<?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-2455679340424314126</id><updated>2011-08-02T07:43:20.332-04:00</updated><category term='show'/><category term='die'/><category term='inspirational'/><category term='poem'/><category term='live'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='funny'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='tomb'/><category term='death'/><category term='night'/><category term='fast'/><category term='lonliest'/><category term='my'/><category term='wow'/><category term='all'/><category term='too'/><category term='gays'/><category term='parabola'/><category term='crazy'/><category term='how'/><category term='you'/><category term='for'/><category term='memories'/><category term='whiz'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='charlie the unicorn'/><category term='one'/><category term='internet'/><category term='girl'/><category term='video'/><category term='guides'/><category term='and'/><category term='celebration'/><category term='selflessness'/><category term='salute'/><category term='The rules reason why duh answer is obvious love'/><category term='doors'/><category term='Cade'/><category term='breathe'/><category term='guy'/><category term='key'/><category term='advice'/><category term='of'/><category term='to'/><category term='random'/><category term='numa numa'/><category term='chophouse'/><category term='pork'/><category term='party'/><category term='yesterday'/><category term='thread'/><category term='only'/><category term='life'/><category term='bold'/><category term='cool'/><category term='amazing'/><category term='beans'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='food'/><category term='sacrifice'/><category term='unlock'/><category term='us'/><category term='controversey'/><category term='Brittany'/><category term='epic'/><category term='love'/><title type='text'>theenigma</title><subtitle type='html'>it's a paradox.

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&lt;a href="http://www.randomshirts.com/store/home.php?bid=7&amp;amp;partner=cadelusk12"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.randomshirts.com/store/banner.php?bid=7&amp;amp;partner=cadelusk12" border="0" alt="Randomshirts.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-3854654510135432224</id><published>2010-11-05T06:16:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T06:57:33.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>College, Man.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Flow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the rivers all I know,&lt;br /&gt;and that's one thing I'll always find,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause all that matters is the flow,&lt;br /&gt;all that matters is what's on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the sky was clear and blue,&lt;br /&gt;with a chance of thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;And I didn't know what to do,&lt;br /&gt;except hide out in my dorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the risk is all too much,&lt;br /&gt;the rain is all too cold.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have the magic touch,&lt;br /&gt;and these days are getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather man fooled me,&lt;br /&gt;when the summer came to end.&lt;br /&gt;He showed the forecast sunny,&lt;br /&gt;but forgot the storm at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I shouldn't blame him,&lt;br /&gt;I guess everything's all right.&lt;br /&gt;Who thought something grim,&lt;br /&gt;could stay on past the night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody in all of existence,&lt;br /&gt;would've predicted all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We prayed for this rain,&lt;br /&gt;we hoped for the harvest.&lt;br /&gt;But we forgot to seed the gain,&lt;br /&gt;and everything we'd promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this river flows,&lt;br /&gt;Deep inside of my head.&lt;br /&gt;Now the truth shows,&lt;br /&gt;what reality is instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the constant changing,&lt;br /&gt;the water's ever moving.&lt;br /&gt;I'm always rearranging,&lt;br /&gt;and never improving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Dark clouds at Summer's end,&lt;br /&gt;like coffee before bed:&lt;br /&gt;Sleep becomes pretend,&lt;br /&gt;thoughts flowing through my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-3854654510135432224?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/3854654510135432224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=3854654510135432224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3854654510135432224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3854654510135432224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2010/11/college-man.html' title='College, Man.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-4591694923015871596</id><published>2009-03-22T09:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T09:07:40.222-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Retribution and Rebirth</title><content type='html'>Retribution and Rebirth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day is coming soon, she says,&lt;br /&gt;The day I break through and will know,&lt;br /&gt;Pain is a four letter word in this poisoned haze,&lt;br /&gt;clouding over me like all others in its flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed for mercy, some sign of remorse,&lt;br /&gt;but I couldn't hear myself over breaking glass.&lt;br /&gt;I fell down in pieces, my voice had become hoarse,&lt;br /&gt;and I stood over my shattered self in victorious bask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplished in destroying my own means,&lt;br /&gt;The complexity met reality and I started to bleed.&lt;br /&gt;Glass never breaks smoothly; it's sharp at the seams,&lt;br /&gt;the blood staining my fists taught me to take heed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wounds healed and the time passed quick.&lt;br /&gt;My history stayed only enough to teach.&lt;br /&gt;But that shattered me just seemed to stick,&lt;br /&gt;bleeding me dry like remorse was a leech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually my intentions grew distant,&lt;br /&gt;revolutions of long past forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;Inarticulacy became my close assistant,&lt;br /&gt;and only rebellion was ever begotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I realized, wearing a smirk,&lt;br /&gt;I was in the mirror now, looking out at justice.&lt;br /&gt;And then I broke myself to make it work,&lt;br /&gt;and the irony understood enough to trust us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I screamed again for mercy, some sign of remorse,&lt;br /&gt;and again I watched myself shatter to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;This time, however, &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt;  edges were coarse,&lt;br /&gt;and scratched the hands breaking in for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the funny thing is, no matter which side of the mirror-&lt;br /&gt;the eyes always looked the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/ScY35juVrkI/AAAAAAAAADo/rdx-Hrvo80c/s1600-h/snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/ScY35juVrkI/AAAAAAAAADo/rdx-Hrvo80c/s320/snow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315997872139120194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-4591694923015871596?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/4591694923015871596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=4591694923015871596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/4591694923015871596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/4591694923015871596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2009/03/retribution-and-rebirth.html' title='Retribution and Rebirth'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/ScY35juVrkI/AAAAAAAAADo/rdx-Hrvo80c/s72-c/snow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-5078274303445232202</id><published>2009-02-12T19:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T19:36:20.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine</title><content type='html'>What men/this guy want/s,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, even though I'm still just a teenager, that I have discovered some of the things men want from in a relationship with a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, and most basically, we want someone to lean on. Life's a battle,&lt;br /&gt;and no battle goes on without support. When stuff gets bad, guys need someone (like a field surgeon) to tell them that things are going to be all right, that no challenge is too much for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads to the next thing we want. Guys want someone to appreciate them. For some reason, we need tangible feedback that, yea, even though a game of foosball isn't comparable to the super bowl, we've done something worthwhile. Bowl a strike, good job. Lift something heavy, so strong! Kill a spider, my hero! It feels good to know that your daily efforts aren't for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we want someone who understands us, whether we understand that concept or not. Breakthroughs happen when something never heard of is supported. I'm thinking maybe half of all the crazy people who turned out to be geniuses we're told otherwise by their wives. Behind every great man is a great woman and all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means that next, men want a respectable woman. Even though the cheap and risque girls of our fancy are tempting, men ultimately know in the end that all of that skin is just a facade for someone's insecurity. The term trophy wife doesn't mean a girl who makes a man's friends salivate. What men really want deep down is someone they can always brag about, always show off no matter what, someone with class. The term beauty is on the inside just doesn't quite say it. Men want a woman they can be proud of on more than just a physical level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that means lastly, we want loyalty. Loyalty just about sums up all the other parts of what men want, but there's just something incomplete with the whole explanation if loyalty isn't included. I'm not talking about the way a dog or some other pet is loyal. I'm talking about allegiance. Undying faithfulness, compassion, patience, understanding, and necessity for us. We need someone who will stand by us even when things get tough or we screw up pretty bad. We want someone to be right there through all that stands in our way. We want a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these things I have found to be fundamentally universal among men. Whether some of us realize it or not, these are the most basic desires in our souls about women. And all of these wants come with the understanding that women want things too, and on that subject, I believe it is safe to say I am mostly in the dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-5078274303445232202?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/5078274303445232202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=5078274303445232202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5078274303445232202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5078274303445232202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine.html' title='Valentine'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-2591440506032160884</id><published>2009-02-12T19:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T19:35:28.944-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chemistry</title><content type='html'>If the hardest things to accept,&lt;br /&gt;are just the hypothetical;&lt;br /&gt;then just why am I so inept,&lt;br /&gt;at the plain and rhetorical?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a stone and cast it,&lt;br /&gt;the ripples cast a shadow too.&lt;br /&gt;But if the sky was never lit,&lt;br /&gt;the ripples would cast down on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you hear the grass growing?&lt;br /&gt;Can you even see it happen?&lt;br /&gt;The worst part of all is knowing&lt;br /&gt;this ship set sail without a captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brain runs while the fridge hums,&lt;br /&gt;thinking on the next move to make.&lt;br /&gt;Then the answer finally comes,&lt;br /&gt;and meets the frigid reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words don't and won't explain confusion,&lt;br /&gt;No one was worse off than those two.&lt;br /&gt;But I'll stop a second for the intrusion,&lt;br /&gt;if I have the time for clues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never close the mouth and bolt the mind,&lt;br /&gt;and no one will take your words for truth.&lt;br /&gt;Don't mind your mind falling behind,&lt;br /&gt;like cracked ideas falling off a rotten wisdom tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You knock and there's no one to answer,&lt;br /&gt;so you kick the door down and shout:&lt;br /&gt;"What is this ignorant cancer,&lt;br /&gt;and which way in here is out?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just remember you were warned,&lt;br /&gt;with a cherry on top of a pretty please:&lt;br /&gt;the early bird gets the worm,&lt;br /&gt;but the second mouse gets the cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be disappointed much,&lt;br /&gt;the mind can't run forever.&lt;br /&gt;And once it comes back for lunch,&lt;br /&gt;we'll learn some chemistry together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just close the door and sit down,&lt;br /&gt;we'll wait here together.&lt;br /&gt;When my mind comes back to town,&lt;br /&gt;maybe things will get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead,James, sip the tea.&lt;br /&gt;Pick up your paper and read.&lt;br /&gt;I promise that its all free.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be right here like a weed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But while we're here,&lt;br /&gt;could you please lend me your ear,&lt;br /&gt;lately I've been wondering things,&lt;br /&gt;and I'd like to know what you bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see Whiz, you're here in my skull,&lt;br /&gt;and I know to you it looks dull.&lt;br /&gt;So I have to wonder, and wonder I will,&lt;br /&gt;Just what is it you want while we sit still?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because at this point I can not lie,&lt;br /&gt;I'd take a bullet for you and die.&lt;br /&gt;But I have to wonder if its for what I know,&lt;br /&gt;or to go ahead and lie down below?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I swim inside the goo left in my brain,&lt;br /&gt;and you continue to read through the stains,&lt;br /&gt;I look for the end of this trial,&lt;br /&gt;and I wonder if its all  worthwhile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, we can beat all odds you say.&lt;br /&gt;well yes even the mad king had his day.&lt;br /&gt;But two hundred and ninety nine died,&lt;br /&gt;and one lived to tell how he tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's it, maybe we're all just mad.&lt;br /&gt;God knows there once was a chance I had.&lt;br /&gt;But that was long ago, I was a young fool,&lt;br /&gt;and look at me now, swimming in this pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really just that hard to take,&lt;br /&gt;or is it just the point that you're trying to make?&lt;br /&gt;Things you wrote down, the very things we saw,&lt;br /&gt;are the things we piece together like jigsaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sip your coffee James,&lt;br /&gt;and we'll hold the names.&lt;br /&gt;When this is all said and done too,&lt;br /&gt;I'll wish I'd stopped in for lunch with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-2591440506032160884?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/2591440506032160884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=2591440506032160884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2591440506032160884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2591440506032160884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2009/02/chemistry.html' title='Chemistry'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-5071435028167528392</id><published>2009-01-12T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T17:47:06.995-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Question</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="container"&gt;         &lt;h2&gt;Question&lt;/h2&gt;         &lt;h3&gt;"Hypothetical" moral question?&lt;/h3&gt;                   &lt;div class="content"&gt;If you pray to God for help because you have been out of work for a while and need money to get by, then the next day, an ATM spits out a bunch of extra money, is taking the money stealing or an answer to your prayer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Your Answer:&lt;/h3&gt;         &lt;div class="content"&gt;Haha nice paradox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but you are forgetting the actual theme here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, granted this is highly unlikely / lucky :] .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is that God will take care of his flock no matter what. Maybe he did allow the atm to breakdown. But for your benefit? Maybe not. It would be stealing, and the bank would look for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is not always the answer to your problems. By doing good for others, it follows that good will come back to you. This follows the basic principles laid down by jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your mind and with all your strength. Love your neighbors as yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these are the greatest commandments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pile of money dumped into your hands would cause corruption of the soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message from God:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I don't want to give  you a fish. I want to teach you how to fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(and yes emely, i did steal that one :]  )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-5071435028167528392?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/5071435028167528392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=5071435028167528392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5071435028167528392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5071435028167528392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2009/01/question.html' title='Question'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-3353375174189305726</id><published>2008-12-04T20:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T21:02:47.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Greatest Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Senses Fail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Through those glazed and blurry eyes, nothing seemed real at all. As the time flew by, existence seemed to slip through my own hands like so many grains of sand, each second taking more and more of the contents of my life's hour glass. Life - drifting through me like the wind, gently nudging me to the edge of the grave. No bends, no rocks, nothing in my way. All there ever was just… &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt;. In my state of mind, I could not feel, yet I was vividly aware of everything that was happening. I did not and could not notice how altered I had become. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I did notice, with neither surprise nor acceptance, that I was indeed warm, but also that I was hollow. It felt as though I was living in an accelerated world, but I was moving slower than usual. My hands stretched before me without command, and I blurredly perceived that I was gazing at and even observing the motions of my hands. My finger tips moved about the fog that was my world and my body remained horizontal. It seemed as though I truthfully wanted to sleep, but could not, and therefore stayed in the drowsy half-existence I had succumbed to warily. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I stayed in this state for quite some time, searching the hollow that was my body for any sign of emotion that I could stop from spreading, but the door knocked and I was no longer alone in my stupor.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;With some effort, I managed to lug my body into an upright position on the bed. I steadied myself before attempting a walk, and soon I was headed towards the door. As I walked, my deceleration in the world had become surprisingly apparent, and I had to grab hold of many objects before I reached the doorknob. I turned it, and opened the door. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Before me stood a woman not much older than myself, with signs of a youthful beauty long past. Her long red hair was tied into pigtails, seeming to hint at the girlish figure I once had known. I gazed at her stupidly with half-open eyes, and thought that the state of my vision was appropriate for my past with her. We had been high school sweet hearts, but that had been long ago. At present, she stood in horror.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"I should have known."&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"W-... what?" Was my stupid reply.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"You know very well 'what'- you idiot." Her feet stamped rapidly on the porch as she eyed me with those still intense eyes. She may have been older, but the distinct features of who she was still outshined the changes in her physical appearance - including her temper. Likewise, my stupidity and lack of execution when better judgment was concerned remained unsurprisingly consistent.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"Can you come back later?" I wasn't so much concerned with inconveniencing her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was more concerned with myself, wanting nothing more but to go back to my musing uninterrupted. She was quick to catch on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"You know what? No. I don't think I will. This has gone on far too long and you know it." She pushed me with more force than her usually gentle shove. I stared at her momentarily with the hollow shells that used to be so deep, so understanding. She stared back at me, and though she was clearly searching – found nothing. Empty. Void. She shook her head.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"I should have never tried to help you. You have never been one to man-up you lazy, good for nothing, piece of trash." Her cheeks flushed and her eyes watered with these last insults. It seemed for a moment that she would take these harsh words back, but at second consideration she decided to let them take effect. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;But in my hazed expression there was no sign of pain, not a trace of guilt, or even of abandonment. I was hollow. No emotions flowed into or out of me. At least not at the moment they didn't. I verbalized my state of mind more precisely than I would have later liked.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"Okay then, just don't let the door hit you on your way out." And I said these words with such smooth casualness that &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; didn’t even notice how sharp they sounded.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;With that little remark, she was gone within the minute. She turned, stalked a few feet away, turned around, slapped me not once – but twice, and drove away in her car. I was left by the door, watching my past drive swiftly away, probably never to return.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;It only took a few minutes, but I stood there for some time, listening to the still air and the ringing of the silence against my ears. My longings got the better of me, and I went back inside. I was halfway through the living room and on my way to the bedroom when I noticed my world coming back to speed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;A shot of panic hit my spine and traveled up to my mind. This chill in itself was enough to alert me of the wildfire spreading through the hollow caverns of my body. It was the pain. The &lt;i&gt;unmistakably&lt;/i&gt; horrifying pain. I could not stand on the tracks of fate and face down that destructive train today, I could not take another hit, not after what had happened earlier. I rushed to the cabinets in the kitchen, and pulled out a set of familiar glasses from them. I reached for some bottles, and poured them out into the glasses liberally. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;"Not today," I thought, "Never today, or tomorrow, or ever."&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I held my nose, ready for the onslaught that was to take place inside of myself. I tilted my head back, and downed the numbing elixir. Then, I did another, and another, until the line was finished. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I made my way to the bedroom and sat myself back on the bed where I had been before, my world slowing down to the pace I had become accustomed to. The fires which had raged inside of me quieted down, and soon I noticed that I was beginning to fall into a deep slumber. I perceived three things before I fell victim to my toxic mixture: The first was unsettling, the second was disturbing, and the third was enough to nullify my efforts towards complete numbness. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;As I reclined on my bedside, I noticed the uniform I used to work in was covering the clock and making it impossible to tell the time. The uniform had been from my father’s business. I remembered the high expectations my family, friends, and I had for my young life. Then I saw the dust collecting on the suit, and I turned my head away.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;As I turned, not man enough to face those oncoming feelings of failure, I saw a picture of myself and the woman who had previously visited me. We were gazing intently into each others eyes with concentrated yet content dispositions. It was the first Christmas we spent together, the first trip we took together, and the place we had our first kiss. My heart flooded with warm feeling momentarily, but when I noticed the crack in the frame, dividing us right down the middle, all of that feeling drained out like the rest of the hope I once held.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Finally, I buried my face under a pillow, and hid from the world. Safe, alone, and with nothing left to hurt me, I began to succumb to sleep. But the last thing that I knew before my world turned to darkness, before I was tossed into a dreamless and hopeless world, was that there was a teardrop working slowly, diligently, and almost deliberately down my left cheek. And then everything was dark, and &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I felt no more.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/STiLf5FyxFI/AAAAAAAAADM/5i-cCDZCdT0/s1600-h/DEPRESSION_by_optiknerve_gr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 248px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/STiLf5FyxFI/AAAAAAAAADM/5i-cCDZCdT0/s320/DEPRESSION_by_optiknerve_gr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276120343481861202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-3353375174189305726?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/3353375174189305726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=3353375174189305726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3353375174189305726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3353375174189305726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/12/normal-0-microsoftinternetexplorer4.html' title='My Greatest Fear'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/STiLf5FyxFI/AAAAAAAAADM/5i-cCDZCdT0/s72-c/DEPRESSION_by_optiknerve_gr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1438444224595093588</id><published>2008-10-18T17:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T21:39:10.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awaken</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Soldiers in boats, the beach not far off. Hellish noises, blazing gunfire pounding their eardrums like unrelenting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;demons&lt;/span&gt;. A place voluntarily come to, comfort sifting loosely through their fingers like lost time in a glass. A thousand fierce eyes, wishing to savagely defend themselves, bearing into the soul of these onlookers. Constant gambling, at any moment an insignificant amount of metal could destroy a life. At any one moment a family will lose some one, a lover left to mourn. And yet, as the boat slows, and the door opens, and, even as those in front of them are &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;falling like so much timber... somehow... they run ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blindly going into the hellish nightmare set before them. Willingly taking steps closer to what should seem like an eminent  demise. Hot, burning, unforgiving metal chunks zip past. War cries from bloodthirsty throats reign supreme on the field, next to cries of agony.  Next in line is the unnecessary call "FORWARD!" the urge to carry onward is in the very core of their existence. The gnashing of teeth seeps through next like the crackle of an inferno...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And yet they press on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldiers are an enigma. They contradict the very essence of human nature. They defy all that holds us sane in this predictably random world. They take self preservation by the throat and stare it down until it submits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Brave souls, destined to accomplish what they have set out for. The worst thing to see on your horizon, the last thing you might ever see. Insane. Crazy. Lunatics. Fanatics. Unorthodox, stupidly mistaken, blind, incompetent....... deadly.... Soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We call them insane, and yet, until we find such lunacy, our lives cannot be completed. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is simply not worth living without something to die for.&lt;/span&gt; Something to believe in which doesn't make total sense at all, for what it calls you to do is not logical either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL MUST LIVE.&lt;br /&gt;so&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL MUST FIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;so&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL MUST MARCH FORWARD.&lt;br /&gt;so&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL MUST FACE OUR WORST NIGHTMARES.&lt;br /&gt;so&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL MUST DIE&lt;br /&gt;so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE ALL CAN LIVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and without death, what was the point of living at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are soldiers. Called to our purpose from the unknown realm of the supernatural. Denial is useless. The thrashing of a child against the ground when its will is impeded. We must fight. Pick up your arms. Don't just walk away into the fiery horizon, accepting what is given to you. Use the tools equipped to your existence and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU LIGHT UP THE HORIZON&lt;/span&gt;. Take your soul and fire back at those barreling infernos. Look those who would have your soul in the eye and call upon His power and FIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will not struggle any longer.&lt;br /&gt;We will not go on aimlessly in the dark, unaware of our surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're in a fight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and its time we fought back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prize?&lt;br /&gt;Eternal life, not just ours, but others as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One fights for all.&lt;br /&gt;All fights for one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and another is vanquished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SSTNqZfEWpI/AAAAAAAAADE/AMNaZzjaIb0/s1600-h/Band_of_Brothers,_101st_in_Iraq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SSTNqZfEWpI/AAAAAAAAADE/AMNaZzjaIb0/s320/Band_of_Brothers,_101st_in_Iraq.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270563592209717906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AWAKEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-1438444224595093588?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1438444224595093588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1438444224595093588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1438444224595093588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1438444224595093588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/10/awaken.html' title='Awaken'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SSTNqZfEWpI/AAAAAAAAADE/AMNaZzjaIb0/s72-c/Band_of_Brothers,_101st_in_Iraq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-3165235987468309644</id><published>2008-09-25T23:06:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:36:36.559-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The rules reason why duh answer is obvious love'/><title type='text'>The Rule Book</title><content type='html'>Growing up, we've all had the same experiences... generally. The path of right and wrong is set before us by our parents, teachers, and otherwise authoritative elders. We follow these rules on faith, and, without question, obligate our existence to the adherence to these set laws of right and wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But has anyone ever questioned why? Of course they have. I'm not breaking new ground into some vast, unknown, and forsaken territory which has been deeply guarded from our understanding by a secret organization or the likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has questioned why we shouldn't eat cookies before dinner. Why we should lift the toilet seat. Why we should open the door for a lady as she walks by. Why we should go to our room after misbehavior. Why everything we want to do at our core should be utterly and confusingly denied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But, of course, when we get older, these things make sense:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookies are for after, because they leave the best taste in your mouth after dinner, and you can't eat as many of these fattening sweets after a good healthy meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toilet seat doesn't appreciate the left-behind. And neither does the next guy's bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess ladies own us.  :] just kidding. Mannerisms are a way to make things easier for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Punishment is the only way we can learn not to do something which is destructive to our or other's well being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything at our core is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;utterly&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;confusingly&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;destructive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every ambition of human nature is purely self righteous. The owner of a body has a world which inclines itself only to include the desires, needs, and ideas of the user. Such behavior is conductive only to that which takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never giving a second thought to where the happiness it so willfully draws on is being mined and extricated from:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Other people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A pure and simple desire for one's self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;disastrous. devastating. A constant struggle for the resources we "require" at the expense of those we do and do not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how is it that no one ever questioned those most important rules we grew up with? *ehem* the Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules seem bipolar. Very strict and ridiculously specific at one end, and very very vague and somehow contradictory at the other. So vast, so many, so specific the laws seem to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;the golden rule&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the ten commandments&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leviticus&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;EVERYTHING IN THERE!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all seems so harsh. To put these rules down in front of us and expect us to take these without so much as a hint to what it's all for. tragic, the plight of the human race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's just so&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; hard&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No one could possibly follow these commandments. It's just too much. There was that one guy, but no one is exactly like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Him&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Why all of this ridiculousness? It's obvious, looking at the christian world today, how well the rules have worked out... right? Obviously a failure. Obviously another fraud among a field of fraudulence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If these rules are good, then why can't anyone follow them? More importantly, why are the rules good? The parents and such had reasons for their rules and regulations on our youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why are these rules from an ancient book good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are the rules good because God made them that way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Or is God good because the rules are the path to selflessness, which he embodies?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the one hand, God created existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other, the rules of good and evil define all forces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hmm....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what if?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if God and the rules were not mutually exclusive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if God &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; the rules, and the rules &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we are made in the image of God... that means that... to be Godlike we must follow the path he follows... but to be Godlike we must follow the rules..... like a=b and c=b therefor a=c....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is the rules, because they define who he is, but at the same time... they are defined by Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God IS the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;therefore, the reason we must follow these many rules is because we are God-like, our nature being benefited from the replication of Him... since we are Him in a way, and the reason the rules are there in the first place is because if they are Him, and He is us, then &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we are them&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOOOO... to be beneficial to God and inadvertently ourselves (because remember: we are selfish and destructive concerning our own lives since the great fall) we must regard the rules as good and therefore beneficial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Laymen's  terms, the reason why the rules are in place is because they are beneficial to us. And the reason they are beneficial to us is because we are in the image of God, and God is the rules. Therefore by doing something which is like God, we are doing something to benefit ourselves and Him at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when you think "Why?" the next time you are disheartened by the "rules" (which, by the way can be summarized in the GOLDEN RULE (see L-O-V-E blog)) just remember that there is a reason, and it is intended to benefit both parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't be fooled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since the Fall of Man, we have had a part of us that is NOT like God, which has ruled our bodies, and which has, in effect, taken the desire to do good by these guidelines from us. So now, the Law brings death, and this is why one rule, to love God, was set in place for us to follow, and why Jesus had to die for all the infractions of the law by His imperfect brothers and sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-3165235987468309644?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/3165235987468309644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=3165235987468309644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3165235987468309644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/3165235987468309644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/rule-book.html' title='The Rule Book'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-7815909291431675004</id><published>2008-09-25T21:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:13:22.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Painfully Obvious</title><content type='html'>Give me that beat,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause im on my feet.&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to run -&lt;br /&gt;and I'll never be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;taking this out to the people when&lt;br /&gt;I'm off and running strong again.&lt;br /&gt;You can't stop this pace - its not my own,&lt;br /&gt;I'm taking off now before I'm thrown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took me years to search&lt;br /&gt;Right in my face&lt;br /&gt;so obvious it hurts,&lt;br /&gt;since I've ran this race&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep under despair's wing,&lt;br /&gt;down below my suffering,&lt;br /&gt;I asked myself why I bleed -&lt;br /&gt;to find that you're everything I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I used to be looked worn,&lt;br /&gt;and never were thoughts so torn,&lt;br /&gt;than in the questions I'd begotten-&lt;br /&gt;My past hardships forgotten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;took me years to search&lt;br /&gt;right in my face&lt;br /&gt;so obvious it hurts,&lt;br /&gt;since I've ran this race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but here I am- starting off again&lt;br /&gt;foot by foot pushing off that wind,&lt;br /&gt;breathing in, breathing out,&lt;br /&gt;raising my voice,  rising up to SHOUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you like I need the sun,&lt;br /&gt;going to run like this until I'm done&lt;br /&gt;because you need me to -&lt;br /&gt;and its all that you've asked me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;took me years to search&lt;br /&gt;right in my face&lt;br /&gt;so obvious it hurts&lt;br /&gt;since I've ran this race.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-7815909291431675004?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/7815909291431675004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=7815909291431675004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/7815909291431675004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/7815909291431675004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/painfully-obvious.html' title='The Painfully Obvious'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-8998708286029241208</id><published>2008-09-23T18:32:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:26:06.734-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumnation.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Recently I have learned about a philosophy which places life in the perspective of a cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How droll. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the more I looked at it, the philosophy caught my attention more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's called:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Hibernation Cylce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Strange. Yet appropriate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, the cycle conforms life to the laws of nature in a way. Our lives become part of the revolving door we call the seasons of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring- One of the most pleasantly ignorant times in our lives. If only we could but see the world through these eyes, and yet retain our knowledge from darker seasons. Spring stands for new birth, a renaissance, if you will. It symbolizes the fresh, crisp, clean new start that begins us on a long journey, the most naive and sensitive time in our lives. As we experience more, however, spring slowly warms, the blooms of youth falling ever so slightly to the ground, and exposing strong, life filled, and experience worn leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer- The summer is perhaps the prime of our physical lives (albeit physical attributes being an insignificant and worldly variable of life), having more to do about growing out than any other part of the cycle. Experience pushes us through the threshold, and we begin to enter what some may consider, the "real world".  We capture all of the sun's rays of opportunity, opportunity to grow, to become strong and courageous in the face of adversity - yet some stand in the shade, afraid to be scorched by the relentless rays. Inevitably, the vitality of these rays shrinks, a cool and calm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ing breeze rushing over us; a breeze of decisions and the set consequences of our actions. No more having to worry over the future, because the future has been chosen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn- Perhaps, to me, the most important phase of the revolution. The follow through. Releasing the ball towards its intended target. All of the experiences, the growth, the opportunities and decisions made, come to a head. Autumn is the time of action, of understanding, and trial. The leaves that once grew their owners strong now wither in the lack of sunlight, the calming winds take over and chill the air into a less warming environment. And then action strikes, forcing survival on every man... or tree  it can find. Taking everything previously worked for and testing it, refining the ideals, the work, the suffering, the experiences - Spring and Summer,  until all that's left is what truly stood the test of life - what truly made the existence worth creating. A last kick, a last furiously magnificent blast of colors, blowing into the calming winds, out showing the youthful vibrant colors of bygone times, as a vindication for al&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;l the effort, to show that yes, this was all worth growing up for. And once this climactic event has been flaunted, has been tested, has been shown for what it is worth, nature responds, chilling the air into a frigid standstill, as if to create submission for the enormous amount of energy in passing. As if to chill the iron after it has been struck one final time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter- By far the most suppressive, chilling, and sought for season. Cool, sweet, sometimes reluctant death awaits the post "Autumnation", taking with it the evidence, the proof that some magical and inspiring whirl of color and promise ever existed, to some hidden place, stowed safely away to be used only for rekindling spring. But not until Winter has had its effect. Every last branch is bear, no longer growing, stopped, and dead. Cold. Unimaginably and wretchedly ironic, that such a beautiful cycle must end on such a low note. And yet, with the coming of Winter, one remembers that the struggle was in spite of Winter, in preparation. One remembers that Winter had given the Spring inspir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ation to bring forth life, Summer its drive to grow, and Autumn its very instinct and natural obligation to carry through with the overall purpose of existence. Without Winter, there is no purpose. Without Winter, Benjamin Franklin is horribly wrong: "Don't put off till tomorrow what can be done today." Why rush? The cycle becomes a line, everlasting, ever stretching, ever meaningless, ever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;uninspired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Winter brings hope, brings purpose, brings new life before it ever happens. And this is why, after the chill has had its way, the amazing beauty of a past generation is passed on, unlocked from the frosting bosom of Winter, from its sleeping, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;yet restless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hibernation&lt;/span&gt; from that glorious past effort.&lt;br /&gt;And then that warmth....my friends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SNl5ho8um8I/AAAAAAAAACk/eXo71PPraIw/s1600-h/sunrise_apollo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 151px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SNl5ho8um8I/AAAAAAAAACk/eXo71PPraIw/s320/sunrise_apollo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249360459511798722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;begins anew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/2455679340424314126-8998708286029241208?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/8998708286029241208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=8998708286029241208' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/8998708286029241208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/8998708286029241208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/autumnation.html' title='Autumnation.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SNl5ho8um8I/AAAAAAAAACk/eXo71PPraIw/s72-c/sunrise_apollo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1746765487173333444</id><published>2008-09-16T21:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T22:13:54.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time and a theory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This one gets a little heavy, so just sit back  and really think about this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;*important note: This is a theory. It's meant to intrigue your mind and get you questioning things. All I ask is that you consider it. This is by no means proven, nor will it or its opposing views ever be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;so just chill :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;and enjoy-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;God does not adhere to the laws of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;got it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lives outside of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We experience time as a series of events, much like if you were to look at a 3D human body, but you lived in the 2nd dimension, you would see 2D cutouts (&lt;-- plural) of the person as they passed by. [if you don't understand this there is a visual in my video called "the ten dimensions" in an earlier blog]  well, God lives outside of time.   think about that.  outside of time.  can you imagine seeing yourself coming out of the womb and into the casket and everything in between at the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;same&lt;/span&gt; point? Could you imagine seeing yourself both finish and start a race and all the running in between at &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one&lt;/span&gt; time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I believe&lt;/span&gt; that even though God is all knowing, the reason he is is because he is watching it unfold,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but its like he can see the entire timeline of the the universe in one object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so while he does know the outcome of things, and he can predict things for someone at a certain point in time, he is also watching that very thing happening at the same time, as well as everything that has ever happened or will happen to it in its entire history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;so the uses of past tense and future tense are thrown out the window and whenever you talk about any event ever you use the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;present tense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;Why does this matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really believe either way, predestination or otherwise, because its both to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusing? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;but just hear me out, its all about ideas, and none of us can ever be sure we're right anyways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;so-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;He sees it all as one SINGULAR thing from the big bang to the end of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you live above the time-line, and you no longer experience time, everything you ever do is done at one point (which is IMPOSSIBLE to define, much like a point on a graph), because you live ABOVE time. You &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;see&lt;/span&gt; time you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DO NOT experience time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when God got himself set up, he did everything at one point, just at different "sections" on our time line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which were really done at one "time" for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so he's not like a computer that predicts things that happen, because he's not predicting it. He's &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;seeing&lt;/span&gt; it. He neither changes things before, during, or after it has happened, because those things do not apply to someone outside the time-line. He just changes it. It's instantaneous. It just happens. For a reason, but it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So you can't say he set things up like a clock and let it swing because he is involved in things "while they are happening". But at the same time it isn't the opposite because he's not experiencing it as a sequence of events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok ok i know its confusing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but just imagine if you put a drop of water on a vertical wall, and you want it to follow a certain path, but its just going to go straight down and you know this, and you want to time it going from point A to B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so you have your clock at 0.0000.... sec. and at different points, you alter the path to point B from point A, and you get your desired outcome knowing what will happen every time you change it. Then you start the clock and release the water at the same time, but when the water finally gets to point B, and you stop the clock, the clock still reads 0.0000.... sec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;both &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) set it up to get a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;predestined&lt;/span&gt; result&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;2) actively involved yourself in the "time line" or path of the drop of water because at 0.00000.... sec you dropped the water and at 0.00000.... sec the water reached point B (because you're outside the time line)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so at one "point" you watch the entire life of the drop of water and alter it. So you can't really say that you changed things before the drop went down or while it went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus we have the 4dimensional universe (4 dimensions = length, width, depth, time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pretty cool eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:12;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-size:12;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;br /&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/2455679340424314126-1746765487173333444?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1746765487173333444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1746765487173333444' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1746765487173333444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1746765487173333444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-and-theory.html' title='Time and a theory.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-7144242245824515381</id><published>2008-09-08T18:27:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T21:44:34.484-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breathe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parabola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacrifice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whiz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='salute'/><title type='text'>Do Not Resuscitate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SMW-UbyOXNI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Ip8AzI5xaFQ/s1600-h/100_0762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SMW-UbyOXNI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Ip8AzI5xaFQ/s320/100_0762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243806599407885522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today marked the saddest day in my life. Some one who was not very close to me, who I personally have never met before in my life, who I didn't even knew existed still until this morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Chemistry teacher, Dr. James E. Whisenhunt, lost his mother on this fine morning of September the eighth, two thousand and eight.  I was not there. I heard about how he ran through the classroom to get to the office, how he gathered his things in tears, and how he left for this woman whom he loved so much without a second thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though I never even saw the thing happen... It was the saddest thing I had ever seen in my life. For Dr. Whiz to cry because he is in mourning, to me,  is the equivalent of seeing your greatest hero shed tears in front of you. In my mind's eye, I have never seen anything quite so disturbing in my own mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Whisenhunt is one of the greatest people who walk the earth today. In his classroom at Wren High School, I have learned more than the previous 11 years combined.  He has inspired us to become our own teachers, to explore the possibilities, and to simplify things which seem to difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therfor, any misfortune of his, is a misfortune of ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially our AP class, which has become more like a family than a class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Mrs. Whisenhunt has reminded me of something I once learned a long time ago about death, back when Easley had its tragic loss of faculty and students alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girlfriend once asked me, when all of this was happening at Easley High School, why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, I can not resist that burning question. Why? It haunts me now in every aspect of my life, and all of a sudden it even haunted me concerning the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when she asked why, she meant why must we die? Why must the young and the hope filled die? Why must the innocent be swept off of their feet and guided to the great beyond?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kind of depresses you. Makes you think that all of this is hopeless. Like all of your faith has been for nothing. Like if only you could have thought of that one you would never have wasted all of that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the more I comforted her, the more I began to realize something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It grew, much like a mustard seed, as this tiny idea - and grew into a giant tree of realization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen a parabola?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its a curve, and if its concave down, there is a point called the maximum, where the parabola reaches as far up as possible, or reaches the highest number possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you divert from that point even in the slightest, left or right, you change the number, and it is no longer the maximum. You have a lesser value. You have a smaller number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets say that life is a parabola &lt;--- I am a huge dork.    And lets say one axis is different situations, or a different outcomes (value) for a variable, and the other is the number of people who will be saved.   so its like this:      &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SMW6oLvT9BI/AAAAAAAAABs/UGMy8DncbkA/s1600-h/situations.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SMW6oLvT9BI/AAAAAAAAABs/UGMy8DncbkA/s320/situations.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243802540651574290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is God's plan. Preetttty rough version. but I believe it goes something like that. Because wouldn't God want to save as many as possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does this have to do with anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as i realized this point, which seemed to have no significance, I slowly realized something else entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The situations that we go through... the things that happen to innocent people... the pain.. the hurt... the constant reminder that we are mortal....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-death-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happens, for a reason. If you alter things in the slightest, the outcome results in a smaller number (y). If those people did not die, others would burn. Plain and simple. The same goes for all of the morbid and perplexing things in life which cause us to doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems kind of mean, but here's the real kicker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you wish that person had not died, they are screaming from heaven at you. I'm willing to bet they would slap you around if they could, and tell you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO! I WILL NEVER GO BACK! I WILL NEVER GO BACK! THEY NEEDED ME! THEY NEEDED ME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they would be referring to the lives it would cost to bring them back. Somewhere, somehow, a chain of events is altered, and the maximum is not reached. They would rather die a thousand deaths than to see that their death was in vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For that's really what they have done, whether they realized it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have become a sacrifice, and up there in the sky, they know this,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they wouldn't prefer it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to you Mrs. Whisenhunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the ultimate service to the human race, spiritual and physical,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We salute you, and as we mourn for our loss, we rejoice for your reward in heaven;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thank you, for raising such a fine young man to inspire us day after day;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we wish you the best up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we will never, ever, resuscitate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-In memory of Mrs. Whisenhunt-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in Peace now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-7144242245824515381?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/7144242245824515381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=7144242245824515381' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/7144242245824515381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/7144242245824515381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/do-not-resuscitate.html' title='Do Not Resuscitate'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SMW-UbyOXNI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Ip8AzI5xaFQ/s72-c/100_0762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-5368897073696073252</id><published>2008-09-02T20:59:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T22:14:58.737-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='all'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='how'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='show'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='selflessness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amazing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='key'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='live'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unlock'/><title type='text'>L-O-V-E (the first sermon (just audio))</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-aaef5493726f8194" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daaef5493726f8194%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260408%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D390F3144E43BC3AE0F675D58F422AEFC558F6F7C.386A070F390911DB4DEEB570FEB3003CEF33FFB0%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daaef5493726f8194%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMQTUSNE-8axl0pvy8iMqrIGiDJQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daaef5493726f8194%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260408%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D390F3144E43BC3AE0F675D58F422AEFC558F6F7C.386A070F390911DB4DEEB570FEB3003CEF33FFB0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daaef5493726f8194%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMQTUSNE-8axl0pvy8iMqrIGiDJQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now, the audio was a little sketchy (it was recorded on a phone) so you might want to keep your mouse on the volume button,  as the volume of our voices tended to fade in and out as we talked to each other; towards the end it's pretty much just me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Leave comments, I allow anonymous comments. ;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-5368897073696073252?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=aaef5493726f8194&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/5368897073696073252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=5368897073696073252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5368897073696073252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5368897073696073252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/09/l-o-v-e.html' title='L-O-V-E (the first sermon (just audio))'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1677880392731659829</id><published>2008-08-26T21:41:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:18:04.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Living Dead</title><content type='html'>When "The Living Dead" is said, one tends to think of a cheesy zombie horror movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kind of movie where the slow moving zombies inch closer and closer to the mansion; all the while the trapped survivors try to stay just that: survivors. The lethargic zombies wonder around aimlessly, until the scent of life strikes them, and they attack viciously mumbling something about brains. The survivors beat them off, but some still manage to get whacked. And then the sunrise comes, and the rest of the survivors get away safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, just for kicks and giggles, this scenario isn't all that far off from what happens in this life/world/existence/whateveridontknowyoudecide. You see, what drives us all inside is something that dates back before historians record, goes beyond the explanation of science and the laws of nature, and defies all sequential thinking which we pride ourselves on. We are driven by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some strange reason our existence is based totally on something which, most of the time, we do not even know the meaning of in the context of our lives. An abstract feeling of design or want of design from ourselves or some other celestial being. We find ourselves groping in the dark (wandering aimlessly, if you will :]  ) at an idea which has taken no shape in our own minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in a sense, we're all or have been a zombie at some time in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But instead of brains, its purpose we're after. And yes, that is the strangest analogy I've ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when morning comes, the zombies are dead for good and forgotten once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the survivors go on to fulfill their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if those are the zombies, who are the survivors? Those with brai- I mean, purpose of course. You see, someone who has it figured out, someone who has a purpose, is going in some direction. They tend to have a plan or ambitions and goals (that actually impact their lives).  The zombies of the world try to drag the survivors down, persuading the purpose driven folk that there is no point, that all is lost and that everything is floating in a sea of empty, meaningless, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I beg to differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like trying to solve a problem or trying to fix something. It's never clear before you have it done, but once it is, you think "Man, I'm an idiot! That was so easy!" Purpose makes things become clear. It gives direction and pace in a vast plethera of descisions, choices, and people.  It is what creates successful, happy people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without purpose, we tend to go one with our lives in whatever fashion it so happens to fall into, trying to return those who are still alive or have become alive back to searching for an ambiguous idea. We are zombies. But with purpose comes great things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With purpose comes life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe, just maybe, after the night is gone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the challenge, and it's pretty easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) look for purpose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Answer these questions in a comment: What does the sunrise symbolize?What about Brains, Zombies, or Survivors?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha think about purpose where it says "they won't stay dead" (look at the poster).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SLS48P-mHOI/AAAAAAAAABk/KbYlGf9grUo/s1600-h/Night_off_the_Living_Dead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SLS48P-mHOI/AAAAAAAAABk/KbYlGf9grUo/s320/Night_off_the_Living_Dead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239015611759467746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-1677880392731659829?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1677880392731659829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1677880392731659829' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1677880392731659829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1677880392731659829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/08/living-dead.html' title='The Living Dead'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SLS48P-mHOI/AAAAAAAAABk/KbYlGf9grUo/s72-c/Night_off_the_Living_Dead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-2084194180429867704</id><published>2008-08-08T19:22:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:20:24.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A step in the same direction.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9rciLxMnJL8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9rciLxMnJL8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice anything funny in this video?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd stop laughing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if I were you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little conforming laugh is actually a prime example of something that happens in everyday life to every age group, every race, and every individual on this planet. We conform, we fit, we take the path of least resistance like the social liquid mold we've taught ourselves to become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why must we become the sheep that, from a very early age, we are taught to stray from? Individuality is a highly prized commodity and especi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ally in America. Why do we have to become the very thing we hate and somehow prize at the same time? What is this force that pulls us to each other to the point that we have to prove ourselves to the rest of the crowd?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're just not paying attention sometimes, and other times we're just weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it. Even those of you who are reading this, thinking, "I am an individual and this does not apply to me. I'm not one of those posers." I would beg to differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, recently, I figured something out doing something I do a lot. Running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, running is a lot like life. Everyone starts, and uses experiences along the way to move to the end with the best result. And you know what else? The hardest thing in the world is to find your own pace. The hardest thing in the world is to actually forget the others, and push your own limits and not another's. Your constantly thinking, "oh no, that guys catching up. I'd better speed it up." which eventually turns into "oh no, I've gone too fast. I've screwed this race up and I'm going to burn out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You find that when you run someone else's race, you never reach your potential.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like life. You can't try to live someone else's life. It just doesn't work like that. Your interests and your personality make up who you are. You take a path you really don't want, but have convinced yourself you need to "fit in".  By choosing another's path, you choose to deny what makes you an individual. You choose to throw away what's been given to you. A most dishonorable insult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're just weak. We see ourselves as weak. We're insecure. We constantly become the harshest critics in our own lives.  The result is a constant awareness of our weakn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;ess, and a constant desire to be something better. So we idealize the jock, the punk, the business man, the star, the person "everyone" loves.  Back to the running analogy, we desire to run another's pace because we believe they are faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes we are just not paying attention. When you don't pay attention, or lay idle in your life, you quickly forget the goals you had and the reason you exist. Everyday begins to look the same, and we fall into a nice, easy, conforming routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about the last time you felt frightened, out on a limb, sticking your neck out against the crowd just for doing something you wanted to do and actually carrying it through rather than folding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;When did you last feel embarrassed for doing something you found no fault with, but for some reason the crowd convinced you otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did you last felt like an outsider?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did you last do something because someone else would think it was cool?&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you took a step to someone else's beat?&lt;br /&gt;When did you last forget about everyone else, and ran your race?&lt;br /&gt;When did you last help another without becoming them?&lt;br /&gt;When did you last have to be someone your not to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;make a friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you were.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKRWgppufzI/AAAAAAAAABU/fcQjiErV7XU/s1600-h/individualegg.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKRWgppufzI/AAAAAAAAABU/fcQjiErV7XU/s320/individualegg.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234403785848028978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/2455679340424314126-2084194180429867704?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/2084194180429867704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=2084194180429867704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2084194180429867704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2084194180429867704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/08/step-in-same-direction.html' title='A step in the same direction.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKRWgppufzI/AAAAAAAAABU/fcQjiErV7XU/s72-c/individualegg.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-6072789117746302866</id><published>2008-08-07T18:36:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T10:37:04.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Red? Are you sure?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;           &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               Therefor I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"  &gt;How many times have you heard this simple saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"  &gt;One way to look at this statement is that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"  &gt;it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;simply means a conscious body is existing as a being in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But another way to look at it requires a look at the way we perceive everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Like the color red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. The color red. The color red has to do with the previous quote in more ways than you can imagine. The color red has a significance far superior to that of most concepts which come to my mind almost immediately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets begin with a simple statement:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing is real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea, kind of like the matrix. Nothing is real, and everything is an illusion. How you ask? Simpl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e. Your senses are lying to you. Think about it. You respond to the world in which your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;stimuli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; tell you you are in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance: Your walking to bed, brushing your teeth. You feel the smooth bristles against your teeth, and the tingling sensation on your tongue. You stub your toe, and immediately reach down to grab the hurt appendage and hop around. Your nerves told your brain that you 1) hit your toe and 2) it hurt really bad. So you reacted in a manner fitting the perceived pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But take for instance when you go to bed. In your dreams, you respond to stimuli differently, but in a fundamentally similar way. People report being able to "feel" things in their dream, such as pain. A phenomenon which occurs when the senses literally lie to the brain to give a false reality its foundations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What does any of this have to do with the color red or nothing is real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;It's simple. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets connect this concept with the next so that the latter will make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Let us pretend that you are an infant, and I am one also. We have different mothers, but our teacher is showing us color flash cards. A flash card comes up, and below a color appears the text "r-e-d". You, seeing the color red, take this for granted and learn that the color you have just seen is called "red". At the same time, I am sitting next to you and also see the card. However, I see an entirely different color. I see the color you perceive as blu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e. Yet this is the same card you saw at the exact same time. I follow suit and assume that the color I have just seen is the color red, and every time I see that color, I would call it red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;So, every time we ride up to a stop sign, you see red but i see what you would see as blue. Yet we both would tell you that the stop sign is red. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKJHFb5Es_I/AAAAAAAAABE/q0cb0ROy54Y/s1600-h/bluestopsign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 146px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKJHFb5Es_I/AAAAAAAAABE/q0cb0ROy54Y/s320/bluestopsign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233823875669996530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So the point is, that if our perception of reality is based on our senses, which could possibly be different from everyone else, then it could be possible that everyone does not see in the same old color scheme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a sense, there is no guarantee that if I put your visual part of the brain in where mine was supposed to be and was somehow able to see, that I would see the same world I have always been used to. Everything could be different. Or maybe it would be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would I even say all of this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think therefor I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The theory above, and your inability to prove me wrong and my inability to prove myself right, perpetuates the idea that we cannot KNOW anything other than:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"I think, therefor I am."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You KNOW alone that you are conscious, but that is all you can prove, because in the end, your senses could have been lying to you all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/2455679340424314126-6072789117746302866?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/6072789117746302866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=6072789117746302866' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6072789117746302866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6072789117746302866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/08/red-are-you-sure.html' title='Red? Are you sure?'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SKJHFb5Es_I/AAAAAAAAABE/q0cb0ROy54Y/s72-c/bluestopsign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-6664873413775770535</id><published>2008-08-04T18:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T19:50:43.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The ten dimensions</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2c2205c615b5c17d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2c2205c615b5c17d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260408%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3D3E2F56E5DFD394FF40CE63C7ACEC439B69638.24A52FA4581459BA6105AF777D0A581A74B38289%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2c2205c615b5c17d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIs6Ffhlf9iAUfkpHs70iz1hymqA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2c2205c615b5c17d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260408%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3D3E2F56E5DFD394FF40CE63C7ACEC439B69638.24A52FA4581459BA6105AF777D0A581A74B38289%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2c2205c615b5c17d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIs6Ffhlf9iAUfkpHs70iz1hymqA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-6664873413775770535?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=2c2205c615b5c17d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/6664873413775770535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=6664873413775770535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6664873413775770535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6664873413775770535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/08/ten-dimensions.html' title='The ten dimensions'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-576741802846048466</id><published>2008-08-04T17:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T18:17:38.317-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your basic hierarchy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wow. So it's been a long time since I've posted anything. And all 2 of my readers must have given up on me by now. But hey, I've been gone for a while and had a busy summer so give me a break will you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyways, I was talking to someone today and it happened that she had a really awesome quote that I've heard somewhere before. It's one of those things where you just don't realize what's been told to you or what kind of wisdom you have because you don't have enough experience. But today, I finally understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cade, someone once told me:&lt;br /&gt;                        'The smart people in life talk about ideas,&lt;br /&gt;                                             the average people talk about events,&lt;br /&gt;                                                       and the dumb people talk about other people.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So I sat there and thought about it for a while, and when I realized what it meant, I reveled in it's simplistic yet deep message. The message being, of course, that dumb people talk about other people, since the trials and misfortunes of the individual are the most trivial and is the cheapest form of talk. Such &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;gossip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt; conveys no wisdom, experience, or any other attribute of positive value. So naturally, events are of slight more importance, and can convey some experience and wisdom, as the past does teach us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But ideas. Ideas are boundless. Ideas are abstract. They can occur at any time and can be about the present, future, past, or even about concepts which apply to two or all three! I know its a bit ridiculous to be so excited, but i realize this now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So here's your hierarchy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;1) the thinkers and philosophers who think of what has, will, and what might happen, along with the concepts behind things which happen. They will have more experience, wisdom, and therefor success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;2) the average joe, who talks only of what has or will happen; giving him a limited amount of experience and success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;3) your idiot. The gossips who love the affairs of the person, caring nothing for the events which transpire, just the personalities of anyone who comes in contact. They gain zero experience, zero wisdom, and even drop down to plain foolishness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;While it is important to know people, remember the past, AND think deeply about philosophical ideas, the thinker will be able to access the bottom two levels, but the bottom two cannot climb the ladder without becoming a joe or a thinker, because that's only achieved through experience of thought. Once you have experience of thought, who wants to go back down?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;What I guess I'm saying is the reason you think that person is immature  is because they concern themselves with people or events. Think about it. That girl who gossips constantly and wonders why she can't keep a stable friend, living for the "excitement" of the game; she really never gets that deep. She's often very shallow. Not to say all gossips are this way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I think high school is a perfect example, and I can't recall a time when I could be proved wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;But I would love to be. It's quite a thing to think on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-576741802846048466?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/576741802846048466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=576741802846048466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/576741802846048466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/576741802846048466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/08/wow.html' title='Your basic hierarchy'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-2741267901412674223</id><published>2008-06-08T22:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T23:01:16.898-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Born</title><content type='html'>For when you're feeling down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Redemption of One-Kind--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Souls cry out to be heard in the dark,&lt;br /&gt;but who is there to save them?&lt;br /&gt;Men who thirst for the slightest remark,&lt;br /&gt;of a soul passing by him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such cries echo out and are forgotten,&lt;br /&gt;but the walls can hear them.&lt;br /&gt;How soon, that,  once begotten,&lt;br /&gt;their pain fades out so dim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numb and cold are these men,&lt;br /&gt;thirsting for attention like no other.&lt;br /&gt;They have hold of their sins,&lt;br /&gt;but can not seek another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were yet kings to one,&lt;br /&gt;one who knew pain greater than all.&lt;br /&gt;Whose redemption was won,&lt;br /&gt;and he was risen from his crawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One man was set beneath the crowd,&lt;br /&gt;set under to be trampled by their feet.&lt;br /&gt;The ones who cried "save me, save me!",&lt;br /&gt;stepped on this ones head instead of concrete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet from all these men whose plight was great,&lt;br /&gt;his was greater than all put togheter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead was he.&lt;br /&gt;Souless and callous was he.&lt;br /&gt;And never had he known love.&lt;br /&gt;Yet one day he was redeemed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From down under he rose,&lt;br /&gt;roaring with new life.&lt;br /&gt;He screamed with instinct unlike those,&lt;br /&gt;and he flew up toward heavan, away from his strife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now past his plight,&lt;br /&gt;the light was no more so dim.&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, not quite,&lt;br /&gt;but a follower of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-2741267901412674223?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/2741267901412674223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=2741267901412674223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2741267901412674223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/2741267901412674223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-born.html' title='New Born'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1183471599011865029</id><published>2008-06-08T21:59:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T22:41:01.366-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thread'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guides'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='for'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>For the REAL Women Out There.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEyXCh9ZHvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/7nXOTlf3mbo/s1600-h/relationships.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEyXCh9ZHvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/7nXOTlf3mbo/s320/relationships.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209704938692222706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yea, feel free to distribute this one. just keep it like it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a guys point of view:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't care if you talk to other guys. We don't care if you're friends with other guys. But when you're sitting next to us, and some random guy walks into the room and you jump up and tackle him, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt; even introducing us, yeah, it pisses us off. It doesn't help if you sit there and talk to him for ten minutes &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;without &lt;/span&gt;even acknowledging the fact that we're still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't care if a guy calls you, but at 2 in the morning we do get a little concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing&lt;/span&gt; is that important at 2 a.m. that it can't wait till the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when we tell you you're pretty/ beautiful/ gorgeous/&lt;br /&gt;cute/ stunning, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;we freaking mean it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell us we're wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll stop trying to convince you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One the sexiest thing about a girl is confidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yeah, you can quote me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be mad when we hold the door open. Take Advantage of the mood I'm in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let us pay for you! don't "feel bad" about it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We enjoy&lt;/span&gt; doing &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it.&lt;/span&gt; It's expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile and say "thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss us when no one's watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you kiss us when you know somebody's looking, we'll be more impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You don't have to&lt;/span&gt; get dressed up for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we're going out with you in the first place, you don't have to feel the need to wear the shortest skirt you have or put on every kind of makeup you own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, if you dress like an object, expect the treatment due. Your only attracting the jerks out there. There's a difference between cute and "oh my god look at me look at me look at me!!!"--- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and we can tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like you for who you are and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not what&lt;/span&gt; you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;honestly&lt;/span&gt;, I think a girl looks more beautiful when she's just in her pj's or my t shirt and boxers, not all dolled up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't take everything we say seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarcasm is a beautiful thing. See the beauty in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't get angry easily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Stop using magazines/media as your bible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't talk about how hot Morris Chesnutt, Brad Pitt, or Jesse McCartney is in front of us. It's not jealousy,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; It's boring, and we don't care.&lt;/span&gt; You have girlfriends for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened to the word &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;handsome&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I cannot&lt;/span&gt; stress this enough: if you aren't being treated right by a guy, don't wait for him to change. &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's not how it works.&lt;/span&gt; ditch his sorry, pathetic, disgrace to the male population &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;carc&lt;/span&gt;ass and find someone who will treat you with the respect &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you deserve&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will honor your morals.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will make you smile when you're at your lowest.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will love you, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no matter&lt;/span&gt; how bad you make them feel, or what you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone who will stop what they're doing just to look you in the eyes and say "i love you" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and actually mean it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most importantly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Give the nice guys a chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-1183471599011865029?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1183471599011865029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1183471599011865029' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1183471599011865029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1183471599011865029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/for-real-women-out-there.html' title='For the REAL Women Out There.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEyXCh9ZHvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/7nXOTlf3mbo/s72-c/relationships.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-8501417428706193509</id><published>2008-06-06T12:35:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T19:57:13.374-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amazing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='numa numa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='epic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='and'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pork'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charlie the unicorn'/><title type='text'>PORK AND BEANS</title><content type='html'>see how many internet things you can find/ recognize (for example: numa numa guy and charlie the unicorn) . This might just be the best video created in my lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-aa83579a3dcaeb7e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daa83579a3dcaeb7e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260409%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7963A57F1D28544C906E2953D37B546D90394581.43C436455D01A01169543D715A95AEDC9B62141%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daa83579a3dcaeb7e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrTxlPQTsfNkd4sMxbFiHasSfA-E&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Daa83579a3dcaeb7e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260409%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7963A57F1D28544C906E2953D37B546D90394581.43C436455D01A01169543D715A95AEDC9B62141%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Daa83579a3dcaeb7e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrTxlPQTsfNkd4sMxbFiHasSfA-E&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-8501417428706193509?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=aa83579a3dcaeb7e&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/8501417428706193509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=8501417428706193509' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/8501417428706193509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/8501417428706193509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/pork-and-beans.html' title='PORK AND BEANS'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1007921130786026600</id><published>2008-06-06T12:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T12:29:59.311-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yesterday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brittany'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chophouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fast'/><title type='text'>Graduation.</title><content type='html'>Its weird. I've been dating my girlfriend since the eighth grade, and now she's about to walk across the stage and get her diploma. It all just went by too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember like it was yesterday: fidgeting around her, not eating for two days before I asked her out because I was so nervous, the drama I had to take to keep her, our first Christmas, our first kiss (which, by the way, was the first ever for both of us), talking on the phone for six hours at a time, her nervousness on stage at her dance recital, the promise ring I gave her, our first dance, our first prom, chop house 47.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and on and on and on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like a dream you never forget, even when you've woken up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now she's graduating, and I couldn't be more proud. I got her the sweetest gift, but I won't say it in a public blog which she apparently reads :] .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her, and it  all just went by too fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-1007921130786026600?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1007921130786026600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1007921130786026600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1007921130786026600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1007921130786026600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/graduation.html' title='Graduation.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-1945483828867053810</id><published>2008-06-06T01:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T13:35:50.483-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonliest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='and'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='only'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='us'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='of'/><title type='text'>Cool Poem I Wrote Sometime In 8th Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;NIGHT FOR THE LONLIEST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night of the lonly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my one and my only,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;torn from me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why cant you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that we were meant to be,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you were supposed to see,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything that you meant to me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we were supposed to live happilly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now its the night...  for the lonliest of us,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night of the lonliest of us,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take my feelings of hatred and distrust,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and carry them like the wind carries.. the dust,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for everythig that has an end,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it had to begin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I just wanted to to do anything for you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like just sayin I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now its the night for the lonliest of us,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its the night of hatred and distrust,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my night of the lonliest of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is carried by you, the way the wind does the dust&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="photo photo_none"&gt;&lt;div class="photo_img"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=891245&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=29170994384&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=29170994384&amp;amp;id=538041509"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 419px;" onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" class="" src="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v253/59/113/538041509/n538041509_891245_2878.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-1945483828867053810?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/1945483828867053810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=1945483828867053810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1945483828867053810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/1945483828867053810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/cool-poem-i-wrote-sometime-in-8th-grade.html' title='Cool Poem I Wrote Sometime In 8th Grade'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-5765515650720939297</id><published>2008-06-06T01:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T02:30:48.063-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='die'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tomb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cade'/><title type='text'>When I Die.</title><content type='html'>When I die. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How will it feel? When will it happen? Why will it happen? Who will know? Will anyone still be around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I die, I don't want any mourning. I don't want the tears to flow from sorrow. I don't want the skies to be gray and the rain to fall on the black dresses and suits of younger men and women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjZbpWdUyI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bR6GfYxwRpA/s1600-h/celebration.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjZbpWdUyI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bR6GfYxwRpA/s320/celebration.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208652038033724194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a party, and let this be a testament to my family, the authorities, and anyone else who has say after I'm gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death shouldn't be a sad ordeal. You know what a sad ordeal is? This world. Its full of hate and sorrow and mistrust and suffering. Not to say it doesn't have happiness or sunshine or love, its just that its a struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want my life to be celebrated, not wished to be back. I want a fair, like grandpa in the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cold Sassy Tree &lt;/span&gt;. Life should be celebrated, not mourned over. Yea, it sucks that people won't be here after they're gone, but we should remember them fondly. They would want that. I want that. My leaving shouldn't be a sorrowful event. It should bring joy as I enter a better place. A far better place. Do people cry when a runner finishes his race? No, that would be stupid. Or does a crowd mourn when their favorite band ends a song? No, again that would be stupid. Without an end, there is nothing to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for everyone to know. I want a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but no clowns..... I hate clowns....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-5765515650720939297?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/5765515650720939297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=5765515650720939297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5765515650720939297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/5765515650720939297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-i-die.html' title='When I Die.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjZbpWdUyI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bR6GfYxwRpA/s72-c/celebration.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2455679340424314126.post-6869915197353481092</id><published>2008-06-06T01:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T01:20:36.064-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='controversey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cade'/><title type='text'>I love gays.</title><content type='html'>haha bit of a weird topic to start on, but a friend of mine recently brought this up and another blogged on it so i decided why the heck not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God loves the gays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God loves the gays. he loved Hitler, he loved osama, he even loved those who destroyed the world trade center so its easy to see he could love a man who just happens to love another man. but when judgment day came, it was thumbs down. being saved isn't just about the idea that , well i want to be saved. its a conscious effort. Someone who is openly gay should not be shunned, but helped. The perversion of gods plan is NOT o.k. but hey, we all sin. Sure you can be a Christian and still be gay, but there must be a conscious effort to wipe the homosexuality from the Christian by the Christian. If i used the excuse that, hey god will still love me, to get out of having to abstain from killing someone, where would i end up? The point is we all slip up, but god still loves us. yet god is the judge at the end, and he won't think twice about dropping someone who hasn't been in the game all day. I don't care if its that sweet old granny across the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. God loves gays. I Love gays. but the point is that if they're not repenting, it doesn't matter. If I didn't repent for my actions and just told god to&lt;br /&gt;put it on my tab, when i died id go to hell man. That's the reality. There is no magic prayer. there is no cold chill that could save you. Only the change that happens slowly as the concious effort of one soul and the god within him can save someone. works are NOT faith. but faith without works is dead. God doesn't care that we're perfect, he just cares that we tried our hardest, and i cant see how a gay person who didn't care that they were gay can strive to please the lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homosexuality.&lt;br /&gt;its a crazy world out there, and there are a lot worse things than homosexuality. but the point is that sin is sin no matter the magnitude (if ther e even was such a thing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God doesn't care that we're not perfect. He knows that. He just wants us to love him and try our best to follow his ways, and I don't see how rejecting his plan for a man and a woman's love for each other is showing love to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love gays, and so should you. they are beautiful people with so much potential. but like us all, they must repent or atleast try to cleanse the sin that has washed over them. God can not lose someone from his grip once they are saved. But Being saved should inspire a change within them, not some stupid overrated magical prayer that has turned the bible belt into a pit of hypocrisy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, i love criticism, but im not looking for a fight. If you disagree, tell me why rationally and allow me to counter if I disagree. Ideas wouldn't be anything without the ideas around them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2455679340424314126-6869915197353481092?l=cadebird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/feeds/6869915197353481092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2455679340424314126&amp;postID=6869915197353481092' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6869915197353481092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2455679340424314126/posts/default/6869915197353481092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cadebird.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-love-gays.html' title='I love gays.'/><author><name>thatoneguy092</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13317993908074248391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_pgzaAQKgY4I/SEjSGpWdUxI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2DyTcTXYuHE/S220/PICT0068.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
