<?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-1122526051300384250</id><updated>2011-10-09T23:50:54.986-07:00</updated><category term='music'/><category term='life lessons'/><category term='personal'/><category term='inspired'/><category term='description'/><category term='lyrics'/><category term='opinions'/><category term='random'/><category term='about a girl'/><category term='lists'/><title type='text'>The Messy Attic</title><subtitle type='html'>I write it down so you can remember it</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1390573782499817082</id><published>2010-08-22T20:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T13:43:09.057-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Save the music</title><content type='html'>When songs are written they often stem from an emotion or an event and some make no sense at all. Then you have specifics;the cliche for a girl or a boy or about a girl or a boy. Some songs praise,and others are left to be interprited by the listener alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone listens to music in different ways. Some focus on the beat,some on the melody,some on the lyrics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a lyric person,if the lyrics attract me then I will usually end up liking all of the other elements that make the song what it is. I also tend to disreguard the specifics of songs. I feel that a song is for the listener to relate to,wether is be meant for one person or wether it addresses the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel at some point one should forget about all the bullshit and their personal opinions about the artist of a song. Because there are a fair number of good songs that get pissed on because people don't like what they are fed about the artist...why punish a good song because you don't like the person who sings it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it comes down to it songs are written and sang to be heard by the masses,they are meant to be heard...it is pretty much their job to get listened to. And I think that no matter the specifics of a song,that they are made to be universal,for people of every age,gender,race to listen to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1390573782499817082?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1390573782499817082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1390573782499817082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1390573782499817082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1390573782499817082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/save-music.html' title='Save the music'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2512418078403663755</id><published>2010-08-18T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T13:44:35.664-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Holes in the floor aren't always a bad thing.</title><content type='html'>Death is a weird thing. Nobody ever really knows when it is their time. And when people die,people often wonder if they are still there in spirit,even though their physical bodies have passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was going through the lyrics of the song &lt;i&gt;Holes in the Floor of Heaven &lt;/i&gt;and it got me to thinking about how the lyrics in that song can sometimes feel real. Well at least on a personal level. I know for me it seems really real when I think about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My grandma die of lung cancer when I was 14,and I was devestated. I spent a lot of time with her,and she was like my second mom. She had so much faith in me. I remember we had conversations about my high school graduation and how we would both be happy for that day. I knew she really wanted to be there on that day,it was important to her as it was to me. But as things were,she would not be able to make it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It rained on the day of my graduation. And it rains on days when I am really sad and heartbroken and I pray for a way to know that someone cares.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most would think of the rain as a curse when it happens on important days like that,but for me it is a blessing and it gives me some hope that my grandma still watches over me to this day.I am forever glad that she gets the chance to do so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The song goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;because there's holes in the floor of Heaven&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;and her tears are falling down&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;that's how you know she's watching&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;wishing she could be here now&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes when i'm lonely &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;i remember she can see&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;yes,there's holes in the floor of heaven&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;and she's watching over you and me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the while I have to remember to not dwell in the what use to be's. Because life happens while you dwell on the past and think about what might happen. I'm not saying you should stop making plans,or forget about back when,I just think it is important not to linger. The dead are dead physically,but that does not mean the spirit is dead to. That is indeed still alive and well,and it helps keep it alive if you keep living because if the situation be the death of a loved one like my grandmother,they would love nothing more than to see you do that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To keep living is a precious gift.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let the rain fall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2512418078403663755?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2512418078403663755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2512418078403663755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2512418078403663755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2512418078403663755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/holes-in-floor-arent-always-bad-thing.html' title='Holes in the floor aren&apos;t always a bad thing.'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5007791743643739784</id><published>2010-08-12T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T13:45:18.380-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>Wisdom,if you could call it that.</title><content type='html'>When you are caught head banging while eating your cereal in the morning:Keep head banging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you know the song:Sing it,because you know you will feel so much better about life if you do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be honest all the time:People might hate you for it in the beginning,but they will get over it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ask questions:It does not mean you are dumb,it just means you are willing to learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Road rage is okay:Until somebody gets out of their car in traffic to deal with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People think ill of you because of the stereotypes attached to where you are from:Forget about it,they are probably stupid anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not all breakups are the end of a relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The seemingly smallest and easiest things to accomplish in life are often the hardest to,that is probably why the small things seem like they mean more when you do accomplish them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be continued...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5007791743643739784?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5007791743643739784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5007791743643739784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5007791743643739784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5007791743643739784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/wisdomif-you-could-call-it-that.html' title='Wisdom,if you could call it that.'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7012949012728677681</id><published>2010-08-12T00:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T00:01:37.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just want to remember this dream.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; "&gt;In all seriousness!&lt;br /&gt;I had a pretty messed up, yet epic dream that involved zombies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a family function, and I left with someone to get some ice from the store in town. I get back with the ice, and zombies start coming out of the forest, and attacking the party. Everyone pulls out guns and such...except for me. I had a friggen hammer! And no one had an extra gun or anything so I was going around killing zombies with my hammer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-7012949012728677681?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7012949012728677681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7012949012728677681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7012949012728677681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7012949012728677681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-just-want-to-remember-this-dream.html' title='I just want to remember this dream.'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7210481849384318648</id><published>2010-08-11T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T13:46:07.460-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='description'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about a girl'/><title type='text'>About A Girl</title><content type='html'>She is the kind of girl who is insecure about some things,but usually never apologizes for who she is. She goes days with out brushing her hair,and still manages to pull it off. She lives inside her head a lot,and doesn't say to much, but when she does it means something. She is afraid of being alone in the physical and emotional sense. She isn't afraid to admit it,and will admit just about anything if you just ask her. She is picky about the guys she chooses to date,and has created a system for weeding out the ones that are not worth her time. She likes to reuse paper sacks as canvas,because she is to broke to buy actual canvas;when she runs out of paint,she uses markers,when her markers run out of ink,she uses crayons and pencils,when they widdle down or break,she uses whatever she can find,and will make a mess of it. She has a collection of old cameras,and likes to go to antique stores and flea markets. She prefers giant headphones over earbuds. She has an insane love for The Beatles. She thinks she cares way to much,and feels that she annoys people,when really they are just shocked that she was paying attention. She wishes she could wear dresses more often,but her slightly large breasts make it hard to find ones that both fit,are flattering,and fit her style. She also feels that you can never go wrong with a simple pair of black flats. She isn't really that in to jewelry,but when she is she likes simple pieces,and hopes someday someone that knows her (well) will give her a simple little necklace  like the one she wears all the time now (which she bought herself). She loves dogs,but has a pet cat,and secretly wants a parrot. She loves to travel,but not alone. She make obscure references (often)that nobody ever gets. She has a girl crush on Hayley Williams from Paramore. She wore her high top converse with her big princess dress to her Senior prom. She loves taking hikes. She has a peircing and two tattoos,which makes her the rebel/black sheep of her family. She is not a morning person. She likes holding hands and kissing. She has a love for "bland" cereals. She does not believe that love is dead. She spends way to much time on the internet. She loves just being with people,for the most part. She will tell you she don't know who she is. She is just a girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wrote this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-7210481849384318648?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7210481849384318648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7210481849384318648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7210481849384318648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7210481849384318648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/about-girl.html' title='About A Girl'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-9214148959492941473</id><published>2010-08-10T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T17:39:10.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some of those secrets</title><content type='html'>I have so many dreams for my life,but reaching them will mean nothing to me if I'm alone when I get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm afraid that no one will ever want to understand me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will not hesitate to "make myself at home" if you tell me to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has been the only guy to ever break my heart and make me fall even more for him at the same exact time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There have been times when I would have not hesitated to trade being able to be myself for being popular.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'm one of the most awesome people ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often fantasize about how I will meet,fall in love,and live happily ever after with my celebrity crushes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like it when people speak directly to me by using my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think "music snobs" are some of the worst kind of snobs in this world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like a defect because I've never had a relationship last much longer than a month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I had the money all of the shirts in my closet would be nothing but youtuber shirts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel dumb when people don't get my obscure references.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe that everyone thinks I'm boring and annoying at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe that love is the most simple concept out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every time I mow the yard I have to fight the urge to mow the shape of a giant penis in to the grass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I'm alone and I sing out loud,I always stop and correct myself until I think I'm doing it right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I observe and make up theories about things around me,hoping that someday they will actually be valid in real life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have inside jokes with myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every time I hear the word penis,it makes me think of a game my friends in high school would play at lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to act with other people the way I act when I am by myself because it would make me happier not because it would make me more interesting to others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My idea of a work out is listening to Paramore,No Doubt,Halestorm, and Heart,while jumping around and lip synching into my old karaoke mic/rocking it out like it is my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(To be added on to....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-9214148959492941473?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/9214148959492941473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=9214148959492941473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9214148959492941473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9214148959492941473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/08/some-of-those-secrets.html' title='Some of those secrets'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5162482051173085941</id><published>2010-07-24T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T13:25:39.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe it's not my weekend but it's gonna be my year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TpG3BxRctQ4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TpG3BxRctQ4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5162482051173085941?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5162482051173085941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5162482051173085941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5162482051173085941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5162482051173085941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/07/maybe-its-not-my-weekend-but-its-gonna.html' title='Maybe it&apos;s not my weekend but it&apos;s gonna be my year!'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-4117532536571611832</id><published>2010-07-23T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T19:31:01.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Should've Known Better</title><content type='html'>I'm sure everyone feels lonely sometimes. I know I do,probably more often than I should. But there is usually that moment when amongst the empty feeling in your head is overcome by the fullness of you heart. Because the heart usually knows what the brain wants to deny,and that is you are never really alone. More often than not,you are probably on someone's mind. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In this life we gain friends,and lose them. Some we are glad that we once knew,others we wish we had never met,and then there are the ones you want to keep forever. Growing up never showed much for me personally on the friend front. It seemed like every year the "best friend" from the previous year had all but forgotten we had a bond at all,and I was sent packing my crayon box to find another friend. And at some point I just isolated myself and tried to be friends with everyone. When the "Cheer War" went down my 6th grade year I was the one that hung out with the guys just wondering why all of this was happening;because it was one of the dumbest things...even at that age I knew it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now it seems as if things are happening in the same way,just in a larger frame of time. I feel like every time I move,I lose the friends that I once had,and have to make new ones. The only thing now is I don't have a pot of people to kind of pick from because I am no longer in school,and don't have a job. And I have never been the best at meeting people. So I am now stuck in what seems to be one of the lonliest times of my life so far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spend my days at home. Doing my online classes,doing chores,and looking for jobs. All while the rest of the world seems to be interacting with one another. I just feel left out all of the time. I feel like those people I were once to close to don't even care if I exist anymore or not. And I'm close to giving up trying to get their attention. I even sometimes feel like my mom has left me behind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it gets down to it. I can't help but feel alone and isolated. I mean I get jealous that my sister,brother,boyfriend,and even my parents all have their friends,and it seems like I don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I should know better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point I don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-4117532536571611832?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/4117532536571611832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=4117532536571611832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4117532536571611832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4117532536571611832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-shouldve-known-better.html' title='I Should&apos;ve Known Better'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8769720639031531009</id><published>2010-07-15T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T21:23:18.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Magic Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She could see the lights of the freeway flashing by like the stars of and unknown galaxy. A few hours closer to where she was going. A few hours farther from where she had been. Lightyears separated her mind from either,which is where she seemed to stay. You never really knew what was in her brain,what she was thinking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She would never tell you,and asking what she was thinking was a hit and miss game itself. Being dealt either a straight answer or something vague,almost as if she didn't even know what she was thinking. But she did. Yearning for so many things,dreaming as if it was going out of style,thinking of the living moment. What was happening at the very second. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She was thinking of that now empty highway,the stars in the sky,the song on the radio,the guy in the backseat,and how she wished this would never end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As she combines the components in her mind she knows that in this moment,it never will.&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/1122526051300384250-8769720639031531009?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8769720639031531009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8769720639031531009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8769720639031531009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8769720639031531009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/07/this-magic-moment.html' title='This Magic Moment'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1555141050056390551</id><published>2010-07-10T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T11:05:27.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filled with broken promises</title><content type='html'>I feel forgotten because I had to leave&lt;div&gt;I feel that is a lousy punishment for you to give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The time is closing in with so much to be said&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The words of your broken promise already floating in my head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a friend not a pal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never lived to satisfy me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just can't but have that feeling deep inside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That you've already expired me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not a carton of milk that you can just throw out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just the way you've been treating me makes me want to shout&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Punch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scream &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Makes me want to believe that promises are never kept well&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1555141050056390551?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1555141050056390551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1555141050056390551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1555141050056390551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1555141050056390551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/07/filled-with-broken-promises.html' title='Filled with broken promises'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8189843992608908192</id><published>2010-06-18T23:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T23:30:19.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can We Pretend That Airplanes In The Night Sky Are Like Shooting Stars?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have lived a short life. All to many good and bad things happening in the mix of things. I am only 18 for now almost garunteed to get older. Once upon a time I wanted to "grow up" and be a doctor; I changed my mind many times like any growing child. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I began to fear the world and all that was in it. It was suppose to be an age of innocence. Stolen by the fear of weather or not I was going to be yelled at when I got home from school every day. I knew this was wrong...I was not suppose to fear like this. But long ago I took the role of survivor instead of playing the victim. I finally came to terms with the fact all that I endured was "abuse." And I over came that. No matter how many times I was told I was nothing,no matter how often I was told I was worthless,and no matter how often I was screamed at and threatened for doing innocent things,I knew he was wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And whenever I heard the yells,or breaking of furniture,I would sneak my way outside no matter what time of day or night. And I would Look up and wish on everything that lit up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even airplanes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I finally got my wish and I know after so long. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Everything is going to be okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm going to be okay. And I know that there are people who care about me no matter what. I have learned to love myself in general. And I have opened up. I finally find it in my heart to trust someone. That fear is being replaced by innocence once again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am growing happier by the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not saying I don't get down,I am only human. Stuff happens,but all is never lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And when I "grow up" I know that it will not be about what I am but how I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've got a lot of growing up to do still and I know what I want to be "when I grow up" but that is irrelevant,because I know how I want to end up is happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A strange and simple concept.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And to think this huge revelation all started with me pretending that airplanes in the night sky were shooting stars.&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/1122526051300384250-8189843992608908192?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8189843992608908192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8189843992608908192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8189843992608908192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8189843992608908192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/06/can-we-pretend-that-airplanes-in-night.html' title='Can We Pretend That Airplanes In The Night Sky Are Like Shooting Stars?'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8493408793129004386</id><published>2010-06-03T20:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T20:11:55.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Try To Lie,I Know The Truth:No Longer A Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At some point I stopped caring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;About wether or not they know my secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because no matter how deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No matter how painful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No matter how stupid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No one cares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-8493408793129004386?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8493408793129004386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8493408793129004386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8493408793129004386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8493408793129004386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/06/dont-try-to-liei-know-truthno-longer.html' title='Don&apos;t Try To Lie,I Know The Truth:No Longer A Secret'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-6140607776707131883</id><published>2010-05-21T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T21:49:57.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HE Loves me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-top: 8px; margin-right: 12px; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; background-image: url(http://www.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-repeat: repeat-x; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.4; font-weight: normal; background-position: 50% 0%; "&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because I'm not ashamed&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who I am &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is who I will be&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not because it's my religion&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because it's my RELATIONSHIP&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With Him&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He sees me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He knows me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He forgives me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He understands&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We talk for hours on end&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even if every conversation is heard only within my head&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What I am lacking&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He is not&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For I am broken&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On my knees&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I pray&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I ask&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To know His love&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Never really letting me fall&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He will always answer the call&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I BELIEVE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Once and for all&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HE LOVES ME&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ALL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-6140607776707131883?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/6140607776707131883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=6140607776707131883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6140607776707131883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6140607776707131883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/05/he-loves-me.html' title='HE Loves me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1339865632346832378</id><published>2010-04-25T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T22:53:17.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleeding Passion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I bleed passion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I bleed it internal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Beauty from within&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Urges me to win&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not the race&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nor the game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This passion &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wants me to win for the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Equality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A more open mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not let hate bind these hands of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just in time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Making one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A difference&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Starting with a heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ending with a start&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don't let the world us tear apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From the outside in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bleed it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From the inside out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stand for something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Show them where effort ends &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Where passion begins&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/1122526051300384250-1339865632346832378?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1339865632346832378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1339865632346832378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1339865632346832378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1339865632346832378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/04/bleeding-passion.html' title='Bleeding Passion'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5003299820631009187</id><published>2010-04-16T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T22:45:22.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boxed Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It has been a long while since I've got to sleep in my own bed. I've been sleeping in borrowed beds,couches,and mattresses on the floor. I've been kicked out of one living situation in to a not living situation. Technically I am a homeless person,I have no permenatnt place of residence. And, I can't find a job; it is like I have a huge stamp on my forehead that says "do not hire." At this point in my life I should be a somewhat thriving,stressed,ready for summer college kid,but I'm not...and I won't be for a long time. The not being able to find a job means I am usually sans money,which means I barely ever have enough spare change to put gas in my car let alone take my ACT which I need to apply for any and all of the schools I would LOVE to attend. My family helps me as much as they can,as well as my mom since she is in a similar place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last year I was living in a place that felt more like home than any other place that I have ever lived in my life. People were more open an accepting of everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now I am back "living" in my "hometown" where everyone judges every move you make and critizies for every choice you do and don't make. I was raised there but I never fit in,and I never want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last year when someone would ask me where I live I would proudly tell them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now I hate when people ask me that because it hurts to much to tell them I don't live anywhere;I usually make a joke out of it,but it really hurts to tell people that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was plucked away from my real friends,and my real home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Then I was put back in a place where I only thought I had real friends,and where my real home has been reduced to a now mildewed pile of boxes under a covered concrete slab that is exposed to the elements and anyone who passes by 24/7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know the circumstances kill my mom,who just wants me to be me,and be happy,she tries really hard. I know it makes her sad that she can't provide for me the way she wants to. I want her to know that it is okay,and she give me more than she knows. She accepts me,supports me and my crazy self,and just loves me for who I am,and even thinks my crazy tattoo obsession is cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I couldn't be more thankful than I am for having the mom that I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And my dad,wow,he has shocked me in the recent extra time I've got to spend with him. Let's just say that I know where I get my passion for traveling from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thanks dad for showing me something new about yourself that reminds me where I come from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On an almost closing note,I miss all of my friends so much that it kills me. I don't think anyone understands. I want to tell them on a daily basis,but I'm afraid that they don't miss me half as much as I miss them. And part of me is waiting for them to be the people who falter and say it first,but they never do. I actually rarely hear from them,I know they have lives,but I miss my friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I truly am glad to have them in my life,they aren't bad friends...I'm just forgetful...kind of like that $20 you leave in you pants and find when you are cleaning your room a few months later,you forgot you had it but are supper excited to have found it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All in all my situation makes me sad when I think about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Homeless,job less,bruised spirit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I keep moving on,growing each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I cry often,but I smile more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because my boxes are only half full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5003299820631009187?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5003299820631009187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5003299820631009187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5003299820631009187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5003299820631009187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/04/boxed-life.html' title='Boxed Life'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7125116778588958556</id><published>2010-03-22T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T22:38:44.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Hear It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Andy rummaged through the cabinet under the bathroom sink,desperately looking for and extra roll of toilet paper,only to be met with towels,discarded makeup bags,an old curling iron,and two boxes of tampons.  As last she took a desperate attempt and raided the cabinet in her younger brother's bathroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Ah ha!" She whispered triumphantly snatching two extra rolls out from behind the towels,and taking them back to her bathroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She slammed the door,to the bathroom and some canisters of lotion and hair products fell over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She knew that it was bound to happen,they were already leaning, bareley being supported by the chord of her straightener.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Yep"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She sighed as she straightened up the fallen pile. She took to the porcelian throne to do business. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The window in the other room was open,and she could hear a train going buy,cars stopping at the stop sign on the corner,then accelerating off to wherever. The faucet in the bathtub was leaking with a tiny drip every now an then,just audible enough for her to hear. For some reason every single noise was ringing very loudly to her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;With a loud woosh the toilet flushed. Andy then went into her bedroom,and sat. She listened,it seemed almost surreal,hearing it,like everyone was living life together but they never crossed paths,never influenced one another in anyway,without saying a word. She couldn't help but wonder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;How unaware are we all really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When did all of the noises,natural,and man made alike,become background noise? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Maybe its just me." She spoke to herself again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sitting back down at her desk,and putting on her giant headphones,she played some music,blocking out those sounds,in hopes to that when she did hear them...she would really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; hear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;them.&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/1122526051300384250-7125116778588958556?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7125116778588958556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7125116778588958556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7125116778588958556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7125116778588958556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/can-you-hear-it.html' title='Can You Hear It?'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1244949523462530394</id><published>2010-03-20T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T21:38:00.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From Zephyr to Writing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Zephyr,Wind,Spirit,Indian,Native,Hometown,Bradford,Misfit,Strange,Different,Odd,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sloth,Smelly,Poo,Loo,England,Travel,Freedom,America,Live,Home,Missing,Wanting,Searching,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Google,Stalk,Beans,Chili,Yummy,Cupcakes,Muffins,Breakfast,Must,Breathe,Heartbeat,Drums,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Drummer,Band,Boy,Cute,Turtle,Small,Puppy,Soft,Hair,Dry,Condition,Color,Crayons,Crayola,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Best,Music,Love,Hug,Cuddle,Pillow,Sleep,Night,Adventure,Movies,PopCorn,Butter,Toast,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sandwhich,Variety,Television,Sparingly,Lotion,Tattoo,Ink,Pens,Writing&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/1122526051300384250-1244949523462530394?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1244949523462530394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1244949523462530394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1244949523462530394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1244949523462530394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/from-zephyr-to-writing.html' title='From Zephyr to Writing'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1744836442356613182</id><published>2010-03-12T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T21:10:10.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Windows</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't ever try to make sense,but when I do it truly means something. I ramble on and on,just hoping that someone will take notice,will listen,will notice.  I can be happy,sad,angry,confused...most of the time I am. It is all so simple. I can feel it,I have it figured out for just a second. My world is always crashing in,one wall gets fixed,and then the roof starts caving in. Those walls don't hold me...thats why there are windows. My eyes,blue like water,like that of the ocean,so easy to read,so predictable, can damage a soul within seconds,without warning. I've started to think,more than they ever wanted me to. Give me passion,in the making. I bleed it. Splatters on my shoes.I think you are ridiculous,at times we all are. All in different ways,we gained portals with time.Communication is dead.The system,constantly screwing with our heads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1744836442356613182?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1744836442356613182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1744836442356613182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1744836442356613182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1744836442356613182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/windows.html' title='Windows'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-190895806778793157</id><published>2010-03-08T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T13:57:28.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Messy Attic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Heavy steps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Up stairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The creaky door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No one has entered in years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Search for electricity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No trigger in sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Through a fog of cobwebs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;See the sunlight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It filters out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That which the darkness hides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So personal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So divine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The contents of the messy attic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To be found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In this mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;Mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-190895806778793157?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/190895806778793157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=190895806778793157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/190895806778793157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/190895806778793157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/messy-attic.html' title='The Messy Attic'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3155727766012611649</id><published>2010-03-08T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T12:05:29.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hidden behind eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Searching for some form of light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Natural&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Longing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Given up on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No one feels sorry for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You don't deserve this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No one does&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Especially you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You think the same of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can see it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You believe it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The moments small &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fleeting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Holding on tight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This time is all we have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Far from a hero,you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Far from a heroine,me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Living&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To decieve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wanting to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing more than free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3155727766012611649?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3155727766012611649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3155727766012611649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3155727766012611649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3155727766012611649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/miss.html' title='Miss'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1200078323958013093</id><published>2010-03-04T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T18:28:48.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Higher Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not crying because i'm sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Angry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing negative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I cry because you gave me the strength&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To live again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Means so many things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It means the most to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So much discouragement &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The world deals it out on a daily basis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;So much kindness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You dealt it on a secondly basis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lifted me up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Until the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not crying because I miss you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because you still believe in me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My love I send&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And yours I still keep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because that is the kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Love  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Runs so much higher than six feet deep&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/1122526051300384250-1200078323958013093?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1200078323958013093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1200078323958013093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1200078323958013093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1200078323958013093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/03/higher-love.html' title='Higher Love'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1850215031463998615</id><published>2010-02-26T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T21:57:18.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You and I See Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You see me as you want to see me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Only simple words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Only simple definitions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing too complicated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Too good or too bad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It doesn't make me sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not in the least bit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wake up everyday and proceed to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"You see me as you want to see me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I see me as I want to,too."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As far as you're concerned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The following words may or may not be true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But you don't have to worry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The closing statement is in no way directed at you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not pretty or ugly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nor to grounded to fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not stupid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not afraid to die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because this,ahem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is my final statement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am beautifully made&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Willing to dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I get confused sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Do love life while I'm 'live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is for me to decide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1850215031463998615?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1850215031463998615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1850215031463998615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1850215031463998615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1850215031463998615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-and-i-see-me.html' title='You and I See Me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-704848803503403989</id><published>2010-02-20T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T20:31:40.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fan and The Fame</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am unimpressed by "fame" in person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because a person is all it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Persona sometimes created by the media&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Worshiped by the money makers of the industry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made of skin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made of cells&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made from dirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made of all the same things as I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You are unimpressed by me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You call me a "fan"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seemingly just a random unimportant human being&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You just don't seem to care where I'm coming from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We are the cycle of things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Both the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The fan and the fame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sings the songs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Writes the words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Be's the characters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You inspire me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I inspire you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We give life the credit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They give you the money&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They put you on the stage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And you thank me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We never get to meet at eye level no matter how close we step&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't see you as they do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I see you as me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The fan and the fame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One in the same&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/1122526051300384250-704848803503403989?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/704848803503403989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=704848803503403989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/704848803503403989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/704848803503403989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/fan-and-fame.html' title='The Fan and The Fame'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-9047621363375221195</id><published>2010-02-10T08:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T09:01:19.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the "bad" idea</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Unimpressed by your fame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Those guys in bands really are just lame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just that guy who sat by you in class&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Great friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Big Flirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bad idea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Big dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing too material&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Open up his mind and I want to step in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guys in bands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Silly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Begin to priortize&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Did fame comsume that smile?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Damn,I'm out of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But you're out of your mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The girlies swoon for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You're tipping the bottle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just belowful throttle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Crazy life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Great friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Big flirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bad idea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That guy in the band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I knew you before you were just that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-9047621363375221195?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/9047621363375221195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=9047621363375221195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9047621363375221195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9047621363375221195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/bad-idea.html' title='the &quot;bad&quot; idea'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-9184079169721684787</id><published>2010-02-10T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T00:29:39.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>say what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't understand your words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your mixed meanings ring in my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Taking up all of my time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I spend every second&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Trying so hard to define&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This twisted relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yours and mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-9184079169721684787?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/9184079169721684787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=9184079169721684787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9184079169721684787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9184079169721684787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/say-what.html' title='say what?'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8982115380479928146</id><published>2010-02-04T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T21:13:23.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just a few things before i die</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now,in random order,this is the asnwer to the question,"what do you want to do before you die?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.find "my job"&lt;br /&gt;2.go to taco bueno.&lt;br /&gt;3.see phantom of the opera on broadway.&lt;br /&gt;4.make a blockbuster hit.&lt;br /&gt;5.have an epic song made specifically for one of my(future) movies by linkin park.&lt;br /&gt;6."date" 4 guys that each resemble a different beatle. (1 down,john look-a-like,3 to go.)&lt;br /&gt;7.try out for american idol.&lt;br /&gt;8.kiss a cute stranger.&lt;br /&gt;9.go on a cruise.&lt;br /&gt;10.go to vegas and see the love show at the mirage.&lt;br /&gt;11.meet the two still living beatles.&lt;br /&gt;12.date a musician.&lt;br /&gt;13.go to liverpool,and go to every single beatles related location that is mentioned in my "magical history tour" dvd.&lt;br /&gt;14.design a tattoo for a friend.&lt;br /&gt;15.go to the state fair.&lt;br /&gt;16.see paramore in concert.&lt;br /&gt;17.buy and restore an old vw bus.&lt;br /&gt;18.go to film school.&lt;br /&gt;19.obtain youtube fame.&lt;br /&gt;20.have a picnic in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;21.travel around europe.&lt;br /&gt;22.have at least 100 things on this list.&lt;br /&gt;23.makeout in an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;24.attend a "free hugs" event.&lt;br /&gt;25.adopt a pet from the animal shelter.&lt;br /&gt;26.burn the shirt of his that i currently use to keep dust off my guitar.&lt;br /&gt;27.learn how to play guitar.&lt;br /&gt;28.change a stranger's life for the greater good.&lt;br /&gt;29.be on a game show.&lt;br /&gt;30.meet jim sturgess.&lt;br /&gt;31.have my dream wedding in strawberry fields in central park.&lt;br /&gt;32.meet "the one."&lt;br /&gt;33.go speed dating.&lt;br /&gt;34.meet all the people "those guys" always wanted to,but never did.&lt;br /&gt;35.go to a wine tasting.&lt;br /&gt;36.have my "art" displayed in a gallery.&lt;br /&gt;37.go to a karaoke bar,and actually sing karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;38.ride a steel roller coaster.&lt;br /&gt;39.go to every attraction,and ride every ride that disney world has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;40."work" in a haunted house.&lt;br /&gt;42.win a costume contest.&lt;br /&gt;43.take dance lessons.&lt;br /&gt;44.host a foreign exchange student.&lt;br /&gt;45.send in a secret to postsecret.(Done! August 16,2010)&lt;br /&gt;46.send an encouraging letter to a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;47.dance with someone I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;48.have a boyfriend on valentine's day.&lt;br /&gt;49.do something memorable.&lt;br /&gt;50.watch a sunrise and a sunset with someone that is special to me.&lt;br /&gt;51.ride in a train.&lt;br /&gt;52.win a major contest of some sort.&lt;br /&gt;53.fall asleep in a hammock.&lt;br /&gt;54.finish my novel.&lt;br /&gt;55.go to a class reunion.&lt;br /&gt;56.go to montana and worry a squirrel.&lt;br /&gt;57.go to utah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;58.have a one on one conversation with Christofer Drew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;59.learn to actually play my guitar "Flora" is her name.(refer back to #27)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;60.Perform in a play one more time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;61.Meet someone who "gets me"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;62.Kiss in the rain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;63.Get at least one person to realize how useless hate is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;64.Save a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;65.Have a boyfriend that dosent make me feel uncomfortable. (DONE! His name,Philip)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;66.Get serenaded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;67.Be a vegetarian for at least a solid month...if not longer. :) (DONE! March 22-April 21,2010)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;68.Become a certified tattoo artist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;69.See an All Time Low LIVE show!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued...&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/1122526051300384250-8982115380479928146?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8982115380479928146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8982115380479928146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8982115380479928146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8982115380479928146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-few-things-before-i-die.html' title='just a few things before i die'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-167384279896714987</id><published>2010-02-01T22:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T22:40:51.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you point the finger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I lie awake and cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You made me out to be the bad guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your words slander my name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Scattering the pieces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Burning the blame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I took my responsibility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Held it over my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;With a big red arrow pointing down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I lay in my made bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't call you out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Or make you take your blame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because obviously they'll see it and look at you with shame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don't worry love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because those lies you told&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made everyone point my way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Making me live with it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Day after day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-167384279896714987?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/167384279896714987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=167384279896714987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/167384279896714987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/167384279896714987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-point-finger.html' title='you point the finger'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-9041477508031307788</id><published>2010-01-21T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T21:34:12.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>see the place where you use to live</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That is when we know. Know what?,you ask. Everything. When life as you know it ends,that is when you will know the answer to everything,the answer to any question you may have in life.  Now, I am not pretending to be a teen profit,or some guru that has all the answers with a zen tone of voice,and I am just telling it like i see it,know it, believe it,feel it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Life is funny, you know. We have so many questions that go mostly unanswered everyday,wether it be from lack of being heard,or lack of having the nads to ask, it happens. I know that if I aske a question, it is always my fault...always. And I usually,most of the time,take the blame.  But then I never ask the one thing that is on my mind, "if the answer to the question I just asked you is me,then what about what you asked me? Is the answer you? Or am I to take the blame for that as well?" We are typically creatures of the unfortuante thing, that if something happens to us,then it is our doing....no one else but ourself can do anything about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know why I rattled on about the first part, like I still am, but trust me I will eventually,after a converstation about biscuts, and something else I will eventually get back on the road I intended. But I must take this journey through the woods before I get back to the interstate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All of this thought was brought up to me by myself, by the words of someone,which were said to me..."but I can't trust you like I use to..."  Why not? I made a mistake,similar to ones I have made since I was born,and the ones I will make until I die? Because I usually see trust as a yes or no thing...and when maybe comes into play then things must be complicated. But since I tend to trust everyone, then I might not be one to even speak on the subject.  Because I am still the same exact person I was before, a little more broken,and what have you, but....why is this happening now? The trust seemed to have left far before I ever did what I did,I did what I could.I did, what I wanted, because it seemed to fillthe hole left by the already misplaced trust,it seemed to. It is my fault, but. I don't know. An I am sure a pshychological evaluation of my mind would be able to reveal to you the meaning of what I am really trying to say,but I can't get that right now. I still trust you, with my life, even if you loose all trust in me eventually.  I do trust you. I say yes. Just sayin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Good new my new years resolution "wait for it" I am still going strong on keeping it. In my eighteen years of living I have never done that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am watching Death Becomes Her. This is the movie that was watched the evening "The Book" came about, came to life.  A time when things were simple,complicated,life. At that point things were great, like a sisterhood.  Still now thinking back, I would love to make a screenplay, and eventually a movie about "The Book." The things that happened,the things that were said,and the girls that it is about.  But I haven't seen the book since beginning of my senior year in high schoo, and I don't know if it is even still in existance. But I hope to sometime get it in the natural rotation of things,and begin the work from idea to screen. With permission from the other 3 ladies involved.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;-Paige&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"You sit there in your heartache waiting on some beautiful boy, to save you from your old ways,you play forgivness,watch it now, here he come,he dosen't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman like you imagined him...when you were young."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-9041477508031307788?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/9041477508031307788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=9041477508031307788' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9041477508031307788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9041477508031307788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/01/see-place-where-you-use-to-live.html' title='see the place where you use to live'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2385539481275181505</id><published>2010-01-12T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T21:30:06.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it silly?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I think I look good when I wake up most mornings?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that music makes up most of my day anymore?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I have low self-esteem,yet secretly think I am awesome?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I really do wish I could go back and tell my younger self what to do so I wouldn't have so many regrets now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I believe I have undiagnosed SAD,and think anything unusual going on with my body is cancer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I won't settle for anything that does not make me happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I am unimpressed by fame in person?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I like to wake up slow, no matter what time of day I wake up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I can sleep anywhere,but I have a before bed ritual for everywhere?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I know my family won't care that I have a new tattoo,but I still find it necessary to hide it from them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I don't fear death in the slightest?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that small moments in my life are the most memorable,and large events are the most forgotten?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I always turn my spoon upside down in my mouth before taking another bite when I eat ice cream?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I am sad about the fact I feel like I will never be good enough for her to talk to,like she did my other friend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I feel alone in crowded rooms?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I feel more at home in other people's home rather than my own?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that no matter how many people tell me I won't do it, I still think I can?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I know I am a screw up,and don't care?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly that I want people to read this...my whole blog...so they can get to know me better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly to dream?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it stilly to imagine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is it silly?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But then again,I am silly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2385539481275181505?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2385539481275181505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2385539481275181505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2385539481275181505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2385539481275181505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/01/is-it-silly.html' title='Is it silly?'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-636291741429364720</id><published>2010-01-10T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T01:49:55.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Do It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You can do it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It won't happen!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So many mixed signals. All sent to me by those people who I should count on for support full on. But ever since my dreams,goals,and what not have become "unrealistic" "hard to get to"; those people no longer support me in the way they once did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have all the faith in myself to accomplish what I want in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; i can do it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even if they don't...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even if i have to encounter failure on the rise to my success in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I can do it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To some, I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; a girl...I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; a girl...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; just a girl...I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Shawn Paige Turner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;...I am a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCCCC;"&gt;talented&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;quixotic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CCFF;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;amazingly quirky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;beautiful on the inner and the outer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;dream until the stars refuse to shine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No matter what they say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is what I say...this is me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My hopes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My wishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; have to believe in me, just like they.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;have to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; believe in my self.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"You can do it!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFCC33;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So can you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-636291741429364720?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/636291741429364720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=636291741429364720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/636291741429364720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/636291741429364720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-can-do-it.html' title='I Can Do It'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7386778770937474438</id><published>2010-01-09T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T19:39:36.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chest That Holds The Treasure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When things come to rest, it suppose to feel like peace,and inner calm that shows on the outer.  Life can suck, or seemingly suck,but someone always has it worse than you.  All the whining in the world will not change that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Things can change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;People can change.  Even if it does not seem that way,it is as true as ever. Maybe its them maturing,or the chance that one just decided something different that totally changed their life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't believe in hate, but being human holds me to being a hypocrite sometimes...which leads me to confess that I do at times express...bleed hate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But with a little music (All you need is love,don't you know its gonna be alright) I am brought back down to Earth; to realize that I will be fine,they will be fine,we will all be fine...the actions of so many seconds ago suddenly appear nonexistant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Happiness is a warm gun,makes sense to only some of the most intent and insightful of people;typiccaly Beatles fans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But what is happiness really? To me its a total content feeling with life,and myself...for the most part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What is it to you? I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You can tell your reasoning or keep it to yourself,it is your secret to keep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And if you don't believe that happiness is and existing thing...then I am truly sorry. But I hope that you look at your life...really look...really think. I hope you find it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"I could be happy with all the money and possesions that I could ever want. But I also know I cold be happy living in my car or on the street. Its not about the treasure in the chest,but about the chest that holds the treasure."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-7386778770937474438?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7386778770937474438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7386778770937474438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7386778770937474438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7386778770937474438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2010/01/chest-that-holds-treasure.html' title='The Chest That Holds The Treasure'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-369107430213270844</id><published>2009-12-29T12:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T12:05:47.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Alternate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; "&gt;Sitting wrong side up on the couch&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Feet dangling in the sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tears let not the plants die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Forgiveness came at midnight-noon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mailed the letter to P.O. Box&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nowhere important&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Where someone important&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Reads "To whom it may concern"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The men of dreams?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Always present in the ladies mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That is where their dreams tend to reside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Dreams come true"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Could be considered fairy tale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But it just looks like reality to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When our mind's image&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Comes to life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-369107430213270844?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/369107430213270844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=369107430213270844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/369107430213270844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/369107430213270844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/12/reality-alternate.html' title='Reality Alternate'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1033769012287888186</id><published>2009-11-20T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T14:55:53.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>little things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Invitation to "hang out"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Being mentioned in the conversation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A drive with the windows down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Swinging on the swingset, together, in perfect sync&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Being spoken to directly by name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Riding in the back seat of the "hot car"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sitting next to him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Meeting someone new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;These little things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Made the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thanks to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1033769012287888186?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1033769012287888186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1033769012287888186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1033769012287888186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1033769012287888186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-things.html' title='little things'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5088784399302187912</id><published>2009-10-03T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T13:50:17.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>can't forget regret</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Drip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Drop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The sound of rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Like the sound of tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Letting out the pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Showing all my fears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All the wasted years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I wish that you were near&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But I know you will never hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm sorry my dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My words falter to the darkness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This empty room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hears nothing but the regret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Something you may&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Some things I can never &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Forget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5088784399302187912?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5088784399302187912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5088784399302187912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5088784399302187912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5088784399302187912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/10/cant-forget-regret.html' title='can&apos;t forget regret'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5952539267306005128</id><published>2009-08-10T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T00:21:55.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POV</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Incorporate that song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Listen  it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Feel it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Believe it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Make me want to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Do The same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Lets us soar not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On wings of eagles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On the backs of pigeons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Seeing the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In a different light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Believing that all things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;are possible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even from the strangest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Smallest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Point of view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Let the melody guide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Us…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5952539267306005128?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5952539267306005128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5952539267306005128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5952539267306005128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5952539267306005128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/08/pov.html' title='POV'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-6437485442270111225</id><published>2009-07-04T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:18:59.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you take me</title><content type='html'>You grab me by the waist&lt;br /&gt;You kiss my lips to yours&lt;br /&gt;It was less than a year&lt;br /&gt;My fears opened your doors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night silent&lt;br /&gt;Sticky like the sweat&lt;br /&gt;It was created&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take my had&lt;br /&gt;Lead me much deeper than&lt;br /&gt;A threat&lt;br /&gt;I dip in my feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such sweet resistance&lt;br /&gt;It comes from the core&lt;br /&gt;You take me by the soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open up the door&lt;br /&gt;Not welcome anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tangle me up&lt;br /&gt;Like sheets&lt;br /&gt;I lie in them no more&lt;br /&gt;Closing the door&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-6437485442270111225?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/6437485442270111225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=6437485442270111225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6437485442270111225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6437485442270111225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-take-me.html' title='you take me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7713044118245684767</id><published>2009-07-04T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:05:54.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>missing the muse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have I become empty?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I write it down?&lt;br /&gt;There is pen and paper&lt;br /&gt;All I do I lie down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try so hard now&lt;br /&gt;To make something flow&lt;br /&gt;This blank girl&lt;br /&gt;Is waiting for her muse to show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time ticks by&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is cry&lt;br /&gt;All I can ask is why&lt;br /&gt;Did my spirit have to die?&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/1122526051300384250-7713044118245684767?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7713044118245684767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7713044118245684767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7713044118245684767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7713044118245684767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/07/missing-muse.html' title='missing the muse'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5976893974092912972</id><published>2009-05-10T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T20:38:39.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>spin record round</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Unplug the chord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Turn off the power&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Let down the needle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It is no longer comedy hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Spinning around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Again and again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pictures of yesterday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Slowly fade away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Barely knowing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wanting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wishing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You would stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The time passes slowly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The hour hand is stuck on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;3am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I must be lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It finally picks up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Things finally caught&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Then the music ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With a crackling halt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I would like to stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Eventually all will notice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've gone away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We are still breathing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But we have been dead &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;For a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Death to real love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Something that might last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No way moving all to fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Too good to be true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What it seems to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Silly me still hoping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This could pull through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But it ends tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just vile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because hey, thats whats in style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What it seems to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5976893974092912972?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5976893974092912972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5976893974092912972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5976893974092912972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5976893974092912972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/05/spin-record-round.html' title='spin record round'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8797151169612009499</id><published>2009-03-20T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T15:19:00.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>into my reflection of self</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Self reflection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its helping me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am figuring out what &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It means to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Among the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Heartbreak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Lonlieness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Insecurity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I finally find myself happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-8797151169612009499?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8797151169612009499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8797151169612009499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8797151169612009499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8797151169612009499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/03/into-my-reflection-of-self.html' title='into my reflection of self'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-1738731110731250695</id><published>2009-03-05T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T21:29:50.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She Is Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;She wakes up greets the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not so long &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Beautiful like she knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Messy but planned never knowing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The radio is broken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;She sings her own song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The only tune her heart knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It could be worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why make her own curse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;People surround her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Some filled with love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Some filled with hate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It a test she takes every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Somehow smiling the fears away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They all can't help but say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;She is so happy today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-1738731110731250695?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/1738731110731250695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=1738731110731250695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1738731110731250695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/1738731110731250695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-is-happy.html' title='She Is Happy'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8955474497241735560</id><published>2009-03-01T00:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T00:55:15.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Secrets Make Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I hate secrets &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They just create little bombs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I have many yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I hate them just as much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;True&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The only reason I keep them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Is to hide who i really believe I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wretched&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Disgusting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ugly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Lonely &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Depressed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All I want to do is make a list&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Of all my secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All the twisted things I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All the sick things I think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I want you all to know me to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You might put me me away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Shun me, you're through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But at least then you would know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That the girl you're seeing is true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-8955474497241735560?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8955474497241735560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8955474497241735560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8955474497241735560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8955474497241735560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-secrets-make-me.html' title='My Secrets Make Me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-4701174946326658695</id><published>2009-02-22T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T19:55:29.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullet for her Valentine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;She walks home every day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Hoping for a call that seems to far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "I'm sorry" he would say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "Sorry for hurting you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; But that call never comes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She only gets the call that says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "I'm drunk"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "Come and get me now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; No mother to mediate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She gets in the car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; And drives to the broken down, shabby little bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She looks at the scars and cries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; When she sees the anger in her father's eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She knows what is to come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; It has once, twice, three times been done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She tries hides best she can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Runs but is found again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; But this time the road is a dead end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; His fists hit hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Her ivory skin turning blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; He tires and gets in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "Lets go home"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Now its almost 2 in the morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; What else can she do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; He crashes she cries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Outside on the front step&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Her tears fall and dry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She dosnt want this anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She goes to her father's dresser drawer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Pulls out a handgun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Loaded for sure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She goes to the garage and closes the door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; No word for goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Only wanting to die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Finger on the trigger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Pointing to her head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She dosnt hear a gunshot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; But shattering glass instead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Turns to the eyes of a stranger neighbor at best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; His brown eyes beginning to bore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Her soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "Dont" is all he says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Coming trough the window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Took the gun held her tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "I called the police, its over tonight."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; The red and blue lights promise her comfort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; It ends tonight she sighed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; A year later she has a new home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; New parents that love her that would never do harm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She goes to his door step&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Lays down a box with a note and a knock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; She leaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Coming to the door he sees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; The box contains a bullet engraved with words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; These&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "You saved me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; And on the note what it said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; He never knew the wind took it away with a gust that blew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; Simple the little words that he already knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "This is the bullet that almost killed me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "This is the bullet that brought me to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "You saved me that night, forever I'm thankful."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "You saved my life that Valentines night, my life and my heart."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "This bullet is for you my Valentine. My guardian angel."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; "I thank you.For giving me back my life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-4701174946326658695?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/4701174946326658695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=4701174946326658695' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4701174946326658695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4701174946326658695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/02/bullet-for-her-valentine.html' title='Bullet for her Valentine'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2464204699619146677</id><published>2009-02-18T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T12:28:29.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In general : I'm  a drifter, watch me go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I didn't go to school today because of some reasons of self sadness. But oh am I over it now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I just went outside and the day smells of summer, slightly warm with a nice breeze cutting in to dance with the sunshine. I got dog poo on my shoe on this outside trip...but all well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm so ready for summer now that it's killing me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;After 13 years of thinking about summer dreading its end I'm certainly ready to be able to be excited about the end of summer, in term celebrating the coming of fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I have no real plans for my life...but the summer...the feeling makes me think that wherever the wind lands me.&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I will be happy. In general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2464204699619146677?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2464204699619146677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2464204699619146677' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2464204699619146677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2464204699619146677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-general-im-drifter-watch-me-go.html' title='In general : I&apos;m  a drifter, watch me go'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5408938116680067602</id><published>2009-02-17T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T21:19:17.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexis inspires me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I really want to give a shout out to one of my best friends in the world; Miss Alexis Hall! I love her so much, the optimistic way she looks at life makes me smile. She inspires me to do things that I love, and to be myself in doing these things. She is great in all her God given talents and imperfections. The girl is amazing! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Love you lots Alexis. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm making a list. Well a few. The things in life I want to do, need to do, should do...yes a DO list. I have been tweaking about a lot of things lately. And I don't really have the guts to say whats on my mind. But I've realized that when I say the things on my mind, get it out there...I feel so much better...So begins a newish era of self discovery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5408938116680067602?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5408938116680067602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5408938116680067602' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5408938116680067602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5408938116680067602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/02/alexis-inspires-me.html' title='Alexis inspires me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-9157401552155537377</id><published>2009-01-25T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T10:25:30.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>articficial acid burns heavy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Far longer than anticipation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Floods the veins of your existence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hallucinations &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Creations of your own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Her eyes light up like rainbows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Curves like the bottle you keep your genie in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Voice of a siren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Lures you in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The floating parade of clouds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Multi-colored insane asylum &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tasty cotton &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Words are running dry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dancing away you take the lady's hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Prancing goodbyes to your cares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Falling senseless to the worldly dares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Risk nation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Angel takes a cut in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Denial &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What is the best thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You're the victim now my friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Falling deeper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Connecting to all that has failed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Become better will you..?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Welcome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is your artificial acid trip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Deception that never ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-9157401552155537377?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/9157401552155537377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=9157401552155537377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9157401552155537377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/9157401552155537377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/01/articficial-acid-burns-heavy.html' title='articficial acid burns heavy'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5515085119747166639</id><published>2009-01-17T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:57:21.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear, Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Today I was looking through a huge stack of papers that are starts and almost finishes of stories and such that I've written. I found one that I started before I moved...It was kind of a secret. I never finished it...but think I'm in the right mind to now.&lt;br /&gt;It starts out in a letter that the main girl is writing to her love whom she has not found yet...she is writing it in and to the love she dreams and hope and believes that she will find.&lt;br /&gt;So enjoy reading, tell me what you think please. :) &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much.&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, Paige&lt;br /&gt;Consider this my lost works.&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear,Love&lt;br /&gt;I doubt at this moment I know you, or have even come to know of your existence.  But I don't doubt the feelings I will have for you.&lt;br /&gt;The deepest most sincere of feelings, so pure that describing it is not an easy task. I fear it may go unsubscribed forever&lt;br /&gt;At this point I am all hoping you return these feelings.&lt;br /&gt;My passion often scares  people but you reading this, love, means you stayed long enough to find me out.&lt;br /&gt;I love you for this.&lt;br /&gt;Come cold, hot, rain, snow, hurricane, or tornado I will not stop. I think of you often, love. Then count all of the possible time differences between me and you there could be. I'm trying to figure out how we will, and come to be.&lt;br /&gt;I listen to songs that I'm sure remind me of you, just to imagine the movement your mouth makes while you are singing to me. Oh, how I long to kiss that mouth love.&lt;br /&gt;Someday. I will.&lt;br /&gt;You understand what I'm saying, and as you recite my words back to me I know who you are. Love.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not bound to marry a man, I can live and die alone if I so do wish...but love you have changed my mind!&lt;br /&gt;I still wish I could describe my feelings for you. But these words in my mind jumble with this feeling in my heart that says "not good enough!"&lt;br /&gt;You make me shiver in every loose and tightly knit fiber of my being.&lt;br /&gt;Time space and courage may converge before you ever read this, but I will be kind in knowing that you eventually did read it.&lt;br /&gt;Or.&lt;br /&gt;We meet. Cross paths in the brink of changing lives and on this brink we love each other.&lt;br /&gt;You will hurt me every time you call me when you are drunk, or utter to another girl.&lt;br /&gt;I will hurt you every time I go to him when you hurt me, or I dash your pride.&lt;br /&gt;Our trials will only lead us closer love.&lt;br /&gt;In the end I think of nothing but you. Always.&lt;br /&gt;Make in you and the universe is sensible again.&lt;br /&gt;Love, whoever you are&lt;br /&gt;wether be my black knight, prince on a white horse, jedi knight, guy in the band, or my average joe...I think of you always.&lt;br /&gt;-Love, Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5515085119747166639?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5515085119747166639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5515085119747166639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5515085119747166639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5515085119747166639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/01/dear-love.html' title='Dear, Love'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5716316514127866554</id><published>2009-01-05T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T22:35:42.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'>drop the bomb.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Forgive me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've done nothing wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've taken so long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its the fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fear of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fear of my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fear of the words I might say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fear of knowing I love you more everyday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its scary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I love how it feels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But know how it can hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Crazy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I love it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Every stomach churning turn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Everything about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I fear that I love it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I fear that I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I fear that if I tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The world will stop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My words drop like bombs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Blowing away every fear I had set&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Waiting for the fallout &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You love me to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is something I certainly never knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So now it seems who really dropped the bomb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Is you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5716316514127866554?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5716316514127866554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5716316514127866554' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5716316514127866554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5716316514127866554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2009/01/drop-bomb.html' title='drop the bomb.'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-4176866564776097057</id><published>2008-12-29T17:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T17:18:27.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the angel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What is this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Becoming like someone with new sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Seeing it all for the first time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Amazement makes my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Glitters with hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sparkles with anticipation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I see what is going on around me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Words are falling out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Making myself known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One giant step for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What do you see in me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;An angel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hope for the day that is here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I went looking for a miracle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Looking in obvious dismay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Up and Down in the wrong direction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thinking it to late &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm to far gone in the wrong direction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tap tap on the shoulder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I see my angel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It was you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-4176866564776097057?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/4176866564776097057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=4176866564776097057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4176866564776097057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4176866564776097057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/12/angel.html' title='the angel.'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-8969281472723019687</id><published>2008-12-15T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T10:43:07.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pages</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I keep my life in a book&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Call it a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Journal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Diary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Notebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Whatever you want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I call it my lifes work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I write everything down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And randomocity it seems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But it truly does hold my dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;shaking them loose from my guarded mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Finding their way to people in time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One day it could be on the shelves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Selling itself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But nobody really knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not even I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because it might go unread till the day I die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On the pages I buy time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Make it like I never did before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;All you ever wanted to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Is here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Broken binding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Torn and stained pages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In this book&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You'll find me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-8969281472723019687?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/8969281472723019687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=8969281472723019687' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8969281472723019687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/8969281472723019687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/12/pages.html' title='The Pages'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5106869474284496208</id><published>2008-11-20T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T18:00:09.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost New</title><content type='html'>You make me feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;For living&lt;br /&gt;Crushed beneath the wheel&lt;br /&gt;Burnt by the flame&lt;br /&gt;I always feel that I'm to blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying so hard&lt;br /&gt;Swimming against a current&lt;br /&gt;Screaming for help&lt;br /&gt;You drown me in shame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Locked inside&lt;br /&gt;No key to fit the door&lt;br /&gt;The house is burning&lt;br /&gt;To the floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mad&lt;br /&gt;At myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you make me feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;For living&lt;br /&gt;It's true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever beautifully broken&lt;br /&gt;Far from&lt;br /&gt;Almost new&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5106869474284496208?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5106869474284496208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5106869474284496208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5106869474284496208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5106869474284496208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/11/almost-new.html' title='Almost New'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3483304055103150071</id><published>2008-11-10T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T21:40:26.127-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazingly You and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What were you thinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Silly little girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No time to pout&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Change is upon you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Devastation came&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It went&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Standing up for yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Saying no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Choosing where you want to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Smiles now outnumber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Frowns are rarely from the people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Your light is back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They see it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And realize you were telling the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You found someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its odd to you how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Different&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Life can be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Amazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just Like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You and Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3483304055103150071?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3483304055103150071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3483304055103150071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3483304055103150071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3483304055103150071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/11/amazingly-you-and-me.html' title='Amazingly You and Me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5954325743305352841</id><published>2008-10-14T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T19:56:19.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Reality of this Romance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;School bell rings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Go out turn my phone on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dial his number&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He actually answers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Are you at home?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Yeah."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He answers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Ok. Well bye."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I hang up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Drive down the road&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No caution in the wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Drive up the driveway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He meets me outside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I say nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Embrace him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Enjoy the moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I dont know how long it will last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"I miss you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"I know you want her and won't stop"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"I want you, and I won't stop"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"I couldnt live with  out you knowing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The words fall out like rain from the clouds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Shocked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Speechless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm walking away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He grabs me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Kiss me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He kisses me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I kiss back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We are both understood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Thats it the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;School bell rings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Go out turn my phone on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dial his number&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He dosn't answer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Drive down the road&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sitting at home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wishing he and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Could be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-5954325743305352841?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5954325743305352841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5954325743305352841' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5954325743305352841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5954325743305352841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/10/reality-of-this-romance.html' title='The Reality of this Romance'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2204666765013409030</id><published>2008-10-04T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T21:31:24.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ghost of a girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ghost Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She can't find her body&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Follow the screams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ecstasy and Pleasure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She knows better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Running from the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Of her actions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Forbidden the touch is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Searing and Electric alike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ghost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Knows what is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Screams of pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Begs for it to stop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Waits for it to end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fears what is happening&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The mistake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl Ghost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I gasp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Back in my corpse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Living but dead inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its over&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now I feel the pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Physical yes..but no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Emotionally I am barely alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Alive on the oustide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dead on the inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My night as a ghost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tore her apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2204666765013409030?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2204666765013409030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2204666765013409030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2204666765013409030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2204666765013409030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/10/ghost-of-girl.html' title='ghost of a girl'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2398284096971133337</id><published>2008-10-04T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T15:04:41.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>making sense of this romance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Outside of my window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A melody filters into my ears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Memories playing like a favorite film&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Of yesterday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I close my eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Release the tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Turn my head thinking I can see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your hurting me was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Unintentional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But how could you not know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Or understand that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Your the only thing that makes sense to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Still to this moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know that is true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm singing along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To this tune made of all that is me and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One step and I take a look and see that you are indeed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Outside of my window with your radio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Trying to make sense of this thing we have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One million songs could have hummed through my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But it was that one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So its time for us to decide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Where we are now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Together or apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Till death do us part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Live this Romeo and Juliet type of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Undefined romance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;With you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The only thing that will ever make sense to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2398284096971133337?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2398284096971133337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2398284096971133337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2398284096971133337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2398284096971133337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/10/making-sense-of-this-romance.html' title='making sense of this romance'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3147137944826199841</id><published>2008-09-27T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T22:30:27.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Without</title><content type='html'>Where were you?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't you come?&lt;br /&gt;What was your reason?...&lt;br /&gt;It better be good.&lt;br /&gt;It was much less fun without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats stupid.&lt;br /&gt;You just didn't want to go.&lt;br /&gt;Here look at these pictures.&lt;br /&gt;You would have fun.&lt;br /&gt;You should have came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I see.&lt;br /&gt;Smiles...&lt;br /&gt;Happiness...&lt;br /&gt;Joy...&lt;br /&gt;And I wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't tell me.&lt;br /&gt;What you already know is classifying you a&lt;br /&gt;Hypocrite.&lt;br /&gt;Because I know what you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had fun without me.&lt;br /&gt;Being there wouldn't have changed anything.&lt;br /&gt;So why care now?&lt;br /&gt;Because in the end...&lt;br /&gt;It would have been the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With or&lt;br /&gt;Without...&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3147137944826199841?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3147137944826199841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3147137944826199841' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3147137944826199841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3147137944826199841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/without.html' title='Without'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-6644362756382076315</id><published>2008-09-22T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T20:38:10.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leading Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its an amazing thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This little life I'm gifted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Each day no matter what&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I think about it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Family that loves me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Has my back no matter what&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They want to see me happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;As simply complicated that just is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Friends that keep me insane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That help me laugh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That want to be there even though I'm truly horrible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They know my darkest of secrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But I know they can be trusted to keep them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Times might get rough&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Discouraging life may get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Times like those I have  to sit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Take a moment to remember what's great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Remember that God gifted me another day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;To figure it out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Live for the right reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do what he bids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I have a purpose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I know what I must do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Be true to myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And know that God is leading me through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-6644362756382076315?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/6644362756382076315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=6644362756382076315' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6644362756382076315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6644362756382076315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/leading-me.html' title='Leading Me'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-6626408824342576051</id><published>2008-09-15T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:18:48.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Content Loner</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Each day I wake up not wanting to go to school...and its not because I just don't want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hate wasting all these beautiful days inside....I wouldn't mind if I wasn't confined to such a area where I can be myself but I am judge by my opinions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I use to dread going to school for the first few weeks because I didn't have anyone to hang  out  with..but when I did I found myself more confined than  I did when I was alone.  I didn't know why I felt this way, and it drove me insane almost every night since school started I've cried myself to sleep trying to figure out things about myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After a while of thinking...a near death experience...a good sleep...and a nice day, I realize why I felt that way. I am content with being a loner in atmospheres like school, because I want to be classified as me. Not as them. In a place where someone walks in and try to figure out what group you are in. I am my own person, and I want to be seen as that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have my close and good friends who get that, and  I don't  mind  being classified with them but we are all different enough in personality that we are considered a group of different people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm not saying that I'm against meeting new people, because I love making new friends, but I'm better at on on one  convo because its a chance to get to know somone and them to get to know you without the influence of the rest of the crowd...and vice versa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I got told that I intrigue someone to the point of confusion. I was called different, because I believe something and I believe it on my own accord, and that I look confident being a "loner."&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I use to despise that, being classified.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But after recent reflection...I can say at this point I am proud to be considered a "loner."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Content with myself. And my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/1122526051300384250-6626408824342576051?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/6626408824342576051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=6626408824342576051' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6626408824342576051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6626408824342576051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/content-loner.html' title='Content Loner'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-2110933038864068054</id><published>2008-09-11T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T22:24:22.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't be</title><content type='html'>My passion&lt;br /&gt;Did it does it scare you&lt;br /&gt;I cant help it&lt;br /&gt;Its in my blood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let it spill out&lt;br /&gt;Hoping it will get people to understand&lt;br /&gt;That all of the things I say are&lt;br /&gt;Real within me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day after day&lt;br /&gt;I go on hoping&lt;br /&gt;That you mean it when you say&lt;br /&gt;"I get it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that when I tell you this&lt;br /&gt;You wont run&lt;br /&gt;They all run&lt;br /&gt;I'm just hoping you won't be just&lt;br /&gt;Another face in the crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're my connection&lt;br /&gt;That opposite side&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't have to be told twice&lt;br /&gt;Don't dissapoint me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be just like&lt;br /&gt;Them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-2110933038864068054?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/2110933038864068054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=2110933038864068054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2110933038864068054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/2110933038864068054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/dont-be.html' title='Don&apos;t be'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-4847147470330477626</id><published>2008-09-10T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T23:11:28.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Magic 8 Ball</title><content type='html'>Hanging upside down off the edge of the couch&lt;br /&gt;You're on the floor, twisting my hair&lt;br /&gt;Sends shivers down my spine&lt;br /&gt;You tell joke&lt;br /&gt;I laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magic Eight ball held promise this night&lt;br /&gt;Simple fun&lt;br /&gt;My realizing game&lt;br /&gt;You ask a question, and so do I&lt;br /&gt;Little did we know&lt;br /&gt;Our questions were bound together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't tell&lt;br /&gt;Neither will you&lt;br /&gt;We argue for hours&lt;br /&gt;That's nothing new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tag you're it!&lt;br /&gt;I nearly fall down your voice rings&lt;br /&gt;"You cant catch me."&lt;br /&gt;I made a deal&lt;br /&gt;So did you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I catch you&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you&lt;br /&gt;You will tell me&lt;br /&gt;What we asked the Eight Ball&lt;br /&gt;What made us go weak in the knees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah Ha!&lt;br /&gt;I did it.&lt;br /&gt;You are down for the count.&lt;br /&gt;Silly boy.&lt;br /&gt;I caught you, and I have the bruise to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the couch you and I.&lt;br /&gt;This moment is electric.&lt;br /&gt;My head is on your shoulder, and our hands are warm together.&lt;br /&gt;Blowing in my face you tickle my nose with mint.&lt;br /&gt;We become closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brush of lips we barely touched.&lt;br /&gt;Our revealed questions aren't new.&lt;br /&gt;It should be a crime for us to do that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the morning comes, and the sun rises.&lt;br /&gt;We go back to our living device.&lt;br /&gt;Both with knowing in our eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Dry mouths we turn around and walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taken by him.&lt;br /&gt;You are taken by her.&lt;br /&gt;Both good people we don't deserve.&lt;br /&gt;How could we have the nerve?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth became of that night.&lt;br /&gt;A truth we haven't soon forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Magic Eight Ball knew all.&lt;br /&gt;Does he love me? I asked a simple question.&lt;br /&gt;Does she love me? He asked a simple question.&lt;br /&gt;Both met with the same blinding ittle white letters.&lt;br /&gt;It simply said yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-4847147470330477626?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/4847147470330477626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=4847147470330477626' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4847147470330477626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/4847147470330477626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/magic-8-ball.html' title='The Magic 8 Ball'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3284266881299368670</id><published>2008-09-10T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:47:43.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Her</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm not her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The one of your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Keep me awake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;These thoughts of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Screaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Profane things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Plauge my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My distorted self-image&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyting but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I want you to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You guessed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;No!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because I knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You don't want me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You will never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Want me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If  you ever do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Want me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You will never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tell me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So I cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because I'm still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Believing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3284266881299368670?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3284266881299368670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3284266881299368670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3284266881299368670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3284266881299368670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/her.html' title='Her'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3562691039701319650</id><published>2008-09-10T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:51:35.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Write</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What do I do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm so confused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;How can I do the things I do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm only spilling my heart out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;On paper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm best revealed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Misinterpreting design&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So you can't tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm speaking to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Directly to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What about now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My mind is blind with want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My future is a design not yet created&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the works&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For now I just write&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hoping &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Praying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That these word are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Understood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not by the masses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To you I hopefully write &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3562691039701319650?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3562691039701319650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3562691039701319650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3562691039701319650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3562691039701319650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-do-i-do-im-so-confused-how-can-i.html' title='Why I Write'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-6193308210947508683</id><published>2008-09-06T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T10:16:21.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why, do, say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why waste time with the nerves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why waste time with the doubts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why waste time waiting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do it before you forget what you were doing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do it before you chicken out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do it before its to late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do it before she walks away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Say what you want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Say what you mean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Say everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-6193308210947508683?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/6193308210947508683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=6193308210947508683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6193308210947508683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/6193308210947508683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/why-do-say.html' title='Why, do, say'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-5024040186943067800</id><published>2008-09-02T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T19:29:17.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Play, Dance, Act</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Where did that hope go?&lt;br /&gt;It went with her name&lt;br /&gt;I want the whole satisfaction&lt;br /&gt;of knowing that you said mine instead&lt;br /&gt;I want to be your hope&lt;br /&gt;your relief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk with my head down&lt;br /&gt;Playing for a fool&lt;br /&gt;Dancing in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Acting insane&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of life before you came&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tap to the beat sing&lt;br /&gt;Standing on two own feet&lt;br /&gt;Trying to catch the eye&lt;br /&gt;The beautiful one&lt;br /&gt;Who sees me for me&lt;br /&gt;Everyday you speak to me&lt;br /&gt;I keeping growing weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk with my head level&lt;br /&gt;Playing for a fool&lt;br /&gt;Dancing in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Acting insane&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of life the day you came&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its my time hope I do it right&lt;br /&gt;The lyrics in my head&lt;br /&gt;I hear you say my name instead?&lt;br /&gt;Shock becomes me&lt;br /&gt;I say it&lt;br /&gt;I sing it&lt;br /&gt;I mean it&lt;br /&gt;All for you&lt;br /&gt;I want to be your hope&lt;br /&gt;Because you've become mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk with my head high&lt;br /&gt;Seeing whats inside&lt;br /&gt;I play for a fool&lt;br /&gt;Dance in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Act insane&lt;br /&gt;Think of life&lt;br /&gt;My life everyday with you&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/1122526051300384250-5024040186943067800?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/5024040186943067800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=5024040186943067800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5024040186943067800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/5024040186943067800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/play-dance-act.html' title='Play, Dance, Act'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-7205456537868072073</id><published>2008-09-01T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T18:16:37.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song Tale</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With every lyric of this song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I think of how you held me close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And how you did nothing but look me in the eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;How you seemed so sincere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Every lyric of this song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Makes me remember that one moment in time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When all stood still and it was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Each lyric of this song makes me remember the moment I realized that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I was In Love with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because every lyric of this song makes me think about how every&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Stupid little argument&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Silly joke and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;How Everything &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Made me love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-7205456537868072073?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/7205456537868072073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=7205456537868072073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7205456537868072073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/7205456537868072073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-song-tale.html' title='Love Song Tale'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-459534609701970997</id><published>2008-08-30T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T09:53:17.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Broken Mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;" id="ctl00_cpMain_BulletinRead_ltl_body"&gt;I speak so highly&lt;br /&gt;of a person to the others&lt;br /&gt;to only have them&lt;br /&gt;come and dissapoint me&lt;br /&gt;shatter my soul and&lt;br /&gt;tangle my heart strings&lt;br /&gt;wow so this is what i get&lt;br /&gt;when i look after you&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was in over my head&lt;br /&gt;with words I didnt know to&lt;br /&gt;pronounce&lt;br /&gt;so now&lt;br /&gt;we all look in the&lt;br /&gt;broken mirror&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;the others&lt;br /&gt;a person&lt;br /&gt;and see broken images&lt;br /&gt;of us&lt;br /&gt;I see a fool&lt;br /&gt;the others see a fool&lt;br /&gt;a person sees a fool&lt;br /&gt;look who's laughing now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-459534609701970997?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/459534609701970997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=459534609701970997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/459534609701970997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/459534609701970997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-broken-mirror.html' title='In The Broken Mirror'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1122526051300384250.post-3032717918285992300</id><published>2008-08-30T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T09:50:53.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Before Seen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It doesn't sting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Like is should&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It feels good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I smile out of pure happiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;To fret over it is to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Regret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I regret nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;At one point it was exactly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What I wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sparing a new tone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I say the lyrics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;One person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The person comes along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;To complete&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm looking for a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not so ever after&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm looking for a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Never Before seen in theatres&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Kind of romance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So let's make the headlines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Top the charts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And show them how a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;True love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Starts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Because in reality not all things come to an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;End&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1122526051300384250-3032717918285992300?l=themessyattic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/feeds/3032717918285992300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1122526051300384250&amp;postID=3032717918285992300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3032717918285992300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1122526051300384250/posts/default/3032717918285992300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themessyattic.blogspot.com/2008/08/never-before-seen.html' title='Never Before Seen'/><author><name>Paige Turner The Living Play On Words</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14717979162663663578</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtIO4MWs1wM/S4IgxsEp7pI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tpX9bt9SxuY/S220/IMG_6926.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
