asame teacher, well the substitute doesnt actually read the essays and gives everyone an "a" because its supposed to be an easy class. duh? i think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     It’s a lie to say you have let go of the past.&lt;br /&gt;     Nobody lets go of memories.&lt;br /&gt;     Each tear is an unforgettable memory.&lt;br /&gt;     Each smile is an undeniable mark.&lt;br /&gt;     Each heartbeat is an inerasable sore because really, there is no such thing as forgetting only&lt;br /&gt;     Accepting and changing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always thought that as time passes by, each bad memory will be blocked, and each good memory will be cherished, remembered forever. after this quote i thought about it and all those suppressed feelings, those that i thought i have forgotten, came spilling out, each day i dont have work or school i dwell on what went wrong or why. its something i understood but never accepted. no not even, i dont understand, and i still havent accepted it. a while back during the summer i thought it was gone, gone forever. i was happy when i went to vegas and la. i didnt think about it, all i did was concentrated on how much fun it is, and what i would do with friends when i get back. maybe its school that brings upon bad memories that i havent accepted yet? there is most definitely more than just this memory that is bad, but hey ive accepted it, i have moved on but why cant i accept this one? the thing is that this is all less than one year ago, everything just came crashing down, i dont cry over, the thing is its like some kind of drug, the ones that make you feel like fucking shit all the time. can i accept it anytime soon? hopefully. can i go to work and focus on work instead? hell yea. whens the next time i go to work? i have no fucking idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too bad&lt;br /&gt;bad memories get to stay afloat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-218022200442813587?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/218022200442813587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=218022200442813587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/218022200442813587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/218022200442813587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-know-its-true-what-they-say-about.html' title=''/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-748136720650343021</id><published>2009-10-01T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T23:12:05.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why do we miss a person? It’s either because we realize that we never treasured the moments when they were always there and it left us wishing we could turn back time again. Or we were too happy with them; we enjoyed every single moment that we became so used to the idea of having them around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-748136720650343021?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/748136720650343021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=748136720650343021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/748136720650343021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/748136720650343021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/10/why-do-we-miss-person-its-either.html' title=''/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-2006790658906704717</id><published>2009-09-01T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T00:34:22.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>breaking through.</title><content type='html'>quote by someone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up every morning with a smile on my face pushing aside all misery. I try to think of the good things I have in life. Everyone is different, but everyone feels pain. Yet, we all have those times where we just look up and say thank you because we are lucky enough to be where we are. Girls are brutal and some guys’ break hearts, but that’s just life, and we all have to learn to accept it. If you think about all the downsides of everything you will end up having a terrible day. Stop thinking about it and think about the things you do have. Breathe and tell yourself you’re going to be fine because in the end miracles do happen. It’s going to be hard at times and your going to cry. It’s going to go smoothly at times because nothing went wrong in the day. This is life and what its made up of. Appreciate what you have and don’t live by what you want because that’s not what it’s about. Let the people that most care about you help you through everything because that’s the best thing anyone could ask for. Don’t forget, everything really truly happens for a reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ima keep my head up and see where my journey takes me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-2006790658906704717?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/2006790658906704717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=2006790658906704717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/2006790658906704717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/2006790658906704717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/09/breaking-through.html' title='breaking through.'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-5693502323047350899</id><published>2009-07-03T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T23:45:36.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy endings are stories that haven't been finished yet</title><content type='html'>It’s a dream, and it’s going to come true. My dream is climb to the top of the world, become rich an well known and bring all my good friends and family with me. Its to ensure everyone who stayed with me all these years get what they deserve, to be on top of the world with me. My mind wants you to get nothing, and the other half of me is starting to agree. I thought you would be friends with me; good friends with me till the end. We even told each other that no matter what happens, we would still be good friends. Look at us now, each time I see you name, my smile turns into a frown, my mind clouds with fog on what did I do wrong and made you feel that I’m no good and I was a creeper. Sure I do things out of the ordinary but its what makes me who I am. When you sent that last email it was like taking my heart as a souvenir, or taking it and putting it into a diamond cut shredder, and shredding it into a million tiny little pieces. After that day I never felt the same, it was all like everything fell apart. I bounced back from another friendship with a weak system and yes I admit I was clingy and I acted like a little kid, but you never told me you didn’t like it, you never told me that you felt uncomfortable so I just kept pushing and pursuing. Pursuing information for knowledge, knowledge that can help you accept who you are and stop fucking bitching about it. I thought you liked all of it, all the memories and all of the fun. I had a blast. But it’s all gone. My weak support system, fragile heart is all gone. I don’t want to meet new people, I don’t want to meet new people because I might find them so cool like you where I would use all my resources till its gone. I really thought there was something. No its not homo at all but It hurts. Everything hurts. I can’t think clearly, and every time I see something, or pass by something, because we went all over the world, I get deeply depressed. I know how to suppress my feelings but its been going on too long, I throw on a fake face for everyone because I don’t know who to talk to about it. There’s only one person I told but it was over the phone, he has always been there for me but never in person. Maybe soon we will get to hang out more. The thing is it’s built into me so much to do what I was used to doing, but I can’t detach myself from it nor can I detach my self from it. It hurts to see your name, but I wonder when you’re going to sign on so I can know your safe. I don’t know what to do anymore. Currently it still hurts to live. What will happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t end it, not yet at least, I still have to get to the top of the world and bring people who have been there for me to the top. It’s what keeps me going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-5693502323047350899?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/5693502323047350899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=5693502323047350899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5693502323047350899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/5693502323047350899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-endings-are-stories-that-havent.html' title='happy endings are stories that haven&apos;t been finished yet'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-1946183254536089469</id><published>2009-05-12T23:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:57:23.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>soon.. its nearing</title><content type='html'>as time passes, it gets closer and closer to graduation day, mine is june 12th 2009. shucks to be graduating, im sad but im also happy to be leaving a burdened life and almost completely start over with what knowledge i have. this short speech is from grey's anatomy and i want all my readers to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when comes june 12th, this will be true:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the day my life begins, today i become a citizen of a world, today i become a grown up, today i become accountable to someone other than myself, my parents, accountable for more than my grades, today i become accountable to the world, to the future, to all the possibilities that life has to offer, starting today my job is to show up wide eyed, willing and ready, for what? i have no idea. for anything, for everything to take on life, to take on love, to take on the responsibility and possibility, today my friends my life begins and i for one cant wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and from my former ltg:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you posses.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-1946183254536089469?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/1946183254536089469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=1946183254536089469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/1946183254536089469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/1946183254536089469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/05/soon-its-nearing.html' title='soon.. its nearing'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-6631624477475188437</id><published>2009-05-06T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:23:27.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dwelling</title><content type='html'>i still dwell in the past. the images and reruns of the incident run in my mind every hour of every day. i cant avoid it. its not the accident but the incident. it was a day that went really well but it just happened. i ... no its something i cant get over. someone once said to me any trouble you have is your fault. well its true. if it wasnt for my laziness or my bad judgement i would've have gotten into trouble. nor the other kid in trouble. i never stopped feeling terrible for what i have done and its kills me everyday. sometimes i want it to end. maybe it was ment for me to end it now. especially after i have lost almost everything else...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-6631624477475188437?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/6631624477475188437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=6631624477475188437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/6631624477475188437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/6631624477475188437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwelling.html' title='dwelling'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-7875544648889647832</id><published>2009-05-03T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T23:29:05.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>war.</title><content type='html'>its something that happened and i was happy it happened. things work out the way they should work out because what actions are take. i know my recent actions had led some unhappy things but its all good. everything will fine. i was psyched and happy i get to hang out and all i thought about was having fun and avoiding all my own problems. finally when my problems reach my own table its hard to deal with. but im not going to give up. i fight and even if i lose i will keep fighting for what i believe in. just because i lost the battle doesnt mean i lost the war. because in the end i will win for what i believe in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my realistic goals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finish my lifestyle change i started, by graduation. good bye fat and hello a better and healthy lifestyle (i will post pics up soon)&lt;br /&gt;go to prom&lt;br /&gt;graduate from high school&lt;br /&gt;get my job at att &lt;br /&gt;take classes at laney college and ace them all getting a overall gpa of 4.0&lt;br /&gt;go to berkeley haas school of business my junior year of college&lt;br /&gt;after i graduate,  take classes for the requirements, and take the mcat to transfer into ucsf medical school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and lastly make good of my friends i already have, its people i dont ever want to loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't ever give up on something or someone that you can't go a full day without thinking about"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128526083690578992-7875544648889647832?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/7875544648889647832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=7875544648889647832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/7875544648889647832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/7875544648889647832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2009/05/war.html' title='war.'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-6266680487557222992</id><published>2008-09-18T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T00:14:45.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fattyness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Can you believe it? i certainly can. i myself is obese, as u can tell from the wideness of my belly and the big round ball that seems to be buried underneath my skin. i myself shouldn't be criticizing other obese people when i myself also am obese. some normal people look at obese people as disgusting, not wanting to be acquainted with them and what not. other normal people are willingly open to all types of people. those are the people i love. since i was young i was "fat" . my parents have always tried to get me to become a normal kid, not fat and it never worked. people have always called me fat boy. at first it hurt a lot when i was younger but it gradually got to the point where i didn't care. fat wasn't a word in my dictionary after that. not till high school everything changed. although it seemed fun, i really started to feel hurt. i hear from friends," person (x) doesn't want to talk to you because you aren't pretty. " what exactly is the word pretty? i never got the concept of that word. what am i now? an obese teenager looking for a way out. as fat people grow, health risks also tag along. including sleep apnea, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, diabetes, and heart disease. none of that sounds fun right? so that's why i finally decide im going on a diet. everyone needs motivation and goals to start. i want to one day take off my shirt to go swimming and people won't go, "eww that guy's body is disgusting". i would also one day look in the mirror and see a normal looking kid, not too skinny, and not fat. one of my last motives is i would like to eventually go shopping, and fit a "large-xlarge" shirt and at least a size 32 waist or smaller. does that sound hard to you? i think so too, but im going to try. gotta look pretty in my graduation gown right? even if it takes till i graduate, i will try as hard as i can to reach this goal, which means i have to nearly eliminate soda, junk food, and the largest of all, no fast food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common now, lets all get to the gym and look good for the future. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"nothing in this world that's worth having comes easy." - Bob Kelso [Scrubs(season 4)]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/4128526083690578992-6266680487557222992?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/6266680487557222992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=6266680487557222992' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/6266680487557222992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/6266680487557222992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2008/09/obesity.html' title='fattyness'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128526083690578992.post-1922258922513685853</id><published>2008-09-18T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T00:46:29.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lonely.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;lonely, alone, what ever u call it, everyone feels alone at one point of their life. for i am feeling lonely right now. to be honest i don't know what to say, write, or even think right now. they say friends can fill in the void of lonelieness within a person. what if all your friends were temporary friends. friends are like doors, each person has two doors, one to be acquainted, and the other is to be best friends with. every friend ive ever met except for one peron, ive opened the acquaintance door, and then for some i make it to the best friends door. suddenly i feel happy, joyed i have another good friend. i tell them im always there for them, i am their support, and forrealz if they say a word there i am. when friends get unhappy they go to other friends. all the time i feel like im just another acquaintance to my good friends when they feel unhappy or upset. am i just not important? other than that, a lot of my good friends have left me. my elementary school friends, one moved to san leandro and he never tried to contact me, and another went to texas. although we still keep in contact with each other, we have to remeber were in different states. another friend, he never really hung out with me, but he always talked to me, for advice, for how his day went, how my day went and life. as time passed by he started to stick to himself, and to his other significant friends, what am i really to him now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time passes every hour, minute and second. time never stops. nor does it go backwards. as time progresses people move on, elementary schoolers go to middle school, middle schoolers go to high school, high schoolers go to college. what happens after college?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from what i can draw upon my memory, what friends i had, what friends had left, i can say i almost never herd, ima be there for you, ive always got your back, and i am there for your support... for me&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/4128526083690578992-1922258922513685853?l=smushhie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/feeds/1922258922513685853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128526083690578992&amp;postID=1922258922513685853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/1922258922513685853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128526083690578992/posts/default/1922258922513685853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://smushhie.blogspot.com/2008/09/lonely.html' title='lonely.'/><author><name>smushie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17661460595400981344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='10' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG6_MVG0bY4/SNH_i_eUiCI/AAAAAAAAACc/1RIrPwwS0uc/S220/asdfgh.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
