<?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-8290696059385072977</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:08:52.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a view into my mind.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-859715040956636156</id><published>2010-06-10T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T17:09:36.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams... 6/10/10</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been dreaming a lot about Cody. I wish I knew why... Last night, in my dream, we were on a bus and he was sitting in front of me. I got up enough courage to thank him for being there for me. So, this dream is one of those really life-like dreams, I sat next to him. I looked at him and said, "Cody, thank you for always being there for me." I then closed my eyes and felt something warm and familiar on my forehead. I opened my eyes and he kisses me again on the cheek.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"You don't have to thank me, " he said, " I do it because I love you, Samm. I want to be sort of like your 'protector,' okay?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He then took my face in his hands and kissed my lips gently. Oh, God... It felt like his real kisses. I missed them so much. He looked right into my eyes and said the thing I could listen to every single day from him, "I'm in love with you, Samm. Why don't you understand that I'm only in your life because we're meant for each other?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I looked at him and into his dream-eyes. There were no lies hidden in there... I was about to say I loved him too, but I got a call. I woke up at 3:45 AM from a call from Julian. He was telling me how the person watching him was smoking weed in his house with her friends. I think Julian and I are done fighting for now... It kills us both inside, and honestly, there is no point to it. We both know we love each other like crazy... I guess I was just nervous about him being gone all summer. I signed up for the Von Liebig, but I really don't wanna go, haha. Cody's been there through it all... He's been in my heart since August 23, 2009... I mean, we didn't start going out until September 4, 2009, but it's been just truly amazing to know someone like him. Everyone thinks he's an asshole, but quite honestly, I don't see it at all. I only see the sweet, caring, lovable boy I met. That's truly all he'll ever be to me. My first true love. It's still kind of a shock to me that I was the first person in two years who made him actually happy. I kinda wonder if he still thinks of me that way... The same way he felt when we saw 9... It's a little weird actually talking to him again, but it's okay. At least we're becoming somewhat of friends again. He's such an amazing person despite of what everyone says about him; even he talks shit about himself. He doesn't understand that I don't care that he looks the way he does. I don't care that he made mistakes in the past... I'm sick of having "more than just friends" feelings about him. For some reason he's in my life and always holds me at my highest and takes a stand for me. I just hope these feelings don't get in the middle of Julian and me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sammie T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8290696059385072977-859715040956636156?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/859715040956636156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/dreams-61010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/859715040956636156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/859715040956636156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/dreams-61010.html' title='Dreams... 6/10/10'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-3423643606732447480</id><published>2010-06-10T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T17:00:47.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Know Why 5/24/10</title><content type='html'>I don't know why, but Julian's still in love with me. It's nice. He gave me a gorgeous ring today. It's silver with two tiny diamonds, and a beautiful star sapphire in the middle. It's kind of hard to date someone who hasn't gone through the Journey, ALPS and even Leadership. I hate school... I'm stuck with so many crabs. It hurts. Katya and Adriana made me cry today. I'd tell Katya how I feel, but she's not really trustworthy. Even Sam gets it. I even explained to her that no one "needs" the Journey; everyone deserves it. I am a beautiful, deserving, intelligent leader. I need a picture for my locket. I'm starting to sell my art to donate to the starfish foundation and the no-kill animal shelter I'm going to create here. I'm the type of person who'd always choose animals over people because I stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves. Speaking of no-kill animal shelters, I need to find out how much it costs to make one happen and the requirements for one. I'd love to have one so I could help those who can't help themselves. I love everyone, but it's so hard to be tolerant sometimes, especially when those you need to tolerate have so many masks on. I can't wait until summer. I can start over. Meet new people. Get rid of the people who bring me down. I love my team... I really do... I know I can count on them with everything. They're the types of people I love so much. I know we'll always have a strong bond no matter what. Julian Lurie... I don't know how to describe him... Perfect? Haha... No. But it's pretty damn close. I can be a little kid again with him around... It's nice...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sammie T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8290696059385072977-3423643606732447480?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/3423643606732447480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/dont-know-why-52410.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3423643606732447480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3423643606732447480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/dont-know-why-52410.html' title='Don&apos;t Know Why 5/24/10'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-5032336986521883010</id><published>2010-06-10T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T16:55:48.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallen. 5/5/10</title><content type='html'>So my heart's been taken by another. He's amazing. Everything I want in a guy. I hope he's the one... He loves me back. He plays football, he likes MMA, and we have a ton in common. My heart truly loves him... Waking up with him next to me made me so fucking happy. I love him. He's my best friend.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Julian Lurie, I really do love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sammie T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8290696059385072977-5032336986521883010?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/5032336986521883010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/fallen-5510.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/5032336986521883010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/5032336986521883010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/06/fallen-5510.html' title='Fallen. 5/5/10'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-8909640899130140573</id><published>2010-04-24T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T09:27:59.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbroken.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;So. Last night, Kal and I broke up... I think. It's tearing me to shreds. Here's the most amazing guy in the world and he picked ME of all people... He tells me I'm his everything... Then decides he just randomly doesn't love me anymore... I fell for him harder than I fell in love with Cody. I never have marriage dreams... Ever. I can't stand the idea of getting married... But with Kal, I had one. He said I'm too clingy... It's just me, sorry, Pal. I was gonna buy tickets to go surprise him for his birthday... Spend the day with him... Show him I really do love him, but that just went completely down the gutter. I love him... I truly do. I wish I knew why this always happens to me... I can't get away from this shit. It's at home, school, online, everywhere I look... I can't even look at Kal anymore... I completely dedicated everything to him, which was so stupid of me. Why can't I take advice...? I miss him more than words can explain... I'm in complete love with you, sorry...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-8909640899130140573?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/8909640899130140573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/heartbroken.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/8909640899130140573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/8909640899130140573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/heartbroken.html' title='Heartbroken.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-8799916149074693559</id><published>2010-04-22T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T18:02:43.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life... Is weird.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;Kal. Oh, Kal. I love him more than anything in my life. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. I just wish I wasn't so scared I'm gonna lose him. If I lost him... Wow... Just thinking about it makes me cry. I love my Kalbear more than anything in this world. He's made me feel real. I was stupid to tell him my dream on the bus today. I just wish it didn't make us awkward. I could spend forever with him. I wish I could show him how I feel about him through actions, but I don't know how to... Kal, if you're reading this, I love you more than anything... And I'm sorry I screw up so much... I love you, baby. More than you can imagine. I love you so so so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I hope you know that. You're the best... Maybe if we were physically together this would be so much easier...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-8799916149074693559?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/8799916149074693559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-is-weird.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/8799916149074693559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/8799916149074693559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-is-weird.html' title='Life... Is weird.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-7168514773422319763</id><published>2010-04-22T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T14:33:48.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;So I was just thinking about what I wanted for my birthday, and I realized all I want is to spend the day with Kal... Like physically have him here for my birthday. But for those who can't give me that, I just want money or book store gift cards. For mangas. Haha. I need to stop spending money so carelessly. I'd cry if I could be with Kal on my birthday. Tears of happiness. I'd rather be anywhere but here without him. I love Kal. So much. I wanna impress his sister because they're so close. I want her to like me... He's lucky to have someone that close to him. I wish I did. I block people out. I'm starting to let Kal in; though it's hard. I try to keep strong in front of him... I'm so scared I'll lose him from my stupidity. I always tend to screw things up, so I'm trying my hardest to not do anything stupid. I don't know why I was scared he'd cheat... I guess it's because whenever I get attached they hurt me... All those boys I've dated in the past have mentally crippled me. Kal's the one who can help me... I love you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-7168514773422319763?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/7168514773422319763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7168514773422319763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7168514773422319763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/birthday.html' title='Birthday.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-5224236206499502896</id><published>2010-04-22T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T14:30:23.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I really miss Kal when he's not here... I cried again last night, but I'm not sure why. I kinda wonder if he still loves Nikki. I feel really sick today. I'm wheezing a little. I wanna get my asthma checked out again. I love Kal... I know he'd never cheat, but my paranoia from the others still creeps up sometimes. I really don't feel well at all... I wonder what's up... I miss him... I miss his smile... I wish I coulda seen him last night... We didn't talk much last night, but it's okay. He's so excited to see his sister. I wish I had a sibling; it'd be nice. I dunno any other people who are only children. It gets boring being home alone all the time, and the pressure is so much greater with one kid. I wish I could say more about Kal today, but I don't know what to say other than the hole he filled feels like it's coming back... It's terrifying. I don't want him to leave... I really gotta change the way I am. I'm not interesting, smart, and certainly I'm not pretty anymore. Not now that I cut my hair. I regret it. So much. I love Kal... My feelings won't change a bit. But I'm scared I'm not good enough for him... He's perfect and I'm just a messed up jealous bitch... I kinda wonder how he can even stand me. He could be with so many other amazing girls, but he chose me. Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-5224236206499502896?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/5224236206499502896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/5224236206499502896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/5224236206499502896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-7301066522027421825</id><published>2010-04-21T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:26:54.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Kal... 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;Dear Kal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;Hey, I missed you last night. I hope you didn't do anything too stupid, haha. I don't mind that you do weed anymore, just as long as you don't do anything inane. I had another dream about you. It was sweet. I love you so much, baby. I'm sorry I had to leave like that on Monday. It kinda sucked a bit, haha. I love you so darn much, I can't explain. Ew. I'm being all mushy again. *Enter said faic here.* Ummm..... I was kinda wondering what really makes me lovable at all. I don't really see how I'm good enough for anyone. THanks for making me feel beautiful, inside and out. I was wondering if we could live together once I turn eighteen... I know that sounds silly, but I truly think you're the one. You know... I'd get a job, or I could stay home... I just want to make you happy. I'm sorry if I get annoying sometimes. Promise me you'll tell me if I'm bugging you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;Love you, boo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-7301066522027421825?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/7301066522027421825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-kal-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7301066522027421825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7301066522027421825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-kal-2.html' title='Dear Kal... 2'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-3720152215425711090</id><published>2010-04-21T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:23:52.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I never realized...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I never realized how much I miss Kal when I don't see him... I love that dork so fucking much. He's my absolute everything. I wish I had known him longer... Who knows where we'd be now... I want to be with him so badly... In person... Together forever. I had another dream about him. I was lying in the park when a boy came up to me. I couldn't see who it was at first until I heard his voice. "Hey, Sammie? It's me... Kal..." I bolted upright and looked at him. It was my beloved, Kal. He was dressed in those adorable, ruined skinny jeans, and a black shirt. The dream felt so real... LIke to the point that I was surprised to not wake up next to him. Oh, the rest of the dream we were cuddling and stuff. It was so cute. I 've fallen 100% for him. I love him so much. I'm sure he's the one. Mine. Forever. I love you more than you can imagine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-3720152215425711090?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/3720152215425711090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-never-realized.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3720152215425711090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3720152215425711090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-never-realized.html' title='I never realized...'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-6082427974834262905</id><published>2010-04-21T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:21:07.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's so cute... [[4/20]]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;It's so adorable when Kal's nerdy and a dork. Last night he got up to get something and his pants fell down. It was hilarious. Everything he does is so cute... I love how silly he is. I don't think he tries to mess up... It's cute when he gets embarrassed... I can't help but smile at it. It makes me love him even more. I'm so glad I met him. He's filled up the hole in my heart. I don't are about the doubts my friends have about us... He's perfect in every way. He's so amazing. He makes my heart melt. I hope he's the real thing. I can't imagine life without him by my side. If he ever cheats I'll be devastated...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-6082427974834262905?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/6082427974834262905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-so-cute-420.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6082427974834262905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6082427974834262905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-so-cute-420.html' title='It&apos;s so cute... [[4/20]]'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-2467232497595134287</id><published>2010-04-21T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:19:04.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It bugs me when... [[4/20]]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;It bugs me when Katya's inconsiderate. She called my boyfriend a girl and I just about snapped. I'm still really pissed about it. Next time she mentions Richard I'm gonna call him a fucking girl. She really has been pissing me off ever since I did "The Journey." Well, before then, she was a bitch too. I don't think she likes me much. The Spanish room smells like weed. I like the smell... Which is weird for me, considering I'm so against it. Well, I'm not really AGAINST it, I just don't like it when people get high so much. It's interesting though, because I want to move to either Venice, CA, or with Kal wherever he goes. Ahhh... Kal... The love of my life... I can't imagine life without him. Anyway, today's 4/20... "Weed Day..." I feel buzzed just from smelling it. I wish Mom didn't take my computer last night. I wonder if Kal was sad. It took e a while to fall asleep... I couldn't stop crying. It hurt being taken away like that. I hope he doesn't think it was his fault because it wasn't. Not at all. I love you with all my heart, Kal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-2467232497595134287?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/2467232497595134287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-bugs-me-when-420.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/2467232497595134287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/2467232497595134287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-bugs-me-when-420.html' title='It bugs me when... [[4/20]]'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-3209808665719503899</id><published>2010-04-20T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T14:53:30.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Kal...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me. I would say it, but I'm embarrassed even thinking about it... You make me feel amazing. You give me a reason to live. You're the piece of heaven I've been waiting for. I'm so glad I met you. I finally have that missing piece filled in my heart. I know I haven't met you yet, but I really DO miss you when you're gone. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, baby. You always put me in a good mood. And I can't help but fall more in love every time I see you. Especially when you act like a dork. It's our second week knowing each other, yet I love you more than I've loved anyone or anything. I hate being so affectionate sometimes; it must be annoying to you. I love you, Kal, no matter what. Please never, ever, forget that. If we someday do get to live together, I'd be so happy... There's a ton of things I'd love to do. I don't want to be weird by this, but I've never, ever, felt like I would get married, but then I met you. But think nothing of that. Chances are you probably haven't even thought about that. I wish I could show you, in person, how much you mean to me... All I want is to be close to you; Always, Kal. I knew I'd meet my true love soon, and I did. It's you... I can't remember life before you, nor can I imagine life without you now. I love you, Kal. No matter what... You truly are the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so much... Every minute with you is a new favorite time for me. I want nothing more than to know you're safe, healthy, and above all, happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I love you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-3209808665719503899?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/3209808665719503899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-kal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3209808665719503899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/3209808665719503899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-kal.html' title='Dear Kal...'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-7669645431273485666</id><published>2010-04-20T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T14:47:56.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4.20</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I don't know why, but knowing that Kal does weed was bugging me a little today. I don't know... I guess it's because I'm just scared Mom will find out, I couldn't stop crying last night; I'm not sure if it was because I was upset about the weed, or if it was because of my mom. Mom forced me away from Kal last night... I threw up because of it. All I wanted to do was talk to him all night again... I love him. Even if he is a stoner. I just hope he wouldn't do it around me. If he does I probably will have to break up with him, which I would probably die if I did. I love him too much. I don't wanna bug him about it... Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much. I guess it's just because I told myself I wouldn't date someone who did drugs. It's better than being cheated on, at least. I love him more than words can explain. I don't want to fuck things up with him. If I could, I'd just ignore it, but I can't. I've tried. Even though it bugs me, it doesn't change the way I feel about him. He gives me reason to live... He gives me something to look foreword to each day. I love him. I truly want to spend the rest of my life with him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-7669645431273485666?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/7669645431273485666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/420.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7669645431273485666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7669645431273485666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/420.html' title='4.20'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-6960908419523133053</id><published>2010-04-19T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T17:04:29.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I can't stop thinking about him... No matter how hard I try,  can't stop being so in love with him... He's such a dork; it's cute. It makes me fall even deeper in love with him. Someone just needs to mention his name and my day lightens up. I want more than anything to live with him. If I could have three wishes they would be:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;1. Kal and I would be together forever (Of course, in complete love)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;2. We would have a stable home and money income&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;3. I would be able to be with him whenever possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I absolutely adore how nerdy he is... How affectionate... How sweet. I love how we were "made for each other," and how we have so much in common. I love how I can be myself around him. I love his voice, I love his smile... I love how I feel invincible when we talk. I love just knowing he loves me the same... Oh, God, how much I'd do to be with him right now... Kal, I love you. Never. Ever. Forget that, Baby.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;[[I can't even scratch the surface of how I feel about him through my words... He keeps me sane... I love him so much.]]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-6960908419523133053?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/6960908419523133053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6960908419523133053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6960908419523133053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/love.html' title='Love...?'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-4339305304363147382</id><published>2010-04-18T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T17:24:06.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paranoia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I'm probably just being my usual, paranoid self, but I have a weird feeling in my gut... That feeling I've had so many times before I found out I was being cheated on. It sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;I love you, Kal. Don't forget that.&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/8290696059385072977-4339305304363147382?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/4339305304363147382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/paranoia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4339305304363147382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4339305304363147382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/paranoia.html' title='Paranoia.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-4122499214242089045</id><published>2010-04-18T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T13:39:14.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I don't know why but I can't stop crying right now. I shouldn't be because I'm talking to my baby... And I love him, but I just don't feel like myself. I can't stop these tears... I hate this. I feel weak again. I hate crying so much. I wish I could be myself again. I just... Feel weird. I don't know what it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;Please help me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-4122499214242089045?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/4122499214242089045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/tears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4122499214242089045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4122499214242089045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/tears.html' title='Tears...'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-968996067680612297</id><published>2010-04-18T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T10:22:51.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Future.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;Sometimes I wish I knew why I love Kal so much, but right now, at this moment, I know I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I wouldn't mind moving in with him if he ever moved here. Personally, I think it'd be fun... I'd be able to be with him every day and every night. It'd be so much fun. I love his smile... I wish I could see him every day. People question if we're moving too fast, but I don't think so. We're like a match made in heaven...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;I love you, Kal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-968996067680612297?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/968996067680612297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/future.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/968996067680612297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/968996067680612297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/future.html' title='Future.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-4129708760383786645</id><published>2010-04-17T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T18:44:24.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soulmates?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I love Kal. So much. It's like... I've known him my whole life. I wonder sometimes if we're meant to be... I've never fallen for someone this fast before, and it seems like the feelings mutual. He's the best guy ever to be with and I'm so lucky... I love him so much. Thinking about him brings tears to my eyes because I know he's someone I'll treasure forever. It's so natural around him; there's no drama and I could spend hours just being with him. He makes my day automatically better by just being here... He's someone I want to spend the rest of my life with; I've never loved someone this much. I hope he doesn't get bored of me, though I don't think he will. I love him more than words can describe... He's, although I hate using this word, "hot;" he's funny... A dork... Nerd... He's just amazing. I can't... I can't stop thinking about him.I love it. I just wish I could be with him every day; more than just on the computer... I mean physically with him. I wanna hold him so badly... He's my world. He's my everything. It's like.. We were made for each other. He notices the small things and makes me feel for once beautiful. He gives me a real reason to live now... I trust him with everything. I can finally be myself for once. Kal... If you're reading this, you mean more to me than I can even begin to attempt to explain, and I'm so happy you entered my life... And I can't wait to see you... I love you, Kal. I think I really, truly have fallen in love with you... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-4129708760383786645?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/4129708760383786645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/soulmates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4129708760383786645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/4129708760383786645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/soulmates.html' title='Soulmates?'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-6701452255217790772</id><published>2010-04-16T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T15:38:51.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoo-Hoo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;So today is really shitty for some reason. I wish I knew why. I can't wait to talk to him tonight... He'll make everything better. I never knew how fast I could fall in love with someone. I love him. I really do. Maybe more tan I loved Cody. I can't wait to see him again... Even if it is only on Skype. He's given me a reason to live again. I just wish I could be with him every day... I can't believe I've fallen so hard and fast like this... Whenever I think about him my heart beats fast and I can't stop smiling...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;Anyways, off the topic of my Dorkasaurus Rexx... Life sucks. I'm failing my classes, I'm being teased at school for something I've never done, and I can't focus. Again, I'm in Spanish and I can't concentrate. Mom refuses to let me home school... Does she even care about my future? She told me that my dreams can never happen in the real world... It crushed me. She told me I'm gonna be a failure in life. I can't stop these tears yet again. I'm just a fucking stupid emo kid. I want to go home... I wanna run away... I miss my baby... He heals my pain inside. Something tells me I'm not going to ALPS. I should do Mom's painting... Which I am... She just doesn't know it. I'm trying hard to balance my life and have fun at the same time, but I can't . Not when mom expects me to be the "perfect child," but I can't when all she does is point out my flaws. I'm sorry to everyone that I'm not perfect. I wanna move to Washington. Start over. Away from everyone... Closer to Him... I wish I could... Escape this hell. I hate it here 99% of the time. It's only when I'm alone when I'm okay. When I'm alone things are better. I hate people... I love him... I wish he lived here. I can't wait for him to go to Nettles Island, FL, so I can see him. He said he'd walk that whole way, if it meant he has a chance to see me. He's so adorable. I love him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;I wonder if I'll be quiet around him. I wonder if it'll be awkward... I want to find out. I love him so much. I wish we could, like, room together. That'd be awesome. He's only two years older... He's so cute. And, thankfully, he's mine. I'm envious of all the people who get to see him every day. I 'm really not afraid to say it anymore; I love you, ***.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-6701452255217790772?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/6701452255217790772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/yoo-hoo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6701452255217790772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/6701452255217790772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/yoo-hoo.html' title='Yoo-Hoo.'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-7507127450554468985</id><published>2010-04-15T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:23:08.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kal...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/38/l_e14bc9c5d71b408ba09475cfab6e8404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/38/l_e14bc9c5d71b408ba09475cfab6e8404.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;So I met this boy named Kal. He's funny, sweet, cute and overall just amazing. I'm falling fast and hard for him. He's made me lose all my feelings for Cody. I'm so grateful he's in my life. "I stay up late every night, just to hear your voice, but you don't know that's nothing like me." I want and stay up late just to talk to him all night. His voice is so sweet; it's like music to my ears. I love it. He brings out a side of me that I'm scared to show, and I never showed to Cody. It's hard to believe he's in college. He's really cute looks-wise. He keeps racking my thoughts. I open my mouth and I can't shut up about him. I wish he lived near me instead of in Washington. June twenty-sixth... His birthday. I wonder what I'll do for it. I wanna do something special. He understands me and my previous feelings for Cody... He helps me get through these internal wars. I finally have a reason to wake up every day. I hope I don't mess up this time... Even though we're not official yet (which we are now). I wonder if we'll ever &lt;i&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; official. I shouldn't think about that yet; we've only known each other for seven days (4/9 - 4/15)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;I'm falling in love with him... Hard...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-7507127450554468985?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/7507127450554468985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/kal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7507127450554468985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/7507127450554468985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/kal.html' title='Kal...'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8290696059385072977.post-272478615949064740</id><published>2010-04-15T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:17:23.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home school...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;I've decided to drop out of school... like physical school. I want to be home schooled. I hate people... I just want to stay home, and do that CSN home school thing. I'd work harder. I'd be better than I am right now. I'd apply myself more. Friends just get in the middle of my studies; they slow me down. I love them to death, but... In order to reach my potential I need to be by myself. I'll be able to breeze through school, I'd be happier. Yeah, I may not have many friends, but seriously, not many people keep their high school buddies throughout college. I'm sick of people. I'd never hurt anyone, but I just want most of them gone. I want to learn more and more. I want to be able to go on vacation whenever. I want to be home schooled so badly. I want to spend more time with Mom. I want to be able to learn. School has distractions; even if I went to CSN I wouldn't use my full potential. I'd be so much better off if I could be home schooled. No worries about forgetting homework. No unnecessary drama. No people lacking common sense. I really want to be able to learn at my own pace, my owl level. I CAN'T learn well with other people around. I just can't. I came to Barron because CSN wasn't working at all. CSN would have been ridicule all day and teachers who hold hands all the way. Barron is heartbreak, unnecessary drama, and teachers, except Mrs. Byrne, who don't care about work. I'm fine with redoing freshman year if it means being home schooled and being able to really apply myself. I'm going to talk to my mom about this because I don't register anything I'm learning anymore. My brain can't do work well when there's side talk. It shuts down and I can't understand anything. I need 100% one on one attention. People distract me. I think and care about them more than my work. I love being alone; it's the only way I can think. For example. I'm here in Spanish class and I can't pay attention to the lesson; I only hear side talk. I won't be able to accomplish anything if this keeps going on. I've lost motivation to try because I can't understand anything anymore. I need this to stop so badly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new', serif;"&gt;-Sammie&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/8290696059385072977-272478615949064740?l=wetsoda.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/feeds/272478615949064740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/home-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/272478615949064740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8290696059385072977/posts/default/272478615949064740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wetsoda.blogspot.com/2010/04/home-school.html' title='Home school...'/><author><name>WetSoda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16110699484119539303</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MEut3GsJArM/TGAyY28F9kI/AAAAAAAAABU/f0aqwCWzuE0/S220/Eeyore.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
