<?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-3550632445818769767</id><updated>2011-07-07T23:09:34.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tarabeara!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-8463333533209767678</id><published>2010-04-17T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T22:20:30.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sinking Ship</title><content type='html'>that's what our relationship feels like to me right now. a sinking ship.&lt;br /&gt;it's been a couple months now since our ship has been sinking, sinking, sinking..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a while back you questioned my love for you, and now i am doing the same. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do you still love me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our relationship just feels like a daily routine. thats harsh, but it's the simplest way to put it.&lt;br /&gt;you barely show any affection towards me. it barely seems like you notice me. we talk about nothing.&lt;br /&gt;this week, will be the same as last week. and next will be the same as this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's always the same, never changing. a routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly, that burning passion we used to have burned out somewhere along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you. i love you uncontrollably. but sometimes i wonder how and why we are even together.&lt;br /&gt;i want to be with you, i unquestionably know that. but i wonder about you. i wonder if we SHOULD be together. our relationship has become so...bland. i've tried fixing it, but i don't know what to do. i don't feel like i ever get anything in return. should we take a break? what do we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i don't know what to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you need to help me, baby, please. HELP ME.&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i'm suffocating. i feel like i'm losing you.&lt;br /&gt;i am utterly and completely losing you. that's what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you. i want to be with you all the time. but at the same time, you are the ONLY thing in my time. sometimes i worry that our lives have just become to revolved around one another.&lt;br /&gt;i don't have a problem with that. but...i feel like we're missing out.&lt;br /&gt;we don't hang out with our friends, ESPECIALLY me. whenever we DO go hang it's always with your friends...i mean i guess i'm friends with them too, but they're YOUR friends.&lt;br /&gt;i miss hanging with my friends. but i feel bad, because whenever i go do something without you, you're usually stuck at home doing nothing because you don't have a ride. and i feel like if you're not doing anything, i shouldn't be doing anything....&lt;br /&gt;idk. i'm not sure what my point is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-8463333533209767678?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/8463333533209767678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/04/sinking-ship.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/8463333533209767678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/8463333533209767678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/04/sinking-ship.html' title='A Sinking Ship'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-1774216674242378292</id><published>2010-01-31T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T20:01:25.688-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why</title><content type='html'>cant you ever just see it from my point of view for once?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-1774216674242378292?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/1774216674242378292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/why_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/1774216674242378292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/1774216674242378292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/why_31.html' title='why'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-2046576248411634235</id><published>2010-01-28T19:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T19:05:49.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why</title><content type='html'>must i constantly tear myself apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-2046576248411634235?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/2046576248411634235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/2046576248411634235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/2046576248411634235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/why.html' title='why'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-943219516550829205</id><published>2010-01-20T19:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T20:32:28.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not even sure what I want to vent about, there's just one big collage of different thoughts swirling around inside my brain. I don't even know what to do with myself. I can't even organize all of my different thoughts into different categories, they all just explode out at me at once. It is so irritating, especially at times like these when I want to let everything out.&lt;br /&gt;People keep saying that 2010 is going to be a huge year, and I want that to apply to myself as well. I feel like I haven't done anything at all, and I swear I want to be productive. There are so many things I want to do, but there's so much of it that I don't even know where to begin. It gets so overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;I have so many goals, and I want to accomplish each and every one of them, but how can I when I constantly doubt myself? I suppose it's human nature to doubt yourself, but come on, I need some confidence.&lt;br /&gt;My main goal is to get my body the way that I want it. To get myself to a point where I'm content with how I look. I definitely am working at it, and it takes time, but it's so frustrating when you want results right away, and see nothing. Patience is a necessity when changing yourself, and that is something that I lack.&lt;br /&gt;I guess it all comes in good time, though. I just got to keep breathing, and live through each day, each minute, each second - and everything will come at it's own pace.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I want to conquer my anxiety. I want to be able to be surrounded by my peers and not feel the need to shake, or to tense up. I want to be comfortable with myself, and with others - to be able to connect with everyone around me. I feel so detached.&lt;br /&gt;And would it kill anyone to hire me? I hate depending on other people, it makes me feel bad. I want to make my own money, and to be able to fend for myself. But of course the economy has to suck when I'm looking for a job. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;And maybe the thing I want most, is to maintain a healthy relationship. I am one of the more fortunate teenagers out there that has found someone that I love, and that loves me in return. Over time flames die out, and the passion dies with it, but I believe it can always be re-kindled and brought back alive. And I strive everyday to KEEP it burning and alive. I want it to stay that way, I never want it to die. And what most people don't realize is that is a very complicated thing. But either way, we're good now, and I couldn't ask for anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The future really scares me. And although this may sound naive to most people, I want to marry Anthony some day. I want to be able to keep our relationship solid for years to come, up to a point of marriage, and I just hope I'm able to do that. I always fear that I'm not enough for him, or that he'll lose interest over time, and I want more than anything to prevent that from happening. My main goal in life is to marry him and start a family with him. While it would never cross my mind to start at this age, I would love to have his children.&lt;br /&gt;But aside from marriage, I worry about my career. There are literally so many things that I would like to do, and to learn.&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost - I want to be a psychiatrist. I already am able to connect with peoples emotions and problems so well, and am able to analyze things very easily. I believe that I could be a wonderful psychiatrist. But the amount of years of school it takes to do it...it scares me. Could I do it? Would I be able to get financial aid for all those years? How would I support myself in the mean time? These are all questions that present obstacles. But still, it's my ambition.&lt;br /&gt;I want to learn cosmetology, culinary arts, to pierce. I almost want to be a teacher as well.&lt;br /&gt;How on earth does one decide what to do?&lt;br /&gt;I want to inspire people, and help people.&lt;br /&gt;I could do that with all of those, except piercing of course.&lt;br /&gt;I guess the answer will come to me when the time is right, but I hate not knowing things.&lt;br /&gt;I want to know now.&lt;br /&gt;I want to know now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-943219516550829205?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/943219516550829205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-not-even-sure-what-i-want-to-vent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/943219516550829205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/943219516550829205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-not-even-sure-what-i-want-to-vent.html' title=''/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-118980975062104187</id><published>2010-01-13T14:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T14:21:43.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it</title><content type='html'>feels so empty without you here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-118980975062104187?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/118980975062104187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/118980975062104187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/118980975062104187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/it.html' title='it'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3550632445818769767.post-4184556792460390718</id><published>2010-01-09T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T23:07:06.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i just wish</title><content type='html'>that for one second, i could stop comparing myself too everyone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3550632445818769767-4184556792460390718?l=taraaabeara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/feeds/4184556792460390718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-just-wish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/4184556792460390718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3550632445818769767/posts/default/4184556792460390718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taraaabeara.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-just-wish.html' title='i just wish'/><author><name>Tarabearaa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06078078851352126834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N6FwYs-sAVo/SaMk1Stw7BI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gk8zaP4d_d0/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
