<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1" ?>
<rss version="0.91">
  <channel>
    <title>Dead Eyes</title>
    <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/</link>
    <description>Digital Ash in a Digital Urn</description>
    <lastBuildDate>Sat, 09 Feb 2008 18:00:00 PST</lastBuildDate>
    <generator>http://www.blogdrive.com</generator>
    <copyright>Copyright 2008.</copyright>
    <category>Art</category>
    <category>Music</category>
    <category>Poetry</category>
    <item>
      <title>I dont know anymore</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/122.html</link>
      <pubDate>Sat, 09 Feb 2008 15:57:20 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>Relationships... Friendships...People. The definition of fucking awful. I dont know how I pick the people around me... I always seem to end up in the fucked up situation. A shitty life, I can deal with. I can take it. 
But these feelings, these situations, with other living breathing people.
If you had told me things would be this way a few years ago, Id probably tell you youre an idiot and laugh in your face.
Stupid, stupid old Rene... You were so much better... No, no you werent. You were just simpler... Screwed up, too many problems, over emotional, but so much simpler.
The days when I... (more)</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=122</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>huh. surprising</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/121.html</link>
      <pubDate>Tue, 29 Jan 2008 20:19:45 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>I never realised how good some friends can make you &amp;lt;deleted&amp;gt; feel. I know they can put you through shit, and sometimes they take alot of maintenance. But I dont think you realise how good it is to have them around, untill you dont see them forever.
Then you speak to them, and you wonder what kind of idiot you were to ever think you didnt need them.
Everyone has their place in this big puzzle. big... big puzzle. Called my screwy life. Everyone comes together with their little inputs into one big friend machine that spouts fuzzy happiness and glowing exteriors, most times, if not all.... (more)</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=121</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>blarr</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/120.html</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 21 Jan 2008 19:49:44 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>
 ugh. I wish I knew what was wrong with me. I just feel so screwed up. I have no reason to feel this way at all...
I keep on trying to blame people around me, but theres nothing wrong with them. Its just all me. I keep on trying to say &quot;just wait things out till that happens, then itll be ok.&quot; But how would that help, when its me Im not ok with? 
I just wish I could change things.
Everything would be so different.

I feel like I cant even be my normal self, because I cant feel enough to give to other people. I just want to be alone somewhere....
and I dont know why...
     
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=120</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>*gnash*</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/119.html</link>
      <pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2008 22:22:36 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>I wrote an entry. It got deleted... Basically it said: I feel lost. I dont know what Im doing. Why am i fucking around with iTunes on a saturday night? Its not like it would be hard to find something better to do.
&quot;oh, here is a lemon. Let me cut it in half and pour its juice into my eye. Im already having more fun!&quot;
It also said something about the cosmos giving me a map with a star on one side, &quot;You Are Here&quot; and a question mark on the opposite side, &quot;Where you Should be&quot; and in the middle they chucked a whole field of cluster fucks, mountains, valleys, pits of venemous leprachauns and the... (more)</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=119</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>In the words of Michael Bluth</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/118.html</link>
      <pubDate>Wed, 16 Jan 2008 19:07:53 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>Ive made a huge mistake.... 
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=118</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>waste of money thanks</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/117.html</link>
      <pubDate>Fri, 07 Dec 2007 12:53:15 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>discoveries of a socially awkward shitty person.
Feel like buying that book?

 
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=117</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>ni</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/116.html</link>
      <pubDate>Fri, 07 Dec 2007 12:49:31 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>Fuck. I dont even know what to do anymore.
Just, fuck...
Everytime.

a) write some dark story
b) something arb to make me feel better

*just sits*

 
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=116</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>disillusioned</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/115.html</link>
      <pubDate>Thu, 15 Nov 2007 21:31:09 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>

It seems that, everyone you think you should be able to
trust, turn out to be the ones that you can’t ever rely on. I kind of knew that
Id always do things myself, but it’s never really hit home. I really have to do
everything alone. 

I don’t even know how people I care for and love could make me choose between
them and something else, yet, it’s always been that way. Yay for ignoring
everything until it hits you in the face, Rene. *thumbs up* It’s SO much more
exciting...

Except, I don’t know how that happened. When I do so much for everyone, and
never ask for anything, but... (more)</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=115</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>title</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/114.html</link>
      <pubDate>Fri, 28 Sep 2007 12:31:02 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>Im surrounded by fucking perfect people. I have to keep being stronger and harder just to cope without constantly falling on my face.
I cant keep doing this
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=114</comments>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>attack of the flying space rabbits</title>
      <link>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/archive/113.html</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2007 20:03:14 GMT</pubDate>
      <description>I had something meaningfull I wanted to write here. Something that i really wanted to get off my chest all weekend. But it really just seems trivial now.
I guess nostalgia just got the better of me for a moment...
Amazing how nostalgia is the one that gets me, every time.
Bad memories! Bad. Down boy
</description>
      <comments>http://dead-eyes.blogdrive.com/comments?id=113</comments>
    </item>
  </channel>
</rss>
