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  <title>michelle ♥</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/</link>
  <description>michelle ♥ - LiveJournal.com</description>
  <lastBuildDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 00:00:46 GMT</lastBuildDate>
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  <lj:journal>michelleroni</lj:journal>
  <lj:journalid>16441607</lj:journalid>
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    <title>michelle ♥</title>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/13429.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 00:00:46 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>GAHH.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/13429.html</link>
  <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes when I look at you, and you&amp;rsquo;re looking back at me, I can see something. This teeny-tiny hint of something more, something you&amp;rsquo;re feeling but can&amp;rsquo;t say. When our eyes meet, it&amp;rsquo;s like we&amp;rsquo;re instantly connected. And I know no one catches it but me and you, but I like it that way. It&amp;rsquo;s like our own little secret, a place we go to when everything around us is crazy and we just need some semblance of normal. Gosh, your eyes are gorgeous. There are times when I want nothing more than to look you in the eyes just in the way they convey that mournful, wistful, feeling, a bit of lonely, a bit of lost and yet a bit of hopelessness.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It&amp;rsquo;s when we&amp;rsquo;re looking at each other in silence that we end up saying the most.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;things that are thoughtful yet poetic like this i tend to post them on both. but seriously you&apos;re killing me here. get your facts straight and get back to me. i can&apos;t deal with this right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/13130.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 03:20:52 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>woah k.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/13130.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you&apos;re too cute. just saying. gah. it&apos;s just great that i can laugh with you, sit with you, hold a conversation forever and ever and ever and ever... i missed having that from someone, and right now, you&apos;re that. is it bad to say i can&apos;t get you off my mind? ...possibly. probably. &lt;br /&gt;it&apos;s too soon to say whether this will turn into anything, but in the back of my mind i&apos;m sort of hoping it does. hmmm.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12825.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 02 Oct 2009 13:38:03 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>ack!!!</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12825.html</link>
  <description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sense a pattern. and not just any pattern. it&apos;s like i&apos;m having deja vu insanely, and i don&apos;t want this to happen again. well. quite frankly i wouldn&apos;t mind it happening, just not the same as last time. not the same way, not the same person. and quite frankly, at the moment i can&apos;t see myself with you. but i have an inkling that my sister is right. in some ways i hope she is, and in other ways, i hope she isn&apos;t. ack. why is this like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hardly know you. i don&apos;t want it to get to the point where my stomach jumps whenever i get to see you; talk to you. but i sense a pattern. it&apos;s almost inevitable for me to develop feelings for you because you&apos;re new in my life, intriguing, and seemingly good to me. those two hours on the bus were well spent talking with you. now that all 4 of us are getting closer, senoir year is going to be awesome in that class. we could be like jackie-andrew-trevor-sydney that good. i see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but. deja vu. hmm. drugs? really? but then when you told me that, you also told me you didn&apos;t drink and it seemed like you were hoping that would make it better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m so confused right now&amp;nbsp; i could explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anybody reading this that i know, call me or text me or something. help me. i&apos;ll fill you in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</description>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 24 Sep 2009 04:22:50 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>hmm.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12650.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img class=&quot;image&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;http://1.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kqcl5lLnCT1qzfy6zo1_400.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12392.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 01:14:59 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>rantrantrant...</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12392.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;i&amp;rsquo;m beyond disappointed in you. i didn&amp;rsquo;t expect that of you at all. you said you knew your limits, but you obviously didn&amp;rsquo;t&amp;hellip; and getting so smashed that you didn&amp;rsquo;t even know where you were and can&amp;rsquo;t even remember what you did doesn&amp;rsquo;t exactly make anyone think higher of you. you screwed up, i get that. everybody screws up. but you need to realize it probably won&amp;rsquo;t be the same with everyone for&amp;nbsp;quite some time now, especially with her, and her. just don&amp;rsquo;t bitch to me about it - i don&amp;rsquo;t know what to tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;and lay off the freaking alcohol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;display: none; clear: both; overflow: hidden&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;notes_hide_link&quot; style=&quot;display: none&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12265.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 29 Aug 2009 04:28:02 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>a little rant.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/12265.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;i&apos;ve never really gotten attention from boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;ever. in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;so now whenever a guy even &lt;i&gt;begins&lt;/i&gt; to show any interest in me,&amp;nbsp;i usually avoid them to the best of my ability. one reason&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;that i&amp;rsquo;m terrified of being in&amp;nbsp;a relationship, and another reason&amp;nbsp;is that&amp;nbsp;i tend to get my hopes up way too quickly and then when i&amp;rsquo;m disappointed later on and it all comes crashing down, it really sucks. really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11794.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 17:23:55 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>read the headlines, baby.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11794.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;What&amp;nbsp;I don&amp;rsquo;t understand is why people do the things they do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;The other day,&amp;nbsp;I was practicing my Beethoven. It was so hot out,&amp;nbsp;I was all sweaty and looked like crap. Nonetheless&amp;nbsp;I have a piano exam coming up, so&amp;nbsp;I needed to practice my Beethoven, at the nice piano, the one in our house&amp;rsquo;s biggest picture window.&amp;nbsp;I like the sun, couldn&amp;rsquo;t be bothered to shut the blinds,&amp;nbsp;opened the window, and&amp;nbsp;I just went on with&amp;nbsp;business not caring and just focusing on the keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toward the end of the piece, during one of those big showy parts,&amp;nbsp;I heard footsteps up the walk. People come selling stuff all the time. Whatever.&amp;nbsp;I didn&amp;rsquo;t really care. I&amp;rsquo;d go and talk about Jesus some other time. Nearing the fine&amp;rsquo; moreso now, the footsteps had come to a stop. My first thought was that the whoeveritwas had just left, but then&amp;nbsp;I realized&amp;nbsp;I hadn&amp;rsquo;t heard a knock or a doorbell. So, at the final cadence,&amp;nbsp;I turned to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;It was a paperboy. The newspaper was still in his hand, he was halfway up the walk, and was in no way trying to hide the fact he was staring.&amp;nbsp;I just cocked my head to the side and looked at him.&amp;nbsp;Looked much&amp;nbsp;younger than me, maybe about thirteen, like he hadn&amp;rsquo;t quite grown into his body, awkward little thing.&amp;nbsp;Medium height, blonde, had that shaggy dog sort of thing going on. Cute, in a little kid sort of way. He finally seemed to remember what he was there for and put the newspaper down where he was, halfway up the walk. And he left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;I thought about it for a while afterward. Maybe he thought I was pretty. Maybe he thought I looked awful.&amp;nbsp;Maybe he hadn&amp;rsquo;t seen a girl playing Beethoven before. Maybe he had heard the&amp;nbsp;piece and recognized my mistakes. Maybe he plays too. Maybe I&amp;rsquo;ll see him at camp and ask him about it. Endless maybes, and I couldn&amp;rsquo;t really come up with a reason why that happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;Needless to say, though, I felt flattered. I felt flattered for the first time in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;Thank you, paperboy. Wherever you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11612.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 11 Jul 2009 23:40:50 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>okay so.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11612.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I reeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyy want that book store job. *runs in circles*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11612.html</comments>
  <lj:mood>bouncy</lj:mood>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11316.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 02 Jul 2009 03:34:05 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>we sure are cute for two ugly people.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11316.html</link>
  <description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people ask me why I&apos;m so down lately, I don&apos;t have the heart to tell them. It&apos;s as self-centred as it gets, I know, but I can&apos;t really get past it. It&apos;s the strangest thing. But it hurts even more now. It&apos;s really... stupid. Like me, as you know. The stupid freak. But this morning, my mom&apos;s all &amp;quot;Why are you taking so long to get ready? You&apos;re turning into your sister!&amp;quot; Yeah, mom, like that&apos;s gonna hurry me along. If you knew me, you would know that sometimes, especially lately, I wish&amp;nbsp;I &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; turn into my sister. Main reason&amp;nbsp;being: she&apos;s beautiful.&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;I wish I&amp;nbsp;was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;It&apos;s just not that easy. It&apos;s one thing for people to tell you you&apos;re beautiful, and another completely to &lt;em&gt;feel &lt;/em&gt;that way. I don&apos;t feel pretty...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I make myself up. That&apos;s probably why it&apos;s called makeup - you put it on to play pretend, like you played when you were six. Pretend was a fun game, because you could be anything you wanted to. You could be a firefighter-princess-dinosaur-professor-doctor-lawyer-pope-supermodel all rolled into one whenever you wanted to. It seemed that firefighter-princess-dinosaur-professor-doctor-lawyer-pope-supermodels always wanted to wear some of mommy&apos;s lip gloss, so that seems almost the same...yet, they didn&apos;t make anything of it. &lt;em&gt;They were just playing pretend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Now, though, I find myself thinking that I don&apos;t wear makeup just to play pretend. It&apos;s that, sure, but it&apos;s also because I have something to hide. It&apos;s more than the odd blemish here and there, or a red splotch standing in the way of a perfect complexion. No. It&apos;s that I try to compensate for the fact that I live in the primped, hairsprayed, sparkly, dazzling shadow of my gorgeous sister.&amp;nbsp;Insecurity.&amp;nbsp;I think it&apos;s that I hope that maybe, if I was pretty, people would pay more attention to me or at least start to move away from that smart one/pretty one comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom calling up the stairs and asking me that today made me think about why I use the stuff in the first place. Now I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11102.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 27 Jun 2009 19:20:33 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>just to put this out there:</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/11102.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;sometimes you just&amp;nbsp;have to give up on people. i may be of no real value to you... i guess i&apos;m cool with that. but can&apos;t you see what you&apos;re doing to yourself? you know he has lung cancer from doing the exact same thing you do, yet you still do it. you don&apos;t even pay attention to my attempts to stop you anymore. what is wrong with you people?! at this rate, you&apos;re going to fucking &lt;em&gt;die &lt;/em&gt;before i&apos;m 25 and you don&apos;t even give a hoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you too, mom and dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;everyone&apos;s a letdown, it just depends on how far down they can go.&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <lj:music>newport living - cute is what we aim for.</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">newport living - cute is what we aim for.</media:title>
  <lj:mood>nauseated</lj:mood>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10949.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2009 04:03:57 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>pardon me while i burst.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10949.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;about the possiblity of anything working... never mind. i sure know how to pick em, don&apos;t i?&lt;br /&gt;silly me, letting myself feel that way. never more than just his sister, i suppose. i don&apos;t view him as a brother, though. because if i did, well. that would be. well. weird. but doesn&apos;t saying that imply that&amp;nbsp;you wouldn&apos;t feel that way? if you had told me before that i was like a sister to you, i would have thought cool beans. but now it&apos;s ugh. whyyy. why why why do i ever think that things will ever work.&lt;br /&gt;i just shouldn&apos;t. it only leads to my downfall.&lt;br /&gt;it&apos;s not that i started to feel like this for you because i miss &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;. no. it&apos;s not that. i can&apos;t even explain why i feel the way i do for you. i know i shouldn&apos;t.&lt;br /&gt;i just miss the feeling i used to get. and when i started to get that feeling again, i kind of jumped on it. but who can blame me? only me, i guess.&lt;br /&gt;i suppose i&apos;m just the one with no chance in hell regarding anything of the sort.&lt;br /&gt;but i still hope...&lt;br /&gt;but i shouldn&apos;t...&lt;br /&gt;but i do.&lt;br /&gt;why am i so stupid?! why, God, am i so stupid?&lt;br /&gt;and now you ask me what&apos;s up, because it seems like something&apos;s wrong.&lt;br /&gt;i don&apos;t even think i should tell you what.&lt;br /&gt;save myself the trouble.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <lj:mood>discontent</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 19 Jun 2009 22:42:27 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>i don&apos;t feel any different.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10642.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;grade 10 down the tubes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the more i think about it, the more i think it actually might work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10343.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 15 Jun 2009 01:35:54 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>move on, nothing deep here.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10343.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;life&apos;s a bitch. and i suppose&amp;nbsp;i mean that in the most loving way possible, because i&apos;m sure if i&apos;m nasty karma will get me. but seriously... there&apos;s got to be something wrong with me. or my family or something. but more likely me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i can hear you yelling at me in my dreams, there&apos;s really no escape, is there? nothing left, not even just the chance to &lt;em&gt;go&lt;/em&gt;. and i wake up and the tears start again. damn eyes, why do you cry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after all, life&apos;s just a bitch.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <lj:music>zzzzz - the cab</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">zzzzz - the cab</media:title>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:20:03 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>lost.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/10190.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;quot;for a time i thought there was&amp;nbsp;a thief among us,&lt;br /&gt;i thought i&apos;d track him down but prior to my pursuit&lt;br /&gt;the smoke had cleared and to my disbelief,&lt;br /&gt;they was no thief; cause it was me that lost you.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i l o v e y o u r e l i e n t k &amp;hearts;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you asked me what you are to me. and i had the sudden urge to say &amp;quot;everything.&amp;quot; but i said &amp;quot;amazing&amp;quot; instead. you said you couldn&apos;t use that. so i said it. &amp;quot;everything.&amp;quot; and what did you say? &amp;quot;wow.&amp;quot; just wow. but then changed the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;sometimes things are just beyond control.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*facepalm* *headdesk*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;i&apos;m restless and why do i&lt;br /&gt;i want nothing but to rest my soul.&amp;quot;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
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  <lj:mood>confused</lj:mood>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9926.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 07 Jun 2009 01:07:15 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>you live downtown, where depression&apos;s just status quo.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9926.html</link>
  <description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&amp;quot;down on skid row... someone show me a way to get out of here.&amp;quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #00ccff&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t help but get the feeling that people aren&apos;t listening to what i&apos;m saying. maybe you don&apos;t care. i don&apos;t know. i really hope you do, but it seems possible that you don&apos;t. i&apos;m trying to deal with this as best i can, i&apos;m feeling as though i&apos;ve been robbed of my happy. and of course the cymbalta isn&apos;t approved. figures. but is &amp;quot;help&amp;quot; not a serious enough word for you to pay attention to? maybe it&apos;ll take me doing something really stupid, just to make you listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9926.html</comments>
  <category>skid row - little shop of horrors</category>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9578.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 08 May 2009 22:47:30 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>nasa ain&apos;t got nothin&apos; on me.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9578.html</link>
  <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you&apos;ve moved on so much&lt;br /&gt;that i&apos;m surprised we&apos;re&lt;br /&gt;even in the same galaxy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and for months, i was the&lt;br /&gt;one venturing out in my&lt;br /&gt;little rocketship, wishing&lt;br /&gt;on comets and searching&lt;br /&gt;the milky way. the oxygen&lt;br /&gt;supply was always lacking&lt;br /&gt;and the glass was always&lt;br /&gt;fogging and i was echoing&lt;br /&gt;one of the apollos. but&lt;br /&gt;houston, this landing wont&lt;br /&gt;be anything worth remembering　　　　　　 　　　&lt;br /&gt;　　　　　　 　　　　　　 　　　　　　 　　　　　 　　　&lt;i&gt;y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;because just as 　　　　　　 　　　　　　　　　 &lt;i&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;i was about to 　　　　　　 　　　　　　 　　 &lt;i&gt;w&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;make my return 　　　　　　　　　　 　　&lt;i&gt;a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;to earth via crash-　　　　　　 　　&lt;i&gt;　&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;landing destruction,　　　　　　 &lt;i&gt;up&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i pulled out of the 　　　　　&lt;i&gt;up&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fatal dive and soared&lt;i&gt; up&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and now i&apos;m roaming the universe on my own,&lt;br /&gt;kissing stars and gliding along saturn&apos;s rings&lt;br /&gt;oh no, you won&apos;t ever bring me down again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9578.html</comments>
  <lj:music>cross my heart (acoustic) - marianas trench</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">cross my heart (acoustic) - marianas trench</media:title>
  <lj:mood>refreshed</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9375.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 05 May 2009 03:25:44 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>a hopeless, psychotic musician.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9375.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if every note i sang and every chord i played were a puff of air, a gust of wind... my song would blow you away and i would be long gone from here. that piece that i play, that arpeggio that i sing... it&apos;s ongoing. it&apos;s every day in this life. you can&apos;t possibly understand what goes into every downward press on the ebony and ivory. that&apos;s some pretty heavy stuff. the fighting scenes, the i love yous; the triumphant moments, the sighs of defeat - it&apos;s all in there. and as life goes on the crunch of the red notes becomes more clearly defined. as my life&apos;s song plays out, i realize it&apos;s full of mistakes. it isn&apos;t perfect. it never will be... and that&apos;s okay. but the first movemend ascends higher and i come closer to its peak, wondering what will happen when i descend. maybe it&apos;s like hitting rewind, and maybe... just maybe i&apos;ll be able to step back enough to erase every nuance of you from my song. the tiniest little inflection in the lightest keystroke could bear memory of that time. would have, should have, could have been. the very thought of you could send me over the edge in a frenzy of blips, accents and broken melodies that were never meant to be in my music. and finally it will hit me in the loudest, most overbearing, gruesome crescendo known to man so far that you were my mistake. it was you then, it&apos;s you now, and i&apos;m ready to be finished with it. so even though i can&apos;t turn back the page in my score and erase you entirely, i&apos;m left with a lesson. a lesson that heartstrings can&apos;t last through so much pounding and stretching as that of a piano. that&apos;s why sometimes i think maybe it would be easier if i could abandon my heart on that bench right there and let the music keep me alive instead. that way when they tell me it&apos;s what&apos;s inside that really counts, i might be able to believe it. i could play for them the most beautiful song straight from my music-box heart. and maybe... just maybe i&apos;ll come across someone who really loves me for what i am: a hopeless, psychotic musician.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/9375.html</comments>
  <lj:music>defying gravity - idina menzel - wicked</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">defying gravity - idina menzel - wicked</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8984.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 09 Apr 2009 03:59:34 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>i&apos;ve been thinking</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8984.html</link>
  <description>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that i don&apos;t want life to be awkward. love is a gamble, a risk, a joke i know. maybe it&apos;s not worth the pain of losing what i&apos;ve got.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8984.html</comments>
  <lj:music>don&apos;t ever change - audio summer</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">don&apos;t ever change - audio summer</media:title>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8943.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 06 Apr 2009 22:23:29 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>*sigh of defeat.*</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8943.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose i already do love you, but not in a lovey way. if that makes sense. more of a you&apos;re an awesome, close friend and you&apos;re there for me through anything even if i&apos;m incredibly stupid to you, not afraid to let you see me at my worst because i know you&apos;ll take me as i am... unconditional. without borders. that sort of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have felt another kind of love before, but the differences are plainly obvious. the lovey sort of love, wanting to just sit with someone in their arms and not worry about anything else, steal a kiss when they least expect it, comfort. that sort of love is different, and not what i feel for you i don&apos;t think. not yet anyways. although love changes, and it changes everything. and maybe i don&apos;t want the love i feel towards you to change, and maybe i do. i&apos;m not sure where i stand. maybe it&apos;s inevitable. maybe i can&apos;t stop this, as much as i try. it&apos;s seeming that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the hardest thing to deal with, or at least one of them, is unreturned feelings. i can&apos;t handle another slap in the face to my pride, so why even bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then again. if this worked. it would honestly be the best damn thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;huh. you&apos;d think falling for your best friend would be easier, feel better. this feels.... &lt;em&gt;right, &lt;/em&gt;at least in my eyes. but what about yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh of defeat...*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8943.html</comments>
  <lj:music>grace - saving jane</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">grace - saving jane</media:title>
  <lj:mood>hopeful</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8647.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 04 Apr 2009 03:59:15 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>damn.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8647.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you have new feelings on top of completely unresolved, different ones, it really is the buzzkill of the century&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;i basically have 2 options. and a 3rd but the 2 are basically, keep bothering with someone i care about but i dont think cares about me and complicate my life, orrrrrr bother with someone that i know definitely cares about me but still complicate my life. and the 3rd is to just not bother, but that complicates it more. daaaamn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t understand this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it shouldnt be this way i decided it wasn&apos;t going to be this way but i guess it is.... dammit i&apos;m so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;damn.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8647.html</comments>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8433.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 02 Apr 2009 13:48:14 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>my new philosophy.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8433.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when one door closes, another one opens, but you really have to pry the new one open and seal the old one shut before anything good can come out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you shouldn&apos;t bother spending all your time on the people that don&apos;t care about you, and focus on the ones that do. see what you&apos;ve been missing, the people that loved&amp;nbsp; you all along, and that you love too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh shit, the realizations i come to.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8433.html</comments>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8184.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 26 Mar 2009 03:56:38 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>this is bullshit.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8184.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m tired of being thrown around like some unbreakable object. honestly i can&apos;t withstand the force of this one.&lt;br /&gt;fuck you. i hate this. i always finish last.&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m stupid. i don&apos;t listen to the people that care about me, what they have to say, what they think.&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m stupid. i am so fucking stupid.&lt;br /&gt;someone knock me out. i dont want to feel this pain anymore.&lt;br /&gt;you fucking suck. everything you said to me was just gone in a matter of five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;trust is not defineable for me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;you bulldozed down the walls i had put up. i trusted you. and you fucking stomped on my heart.&lt;br /&gt;i love you. bullshit.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/8184.html</comments>
  <lj:mood>drained</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7741.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 24 Mar 2009 03:59:57 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>i miss you.</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7741.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;ve thought about this long and hard. i don&apos;t know why, but i suppose when your heart is racing and your mind is all over the place, you think about pretty much anything. like seriously. i was pretty much like a moth to a light, how they just can&apos;t stay away, even though they know they should... but simply can&apos;t. it&apos;s inevitable. i have to come to terms with the fact that you&apos;re not coming back. it&apos;s just childish to think that you are. i mean, if i get upset i get treated like a child, told to stop being so childish - but never consoled in the way that i wanted; to hear the words out of someone else&apos;s mouth, that you&apos;re still here, that i&apos;m dreaming and that when i wake, you&apos;ll be back. sheltered, like a child. i wish it were so, but it&apos;s not like that... and then you get to those days where you can&apos;t seem to grasp onto whatever life raft is being held out to you. you&apos;re clawing at it but it feels like it&apos;s slipping. all because there&apos;s a hole where you&apos;re meant to be, still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;r.i.p.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......who am i kidding. just get back here. please.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7741.html</comments>
  <lj:music>the way i am - ingrid michaelson</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">the way i am - ingrid michaelson</media:title>
  <lj:mood>crushed</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7630.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sun, 22 Mar 2009 03:04:32 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>take me with you, i start to miss you...</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7630.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never actually realized how much i missed you until i was with you. now i just miss you more. not a good deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7630.html</comments>
  <lj:music>cross my heart - marianas trench</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">cross my heart - marianas trench</media:title>
  <lj:mood>discontent</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7360.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 18 Mar 2009 22:12:08 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>deal or no deal?</title>
  <link>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7360.html</link>
  <description>&lt;span style=&quot;color: #808000&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: smaller&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i think about all the change in my life recently, it&apos;s just this big blur. like friends... you gain some, lose some, don&apos;t know about some. i thought that it would be perfect, that i would go through the rest of my high school years with all my friends, plus new ones. now it&apos;s pretty much just lost ones. they keep slipping away. i hope that isn&apos;t the same with the few i have left because they are true blue. dark blue, dark blue... i have jack&apos;s mannequin running through my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as for&amp;nbsp; you.&lt;br /&gt;you, the difficult one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t even count how many times i&apos;ve thought of ending this. i don&apos;t know what&apos;s stopping me. i mean, what difference would it make, honestly? other than that i&apos;d be free from the chains of relationshit. what&apos;s the use of this? what&apos;s&amp;nbsp; the point? we&apos;re in high school... sure, some people marry their high school sweethearts....what-the hell-ever. i don&apos;t see that. i don&apos;t see&amp;nbsp;any outcomes of this other than stress, tears, suspicion, paranoia....&amp;nbsp;this&amp;nbsp;psychopathic&amp;nbsp;grin on&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;face...&amp;nbsp;and an excuse to think someone actually loves me. but i can&apos;t let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so... deal or no deal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description>
  <comments>http://michelleroni.livejournal.com/7360.html</comments>
  <lj:music>dark blue - jack&apos;s mannequin</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">dark blue - jack&apos;s mannequin</media:title>
  <lj:mood>okay</lj:mood>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
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