<?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-38750282</id><updated>2011-04-30T21:43:20.296-07:00</updated><category term='love'/><category term='david'/><title type='text'>Put Back the Stars</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-9104035134158839824</id><published>2007-05-04T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T04:38:33.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New(s) Flash</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="550" height="400"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="INTRO.swf"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/INTRO.swf" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the intro to our Multimedia webpage. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I made it myself) :O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-9104035134158839824?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/9104035134158839824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=9104035134158839824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/9104035134158839824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/9104035134158839824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-is-intro-to-our-multimedia-webpage.html' title='New(s) Flash'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-7070242868817259755</id><published>2007-03-23T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T04:29:40.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flash Project</title><content type='html'>Well, long time no see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something I made in Multimedia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="550" height="400"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="somefilename.swf"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/levling.swf" width="400" height="400"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-7070242868817259755?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/7070242868817259755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=7070242868817259755' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/7070242868817259755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/7070242868817259755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/03/flash-project.html' title='Flash Project'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-1490553739683451034</id><published>2007-02-13T01:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T01:20:46.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Take it easy, take it easy! No, I did not stop blogging all of a sudden. I am still a blogger, it'll take longer than two weeks before I stop again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just over at David's the whole weekend having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not gonna post another thing about how much I love him. One needs to keep your blog interesting and refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to write about Adam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's singing some kind of crap song (he tells me it's queens of the stone age - fear of something something) and hitting me. Not hitting on me, because that would be totally gross and I would ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It would be totally gay to hit on some one like you" he tells me. Aren't he the sweet one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to my story. It would be totally gross and I would end up in a ditch covered in petrol on fire. (quote: Eddie Izzard)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I promised Adam I was gonna write the correct title of the song he was singing. But now he left. And now he's gonna hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, that would make him gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But come to think of it, he already is gay. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-1490553739683451034?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/1490553739683451034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=1490553739683451034' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/1490553739683451034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/1490553739683451034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/02/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-8328345105806648262</id><published>2007-02-05T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T13:57:22.868-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='david'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Light Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll sing it one last time for you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then we really have to go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You've been the only thing that's right &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In all I've done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;People might question me when I say I'm in love. And I might be wrong, but I know I've never felt like this for anyone. Scientists have tried to define&lt;em&gt; love&lt;/em&gt; for a long time and they've realized we have a map of qualities in our mind. And these qualities come from people we've met during our lifetime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I can barely look at you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But every single time I do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know we'll make it any where &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Away from here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;One of these qualities in my map is bird with a broken wing, as my aunt put it. Another one is funny. Another one is understanding. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And one is nice&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And one is emotional. And one is ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have some high expectations. But I want to focus on the first quality. Bird with a broken wing. Someone who wants me. Someone who has a flaw and just needs acceptance. I have a need to be needed. Someone to go with me, any where away from here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Light up, light up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As if you have a choice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Even if you can not hear my voice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll be right beside you dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Right now David is taking a walk. He told me not to worry. But I guess I love him too much, because it's a really hard thing to do. If it was up to me I'd be right beside him at all times. But I've made that mistake before, and I learn from my mistakes. I just really like him, okay? Am I allowed to really like someone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Louder, Louder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And we'll run for our lives &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can hardly speak I understand &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why you can't raise your voice to say &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To think I might not see those eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Makes it so hard not to cry &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And as we say our long goodbyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I nearly do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I don't know. But somehow I don't really mind appreciating my boyfriend so much that he's all I ever think about. But in this world I'm not really allowed to. We're so afraid of this love. The love where everything just.. Stops. The love where every good bye I fear is going to be the last. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Every time I say good bye I fear it's the last time I will ever see him. It's because of what he's done earlier in his life. And every breath he takes I'm grateful for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I guess I really appreciate him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Light up, light up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As if you have a choice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Even if you can not hear my voice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll be right beside you dear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Snow Patrol - Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-8328345105806648262?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/8328345105806648262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=8328345105806648262' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/8328345105806648262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/8328345105806648262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/02/light-up.html' title='Light Up'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-117058128549759682</id><published>2007-02-04T01:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T01:28:05.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Attention Whore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/1600/431578/attentionwhore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/320/993815/attentionwhore.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Flippin attention whore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-117058128549759682?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/117058128549759682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=117058128549759682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117058128549759682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117058128549759682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/02/attention-whore.html' title='Attention Whore'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-117058019339064654</id><published>2007-02-04T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T01:09:53.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Feet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; I don't really have a topic for this post. I'm just amazingly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="186" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/320/711872/095237.jpg" width="254" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Guess who? I'll give you a hint: He is amazingly tired so I have to hop around without a sound. But I'm the daughter of a Devil so it's impossible to not act like paparazzi and take bad pictures of good people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We baked Chocolate Chip Cookies yesterday. I forgot how good the dough is. It's better than the actual cookies, really. Although, those were some goshdarnit good tasting cookies. We also made some chocolate pudding to go with the main course of Samuel L. Mothafuckin Jackson, but when we got upstairs we lay down on the bed and fell asleep just appreciating each other.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;happy happy happy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But today I'm doing something completely different! Or, I'm probably going to be very happy and appreciate it alot. But I'm not going to fall asleep doing it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dear friend Allan is on air today. 1PM-3PM Swedish time. You figure out what time that is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hint: Sweden is GMT+1&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, tune in via the internet, why dontcha. &lt;a href="http://www.wrir.org"&gt;http://www.wrir.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another good link: &lt;a href="http://camelsback23.blogspot.com"&gt;http://camelsback23.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; &lt;- Allan, mah homie yah.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't worry, be happy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-117058019339064654?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/117058019339064654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=117058019339064654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117058019339064654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117058019339064654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/02/dancing-feet.html' title='Dancing Feet'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-117046421078587247</id><published>2007-02-02T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T05:24:09.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;EEK, second post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about what my blog is going to be about. I chose the name "Put Back the Stars" while listening to Blindside's song with the same name. (what a coincidence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about being lost. And I think my whole life has been about not knowing where to go, or always changing the roads I've chosen. Like, taking a road and after about an hour you realize it was the next exit to the right after the Burger King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/1600/710204/121501.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/1600/418971/IMG_9131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/200/908449/IMG_9131.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wake up some days regrettingwhat I have become. Because during my depression I had to make a choice: &lt;strong&gt;who now?&lt;/strong&gt; You see, my depression was about hating the person I was. So I couldn't go back to being happy. And I sure as heck couldn't go on being depressed because it was depressing the crap out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I actually chose who to be. It was like writing a character for a book. I decided which qualities were going to define me: social, happy, extreme and fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it worked pretty darn good for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as mentioned earlier I go down the wrong roads. I would wake up hating my guts for being what I had become. I imagined I was an embarrassment.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/1600/448486/dfasdfsasfds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/320/245230/dfasdfsasfds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Someone who was too extreme, too happy and too much in peoples' faces. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd just lie down in my bed crying because I couldn't even do a simple thing: &lt;em&gt;know who I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So coming back to the beginning of this post: what this blog is going to be about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know. I don't know who I am or where I'm going. I guess I'm going to write some political stuff, some random weird stuff and some ego-stuff. Like my former blog; Swede Gone Bad. But just really messed/mixed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But another thing that it's going to involve is love. Because I still believe in love. I believe in the power of love and that in every relationship we have a choice to base it on love or fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I found love. His name is David.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6289/2379/400/484289/pass.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;photo: trashcatffs.bilddagboken.se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It's just amazing. When I'm with him, I can see the road ahead. Because I can see myself in him. His eyes remind me of the pain I went thru, the feeling of working at becoming a new person.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It's amazing, because all the clichés you hear and hate in the cheesy love songs become true. He's my second half, he's my source of joy, he has the key to my heart. And I won't let anything get in between us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Right now I'm as happy as I can be, considering the circumstances. I mean, even if my medicine has ceased to work and my life is a mess I have somewhere to call my home. David. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Where do you live?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Where ever he is."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-117046421078587247?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/117046421078587247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=117046421078587247' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117046421078587247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117046421078587247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-love.html' title='This Love'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38750282.post-117000783784999570</id><published>2007-01-28T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T10:10:37.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh start</title><content type='html'>So I'm going to start blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-shock-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just posting something so that I can have a swell layout. So, start commenting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38750282-117000783784999570?l=putbackthestars.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/feeds/117000783784999570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38750282&amp;postID=117000783784999570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117000783784999570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38750282/posts/default/117000783784999570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putbackthestars.blogspot.com/2007/01/fresh-start.html' title='Fresh start'/><author><name>em0</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01162226563638430012</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/soetboll/egotrippad_mini.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
