<?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-6644597</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:25:14.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dread My Story</title><subtitle type='html'>This is my life, my problems, my story. </subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-110195657684055890</id><published>2004-12-01T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T22:02:56.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Sad...&lt;br /&gt;Listening To: Only One - Yellowcard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted here in such a long time.  I can't believe I still have this.  I wonder if anybody even remembers.  I'll show this to a couple people, I guess...most likely only one...so it would be pointless to post here.  But still...I feel like I need to.  I need to clear up a few things for a couple people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the way I say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anybody recognize that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;King Of All Pain...my first poem/song...does anybody remember?  Now, if you people do remember, did you care?  Did anybody?  I could tlel you that nobody does anymore.  Nobody wants to hear from me.  Nobody even wants to see me.  They all think I'm annoying...that I don't care about anybody, because I can't control my feelings.  I'm sick of people, now-a-days.  I wish I could crawl into a hole and die.  I really do...nobody understand how much I absolutely hate this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried talknig to a few of my "friends" a while ago, and I just found out today, that, insted of talking to them, I was more annoying them, by trying to start a conversation.  If people don't want to talk to me, say so.  Don't go around saying your good friends with me, then stab me in the back.  I'm fucking sick of everything...I can't stand it.  Can nobody see that I just don't want to be here?  Can you?!  Then help me out.  Take my life away, as it will be the only thing capable of curing someone like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain I felt while lifting the knife.&lt;br /&gt;I only wanted to end my life.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't so easy, it was quite hard.&lt;br /&gt;It's over now, my neck has been scarred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fall to the ground, hoping to die.&lt;br /&gt;I knew that this is where I should lie.&lt;br /&gt;You ripped my heart out; stepped on it, too.&lt;br /&gt;You now have my blood, all over your shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lay under you, smiling with glee.&lt;br /&gt;You were the first, to try to rescue me.&lt;br /&gt;To saw the tip, and stabbed my chest.&lt;br /&gt;I always knew that you were the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay there, all bloody and cold.&lt;br /&gt;I told you a secret.  One I've never told.&lt;br /&gt;"I really loved her, with all my heart,"&lt;br /&gt;"She knew it too, right from the start."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody cares, not now, not then.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want this pain, never again.&lt;br /&gt;They push my away,I have no one in the end.&lt;br /&gt;Will nobody just want to be my friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's to late for me as my end is here.&lt;br /&gt;I lived my life with only one fear.&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness can kill, as I have just proved.&lt;br /&gt;If I had a friend, I bet they'd approve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wrote that now.  This is the first poem, to not help my mood.  I actually feel worse.  I don't want to be here.  Every passing second spells disaster for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-110195657684055890?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/110195657684055890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/110195657684055890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110195657684055890' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108759099281156164</id><published>2004-06-18T15:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-18T15:36:32.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Pretty Bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Walking By - Something Corporate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bad.  I broke up with Katie and we're still friends, but it seems all weird, now.  My arms getting cut up, and it's like some eople don't even care.  I need to find help, but I'm scared.  If I do, then what will people think of me?  It runs through my head, and all I can think of is that people will leave me out.  I'll become an outcast from the human race.  I'll lose my current friends and never be able to gain friends that I want to have.  It will be over for me.  I don't want that to happen...I don't want to hurt anybody, either.  It makes this so hard...I don't want to do this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108759099281156164?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108759099281156164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108759099281156164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_06_18_archive.html#108759099281156164' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108632005319504227</id><published>2004-06-03T22:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-06-03T22:34:13.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Wishing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: If Only Tears Could Bring You Back To Me - Midnight Sons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wishing right now.  I'm wishing that my thoughts and feelings would stop, but they won't.  They are in a never ending circle of confusion.  I don't know what to do anymore.  I talk about my feelings with people, and not even that works.  Listening to music is now pointless as all I can hear from them is the slurs about dying.  Why is my life like this at this point?  When will my thoughts end?  Or will I have to end my thoughts the way that is running threw my mind?  Maybe if I had a sharper knife, everyone would see and realize how much pain I am in.  It is not physical pain...but it is emotional, and it's not stopping.  I don't know how I got this pain, anymore...all I know is that it's killing me, if I do it or not.  Why can't I just take my life with ease?  Why do so many people have to say that they care about me?  Why is it always like this?  I'm able to hide it from most right now...but how much longer can I be like this?  How much longer can I hold in my feelings infront of people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(8)Somewhere, there's a field and a river.  You can let your soul run free!(8)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I find this place?  Why does this place seem to be right there...but I ca't reach it?  It's right infront of my face, but I can't see it.  Nothing can relaxe me right now...only take my mind off it for a while.  Like rugby...but how long will that last?  When will I start thinking like that during the game?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...When will it end?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108632005319504227?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108632005319504227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108632005319504227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_06_03_archive.html#108632005319504227' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108501407646720267</id><published>2004-05-19T19:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-05-19T19:47:56.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: REALLY bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Meant To Live - Switchfoot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I want to die...it seems like my friends are going to turn their backs to me.  It started with a little lie, and it grows from there, and it's REALLY getting to me, and I'm scared.  I don't want to go through what I did when I was a kid.  This happened at almost every school I went to.  The people that were my "friends" turned their backs on me and started trying to beat me up.  It was like a sport to them.  I was the giant buck, and they were the hunters.  I jus feel like not being here.  I know this sounds stupid...but it's really bugging me...and I don't know why it's so bad.  It's like I snapped...emotionally...I'm on the brink of having an emotional breakdown or something...and it's bad...REALLY bad...I just wish I could figure this out...find out why it's bugging me so much...be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108501407646720267?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108501407646720267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108501407646720267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_05_19_archive.html#108501407646720267' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108078089896639517</id><published>2004-03-31T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T19:58:36.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Kinda down&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/sad.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: The Reason - Hoobastank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After listening to this song multiple times...I feel like there's no reason for me to be here.  It seems like only people who are happy deserve to be here, and I'm obviously not happy.  I wish I could find someone who could make me feel the way this song explains it.  Well...I have found someone...but I know I can't ever have her because she said that she liked me...and then went out with someone else.  I feel like I should tell her...right to her face, "I like you and I would do anything to just hold you in my arms.  I will hold you tight till everything is alright in the world, and just seeing you makes everything great."  but I can't.  If I started saying anything..I'd stop...thinking it's not right.  I know it...I'm to scared to be rejected that I won't do it.  I wish that I could be brave and not care about the outcome, but I can't do that.  I need to stop worrying about everything and start living.  I need to only worry about the here and now instead of what might happen.  I'm just scared that if I'm to straight forward, she might get worried and not even like me as a friend, anymore.  I need re-insurance&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/sad.gif"&gt;.  I wish I was little again...I never cared what I said and did.  Even though everyone hated me, I still walked right up to them and talked.  I spoke my mind.  Why can't I do that now?  Why am I always worried about how my friends will think of me?  Why am I like this?  I wish I could change.  I don't want to be the way I am, being a fake...I want to be original...not a follower...not a leader...I want to make my own catagory.  I want to be Tyson Jordan Andrew Moss...and the ONLY Tyson Jordan Andrew Moss on this planet.  But I'm not...I'm not even Tyson...I'm some wanna be trying to fit in to make a friend.  I need more confidence...can anyone help me with this...I have none...at all...I feel like talking to a phycoligist...but the best person I know for helping me isn't online...and I can't help myself...and nobody else can, either...even Laurel can't totally help me, 'cause everytime she tries to make a point about me, I retaliate and I think make her sad.  I'm not toally sure, but if I was told something that I thought was wrong, I'd be either sad or mad.  This is how I've been with all my friends.  I just bring down a room.  I don't deserve to be here, and until I find a reason, I'll always think that...or maybe I won't always think that...for I'd be gone.  It's nothing new...and that's what gets me mad.  Brant only talked about suicide and since he's grounded, he can do whatever he wants.  Well he never attempted...I never got any special treatment...I got nothing...they don't care about me...I should jus wonder off the face of this earth...I know nobody would care.  They say they will...and anyone that reads this will say they care...but deep down they know they don't.  They only care for themselves.  That's why I'm different...I care more about others than myself and they always think I'm a fake for acting different around others when I'm really trying to make them feel comfortable.  Then that makes me lose friends.  I current think I gained Stacey back as a friend...but I'm still worried.  Once she finds that I haven't changed, I'm worried that she will just walk away again.  I hate losing friends...after I lost her and Mandy as even friends, my self-esteem dropped and with everything else built up...and me feeling like ALL my "friends" were gonna leave, I decided to leave before they had a chance.  It never really worked...I'm still here and depressive as every.  I wish all my thoughts would just go away and I could just soar...soar with the birds...soar with the clouds...soar away from this earth and pain and sorrow and hurt...and just...live free...but I can't...I'm trapted in this world and all its missery...until it ends.  Right now, I hope it ends soon...this pain isn't getting better...and it only hurts more.  I wish I could enplain more about my pains...but I can't...it's impossible to explain how things bother me.  I guess it's just me, though.  I get annoyed at myself for not being me.  I need to find where i lie and wake up.  I need to stop being the person I am now, and be the kid I use to be.  I wish I had no fears, but I do.  I wish I had no pains, but I do.  I wish I had true friends...but I'm not sure if they would like me for me.  They only know the person who lies outside, and few have seen the terrible leftovers of a broken castle.  I can't show anymore because I'm scared of what they would think.  I'm scared that the pictures and images I can explain would hurt them in some way, and that's the last thing I want to do.  I will take your pain, take your anger, take your hate...but you may never see mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108078089896639517?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108078089896639517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108078089896639517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_31_archive.html#108078089896639517' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108042660155079765</id><published>2004-03-27T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-27T17:33:51.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Bored&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/sad.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Grey Matter - Finch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am SOOOOOOOOO very bored.  The only person online is Hillary...and I think it's only because she doesn't have anything planned, today.  But I was SUPOSE to have something planned...but Jessie didn't call me yesterday so I'm stuck at home. Oh...and just a note to all you people that read this...NEVER hsvr "Freakin' Nuts"....THEY TASTE LIKE CRAP!!!...see...I like A LOT of food...as you all could tell **hits fat stomache**...but that's just horrible...maybe its just the flavour "Cha Cha Chili"...but they have THE WORST after taste you will ever taste...after you ate it, lol.  Someone please come online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom wants to go to the movies tonight...but I don't...I don't want to hang out with her...she's not very cool at all...she's SOOO annoying, too...like...she'll just nag and nag until I go...ugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...I'm so bored that I have nothing else to write...there's nothing...my god...gay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C yas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108042660155079765?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108042660155079765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108042660155079765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_27_archive.html#108042660155079765' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108033272967580971</id><published>2004-03-26T15:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-26T15:29:00.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: OK&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/okay.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Ender Will Save Us All - Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty good today, actually.  I never really had much of a problem except in Small Engines class.  They moved me right inbetween the people I hate most.  I was around them, before, now I'm right between them all.  It's SOOO gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone to entertain me...lol...I'm SOOO bored...where are the god damn Cale's?!  lol.  I wanna do something this weekend!  I think I'm going to the movies with Jessie and some other people from Downtown, but like...I also wanna hang out with my Caledonian friends...so this doesn't work, lol.  Caledonians...get online...so we can make plans for Sunday =)  lol.  Ok...well...I don't really have much to talk about...so I'll leave =).  BYE!  **screen goes fuzzy**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108033272967580971?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108033272967580971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108033272967580971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_26_archive.html#108033272967580971' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108008737336147917</id><published>2004-03-23T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T22:03:00.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Okay&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/okay.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Where Are You Going - Dave Mathews Band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey.  This is probably one of the best moods I've been in, haha.  Well, the reason for this is that I've talked to "her" (still nameless, till I feel comfortable) and she told me everything that I didn't want to hear, except for some things.  Like, I REALLY like her, but she thinks that she hurts me with everything she does.  Well, if she reads this, you don't hurt me, you make me the most happy guy in the world.  Just seeing your bright face brings the greatest feeling over me.  Just being able to be with you once in a while makes me great.  Knowing that I can talk to you is the most wonderful thing in the world.  Even calling you a friend makes me happy, cause I know that we will always have that, no matter what happens to us.  Even if we do go out, I will be your friend, forever and for always.  I just want you to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she is not happy, then why would I be happy?  Are you happy when one of your friends is hurt?  No, I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, anyways, lol.  I really wish that she would care for me the way I care for her, but I dont know if that is possible, at least not right now.  Yeah...so...I'll end this, I really have nothing else to say.  I just want her to know that I want the best for her, and I doubt it's with me, but like...yeah...I REALLY like her, and I care for her a lot, and that's all I really have to say.  If she just wants to stay friends, I'll be happy.  If she wants to go out, wow.  it's up to her.  Anyways...I'll end this, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108008737336147917?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108008737336147917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108008737336147917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_23_archive.html#108008737336147917' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-108001266279038770</id><published>2004-03-22T22:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-22T22:34:28.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Sad and Worried &lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/worried.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Frail - Finch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish she was online.  i need/want to talk to her SO badly that it's actually hurting me.  I know that it's so stupid, but all I wanted to do, today was talk to her to find something out, and I couldn't.  The only time I had a chance that I know of, Brant wouldn't let me on, and when I got on at 7:10, she had left, already.  I was so down the whole night.  Nothing can bring me up right now.  I just keep putting a smile on for everyone, pretending everythings ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**sings**  Inside I wait...inside I wait.  Close your eyes and begin to breathe.  Something coming over me. **stops**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could just tell her "these" words and not make it awkward.  I wish that my feelings weren't so stupid and confusing.  I wish...I wish that she was here with me, now...so I could tell her what's on my mind right now.  But no, she won't be here, and I doubt she ever will.  I always see the worst things and I think that this might just be another one of my thinking, but this feels deep.  This feels like I can't help but complain.  This is hurting me and I don't know why.  How can being without someone hurt so much?  I wish I could just talk to her.  That would make me all better, but no, I can't even do that.  The ONE chance I have...this was already explained...so yea...but this is all in my head and it's the only thing!  Why won't it stop?  When will it stop?  Will I be able to cover up that I'm ok and perfect for school, tomorrow?  Or will the smallest things get to me?  I dunno, she'll probably read this and think I'm crazy, which I probably am, like...look at me!  I'm the type of person that doesn't even deserve a friend, but that's what she is, and that's probably how she wants to keep it (my fear) and I don't know if I can agree.  I'll probably smile and say that its fine at the time, but I know that it won't be.  Why can't I just talk to her?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-108001266279038770?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108001266279038770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/108001266279038770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_22_archive.html#108001266279038770' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107992554449469175</id><published>2004-03-21T21:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-21T22:22:28.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Happy for me and Sad...so over all, Blah &lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/blah.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Awake - Dashboard Confessional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  I had an AMAZING day.  I was with 3 of my best friends(one of which I like)...even though one had to leave early.  Like...wow...best day I had in a LONG time =).  We watched movies and were joking around and having fun, and I guess, this is the time when I really know that this girl likes me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad because...well...my friends dad just died about an hour and a half, ago.  I feel so bad for her =(.  I was off having a great time, and she loses her father =(.  I feel like I let her down 'cause I wasn't there for her.  I wish I could do something but I can't think of anything that I CAN do.  I need suggestions with this, 'cause I know she won't read this for a while, so please, if you read this help me out.  I need anything that might make her feel better.  I just...wow...I feel so bad =(.  I have other reasons for being down, but I'm not gonna say them, not quite yet.  But...wow...what ma I supose to do?  I can't get this off my mind, now.  I'm gonna end this and hope for people to help me, 'cause I can't tell them over MSN.  I just can't.  Anyways, I'm ending this...I just hope she doesn't go suicidal =(...bye peoples&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107992554449469175?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107992554449469175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107992554449469175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_21_archive.html#107992554449469175' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107984776693844866</id><published>2004-03-21T00:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-21T00:46:09.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Indifferent and Thoughtful &lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/indifferent.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Once Upon My Nightstand (Acoustic) - Finch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy with how my day went, but I think it could have went better.  I got pissed at my brother for him being so gay and asking for help then not listening to me.  But, I helped a friend out.  I felt so accomplished.  I don't want to say much about it 'cause it does concern him/her, too.  I don't think *blank* wants what we talked about out to the public, so sorry.  But yea, all I wanted to say was that I felt happy that I did something good =).  And then *blank* told me something he/she shouldn't have and I bugged him/her to hell for it =P  lol.  It amused me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my mom got kinda mad at me for not going to Katies house.  Well, I didn't want to go because my brother was there and I was still mad at him.  So I didn't want to go over there and just case shit to happen.  So yea, I stayed home and talked to people and did my math hmwk (well...most of it).  I only have tomorrow to finish it off.  Think I can do it?  Considering I have the highest Math mark in my class =)...don't know about other classes, but I gotta beat Brent!  He had a 95% in first semester, and right now I have a 94%...and I usually start off slow...so if that's slow, WOW!  98% here I come =D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, what else happened today...OH YEA!  I remembered that I'm going to see the girl that I like tomorrow =)  I'm so happy.  I hope some people who are going to be there read this!  lol.  I'm not sure if she has her boyfriend or not, still...I kinda hope not, but like...it is her choice.  I will wait for her, 'cause I REALLY like her from being her friend for about 3/4 of a year, now.  I really only want her to be happy, but like...can't I be happy, too?  I know she knows that I like her, I told her myself, but I hope she feels the same way towards me enough to actually take the time to say something to me tomorrow, which is now actually today 'cause it's 12:15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I can't believe this.  I'm having a discussion on suicide.  Like, c'mon.  I believe that suicide is just another way to die, and death is just an eternal slumber.  You dream of the life you had and ponder over it forever.  If you commit suicide, you have less to think about because you didn't live your full life.  It is the peoples choice, but would it not make sense to have a full dream full of colours and joy?  Or ones full of sorrow and pain?  Maybe that's why they end their lives so early.  They don't want to think about the pain for long, so they end it fast, not knowing that they can make their life better.  It's making me sad having this convo =(...I wish she'd stop arguing, 'cause I can't jus say no.  It's just me, I never learned how to.  I always feel guilty when I say that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is making me sad.  I keep remembering when I was REALLY depressive and wanted to commit suicide.  Nobody knew about it, I kept it to myself.  And if you read this, Katie...do I seem normal?  Am I normal to you, or am I just another different person who slits their wrists and OD's?  I Feel like I need to cry, but I won't  I'm better than this.  If my tears are shed, then they are just wasted.  Nobody cares if I cry or not, so I don't.  Nobody cares if I'm here or not, so why am I still here?  Is there actually a point?  I know people say that they care and everything, but it's hard to believe.  People say things they don't mean just to get you to shut up and make them feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously feel like crying...anyways...I think I'm gonna end this.  I'm not worth your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107984776693844866?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107984776693844866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107984776693844866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_21_archive.html#107984776693844866' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107981556204050364</id><published>2004-03-20T15:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T15:49:24.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Amused&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/cheerful.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/musical.gif"&gt;: Story Of The Year - Page Avenue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY MOMS GOING CRAZY!&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/silly.gif"&gt;.  She's running in and out of my room saying she needs to talk to me, but then she walks away and yells at the cat.  So I close my door and all you hear is, "I WAS TRYING TO TALK TO YOU AND YOU NEVER ANSWERED!!"  Then she starts trying to read my MSN convo with my dear friend Katie, and I close it and she flips out again saying "but mother's are special&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/angelic.gif"&gt;"...I don't believe her, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what got me so amused and I jus HAD to write that down.  I actually wasn't going to write again till Moday, but who cares.  Anyways, Cananda...this is Tyson Moss...signing off...**screen goes all fuzzy**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107981556204050364?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107981556204050364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107981556204050364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_20_archive.html#107981556204050364' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107973335019622092</id><published>2004-03-19T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T09:51:39.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Sad and Lonely&lt;img src="http://imageserver.caleida.com/img/mood/punquinheads/blue/sad.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: I Miss You - Blink 182&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**sings**  Don't waste your time on me, you're already the voice inside my head **stops**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I never feel feelings like this, but it's a way of life for me.  I can't feel any better knowing that I'm always going to be alone.  The girl I like has a bf, so I practically have no chance unless something happens.  I keep remembering that 2 of my close friends now hate me and I doubt there will ever be a chance to get their friendship back.  I don't think I'm doing to good in school [except for math, 94% ^.^...but could be better =(].  Just...not much is going right.  Two of my BEST friends just broke up and one seems really hurt by it and doesn't know what to do.  I try my best to make her feel better, but it's hard when I can only really talk to her over msn except for one time at most a week.  So yea...I feel bad for both my friends, which makes me worry about them, cause they were the couple that I thought would never break up...but I guess it can...and if that can happen to those 2, then someone like me has no chance in this world AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So should I give up?  Or continue on wishing that something good can happen?  Cause I don't feel like anything can, not for me, anyways.  It's like I'm only on this earth to demonstraight to others how not to live their lives.  I wish I could go back to the beginning and start over again.  Start from scratch.  Make everything wonderful in life.  Live a dream life.  But I kno that can never happen, cause I've imprisoned myself in this hell, looking for people who will help dig me out.  But alas...I'm stuck for eternity to rot in this hell of mine, always searching, but never finding a way out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like my life is a wide open field, field with the obsticales of life, but I'm stuck within a box.  A box with no door or windows.  A box that doesn't exist.  So does that mean that I don't exist, or that I'm just rambling on about everything?  I wish I wasn't so distant from myself...cause I feel so distant from my friends.  I wish I could change the way I am, but I'm trapt, now...and I can never escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**finishes with poetic quote by Hillary**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may seem happy &lt;br /&gt;but do not be fooled &lt;br /&gt;I may be smiling &lt;br /&gt;but deep inside I cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107973335019622092?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107973335019622092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107973335019622092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_19_archive.html#107973335019622092' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107972827351133128</id><published>2004-03-19T15:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-19T15:43:58.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Current Mood: Happy =)&lt;br /&gt;Current Music: The Closest Thing - The Julianna Theory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really happy that Hillary did this for me =D.  Thanx Hill!!!  Haha, anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never had a journal or anything before, so I'm new at this and the "telling of feelings" thing...and I'm still trying to figure out how to put the god damn bouncy face things that Hill has on her blog &gt;=(, but she's cooking muffins...lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yea...this is just and introduction to me =).  I only think that people who know me are gonna see this..but oh well...I'll have a telling of feelings next time when I find out who's all gonna be seeing this =)  lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all those people who don't kno me (which i doubt any will see this page, then...) read the "Stalk Me" section to learn about me and send me and e-mail =)  lol...i love reading e-mails and I *heart* surveys!  lol.  But to get more into it...I'm about 6'4 and 1/2, brown hair, green/hazel eyes, and I'm to nice to the people around me, lol...if you wanna kno anything else...that's what e-mail is for =)...and MSN is a good place, too =D...anyways...till next time, world...I am Tyson Moss...signing out...**screen goes all fuzzy**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107972827351133128?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107972827351133128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107972827351133128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_19_archive.html#107972827351133128' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644597.post-107971936345814748</id><published>2004-03-19T04:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-03-19T15:00:58.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>New blog for Tyson.  Created by: Hillary The Great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644597-107971936345814748?l=deadmystory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107971936345814748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644597/posts/default/107971936345814748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deadmystory.blogspot.com/2004_03_19_archive.html#107971936345814748' title=''/><author><name>Tysonite</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04497469540200855517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
