<?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-5061813356378319524</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:46:57.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting my thoughts on paper.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061813356378319524/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ilovemohawks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00614082174936378181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sSlHcl7ZmZo/TKsbErDwA2I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/kmU0UIbQRsI/S220/l_4a8224b385bf468f9ca2a7888aae09ff.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061813356378319524.post-6307620920847852973</id><published>2011-01-28T09:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T09:50:32.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For anyone who knows what its like to hide their pain behind a smile....</title><content type='html'>There was a point in time where people didn't hide themselves behind  fake smiled and laughter. There was a point in time where each and every  smile was real and filled with joy instead of hidden pain. In order to  go back to that we would have to go back in time entirely, go back to  when all we cared about was what color power ranger and the only time we  cried was when we fell and cut ourselves, but we never cried long  because we wanted to be the tough guy the could handle the pain and  laughed it off. Now when we cry we cry ourselves to sleep or spend the  entire night crying. Lets go back when we would take turns being the  blue ranger. One day you would be the blue ranger and the next day your  best friend would be. Back when you both you run around and hate having  to go inside to eat and had to wait till the next day before you two got  to hang out. When everyone would meet up at the park and run around  being a super hero because we didn't have to be doctors and lawyers.  Because we could be the blue ranger even though we were girl and where  we could fly with the birds because our imaginations would take us that  far. Now let take a walk in to the real world now. Now we know what  parents are really fighting about and the hurtful words aren't fixed so  easily and so easily forgotten. Now we hate more things and love less.  Now we cry more and laugh less. Now the real world is only a few steps  in front of us and we have to be that Lawyer or that music producer  because if we aren't we aren't going to survive long. Now one day we  can't be batman and the next be the flash now or careers and families  are going to be all we have and even then we can barely rely on our  families. Our families are the ones that cause us the most pain. The  people we love most cause us the most pain. So for the time being we  drowned ourselves in our music and act as if nothing is wrong. We scream  loudly but the music is still louder. We drowned our pain but like a  dead body it always resurfaces and we are forced to face it again. It  gets harder and harder for us to fun away because the problems continue  to grow. Only we truthfully know ourselves and how each situation  effects us and over time people realize what affects people in what  ways. We push people away in the hope we push the pain away but that  only makes the pain grow more because then we feel alone even when we  are surrounded by people. So now it is time for the key lesson in all of  this. Stop wanting to grow up, stop pushing people away, stop hiding  your pain, its okay to cry, don't be in a hurry to face the real world  because its not going anywhere. We aren't promised tomorrow so we should  start spending it as happy as we were when we were power rangers and  playing with dolls and action figures because some day we will be the  doctors and lawyers and music producers of our generation, we will be  the firefighters and the police. We control the future so lets actually  be the ones that make it brighter instead of gloomy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061813356378319524-6307620920847852973?l=puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/6307620920847852973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/2011/01/for-anyone-who-knows-what-its-like-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061813356378319524/posts/default/6307620920847852973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061813356378319524/posts/default/6307620920847852973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/2011/01/for-anyone-who-knows-what-its-like-to.html' title='For anyone who knows what its like to hide their pain behind a smile....'/><author><name>Ilovemohawks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00614082174936378181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sSlHcl7ZmZo/TKsbErDwA2I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/kmU0UIbQRsI/S220/l_4a8224b385bf468f9ca2a7888aae09ff.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061813356378319524.post-3301053473934394211</id><published>2011-01-28T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T09:39:39.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Muder, the killer, the victim</title><content type='html'>Murder, terrible from all aspects but unique as well. Each murder  committed is different. Whether the technique or the person. No two  killers kill the same way. Even as a killer tries to imitate a historic  murderer they still do things differently, think differently, motives  are even different. Some kill for the sick obsession other kill because  of impulse. Some even kill because they have no control, mentally  unstable. For the murderers that were never caught, did they truly get  away. Are they really free from the prison they deserve to rot in or do  they suffer the ways their victim or victims do? To be slain for no  plausible reason, to have a life ended for no apparent reason. There is  no way to describe what the killer is feeling. Though many killers have  had books written about them and have been studied no one will  truthfully know what they were feeling unless they were there sharing  the body of the murderer. We can only imagine the real fear and pain the  victim was feeling. To suffer, to not have a chance to right all of  their wrong, to not be able to say goodbye to the people they loved  most. We know nothing of how that really feels.The world looks  different. Does the victim truly see their life flash before their eyes  like a roll of film playing their life in fast forward. Do they feel  regret or is their mind and body so consumed with fear that they can't  feel anything but fear? Do we dare question these things? Would we want  to be able to comprehend such things? Would knowing all of these things  help us solve those many unsolved murders and mysteries? Could we tell  the story of the wrongly silenced innocence? Would a person really want  to tell the story? The amount of trauma a person is to face both  mentally and physically. To be ripped from the living world and thrown  away as if there were a piece of trash. Their voices unheard. The silent  screams of America. Parents fear the call from the police that their  child will not be coming home. Their body is found but it is no longer  their child. Their child was filled with life and now laying before them  is an empty shell, a nightmare that will drift into a persons memory to  forever haunt them till their life ends as well. Do we, as a society, really understand the fear and point of view of the victim? Could we comprehend the feelings the killer has towards the victim? Could we ever know this pain ourselves with out the actual damage being done? If we were to know this said pain would we able to talk about it or would it scar us so bad mentally that the constant thought itself would kill us? To enter the mind of a  killer is entering madness itself. To see the expressions of the poor  lives that were ended. Is there really any reason good enough to take a  life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5061813356378319524-3301053473934394211?l=puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/3301053473934394211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/2011/01/muder-killer-victim.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061813356378319524/posts/default/3301053473934394211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5061813356378319524/posts/default/3301053473934394211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puttingmythoughtsonpaper.blogspot.com/2011/01/muder-killer-victim.html' title='Muder, the killer, the victim'/><author><name>Ilovemohawks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00614082174936378181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sSlHcl7ZmZo/TKsbErDwA2I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/kmU0UIbQRsI/S220/l_4a8224b385bf468f9ca2a7888aae09ff.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
