<?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-5053761</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:48:04.949-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Innocence Asunder</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kyoji</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11572127430037133647</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>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5053761.post-89286339</id><published>2003-02-17T23:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2003-02-17T23:10:22.310-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Blah. I have a headache. My soloist in the choir has larengytis (I won't even pretend to act like I know how to spell that, but it's something wrong in the throat with no voice). For some reason the rest of the group thinks that if she has to sit out a few days, they can act crazy and not rehearse. Choke them all I say. CHOKE THEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let Sami talk me into going to the gym with her tonight. Mit-chan was there working. Sami had an aerobics class so I sat on one of those exercise bikes watching Mitsuran "spot" for these other scantily clad muscle-headed beefcakes who were pumping weights that he was smiling at and I have this urge to kill rising... Grr. Mit-chan laughed about it, but it really bothers me that he works with guys like that all day nearly every day. I'm not built at all. He is, but I'm not. He assures me that it isn't what he wants in a man for himself, only what he wants for his own body. It makes him feel stronger since he is quite like a giant teddy bear. But I'm still very jealous. Oh well. At least *I* get to crawl into bed with him in a little while. Those other guys can rot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound so mean when I have a headache. I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear about the jealous rants of some idiot, do you? Nor do you care how my day at work went. Why are you even reading this? Someone please tell me what I should be writing here.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053761-89286339?l=innocenceasunder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89286339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89286339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/2003_02_16_archive.html#89286339' title=''/><author><name>Kyoji</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11572127430037133647</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-5053761.post-89215341</id><published>2003-02-16T20:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2003-02-16T20:37:40.570-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have been itching to write to this all day now and forced myself to wait until I had something to write about. I do not have anything to write about now but I am going to post anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, Yui, thank you for tagging this and linking me. I am going to add a link to you in a little bit. Thank you for being sane, too. Dani and Asuka, I am worried about you two. Poor dog. Or was it a hamster? Geez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do today? Oh. I took a bath today and started reading a book called &lt;i&gt;The Stone Prince.&lt;/i&gt; I helped Sami with her physical science homework. I argued with Mit-chan over whether or not the bottle of Dr. Pepper we have is flat or not. (I say it is. He said there's something wrong with my taste buds. I say he'll just put anything in his mouth. *big grins*) We all ate so much pizza that I think we're all going to be very sick soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About what I said last night about not being sure about any of this being real? Sometimes I just get dumb like that and think way too much. There's no way anything will ever make me want to be away from Mitsuran. Just being near him makes me very happy. Fueko (who is my ex-fiance) made me happy as well but there was a constant something isn't right feeling with her. With Mit-chan I can just be. So. That clears that up. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please play with my tagboard so I know you are reading this. It is one-sided this way. I don't know what else to type here. So I quit now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053761-89215341?l=innocenceasunder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89215341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89215341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/2003_02_16_archive.html#89215341' title=''/><author><name>Kyoji</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11572127430037133647</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-5053761.post-89174283</id><published>2003-02-15T23:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2003-02-15T23:31:19.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All night I've been waiting to post here while Dani made this page for me and now she's done it, I'm like nervous and cannot figure out what to say. Who's going to read this anyway? Should I just talk to the people I know online or post everything here? Maybe it's better that I don't know who will read this. Mine may turn out to be my new journal. I keep that on disk and hide it from everyone. Let us see how we handle this, ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one should have to feel this scared the day after Valentine's Day. Last night was completely amazing. I don't think I've ever been so romantically swept off my feet in my entire life. Mitsuran just really got into this whole American version of the holiday. He did really good. &lt;b&gt;REALLY&lt;/b&gt; good. Today I've been really... what's that word you use when you have a lot of moods changing rapidly? Moody? I'm not sure but I hope you know what I mean. I've been like that all day. I should be thinking of yesterday and smiling a lot but I can't quit thinking with all these bad thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I'm not really as happy as I think I am? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was living in Japan, I had what you may call a perfect type of life. I was going to become a doctor like Father and I lived in a good apartment with a beautiful woman. Every night I told her I loved her before we went to sleep. I do the same thing with Mit-chan now. With her, she was very happy and I thought I was, too. I thought I did love her. I did love her. Sad to say it was not how she wanted it to be. I didn't know that myself until I had that mental breakdown and gave up everything I had. Does it make sense? I had a wonderful life but I did not feel like it was real. It was like I was living in a dream that my parents gave to me. I realized one day I did not know who I was and so I fought and woke up. I was not happy in that dream. I broke it by waking myself up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so worried that I have created another dream that one day I will want to wake up from. This time the dream has everything I decided I wanted. Mitsuran, the man I love with all my heart. Sami, the woman that I would do anything for who is my best friend. A job as a choir director, the job that I sincerely enjoy. A life in America, the place where I've always wanted to live. I don't think I want to give any of this up. If you would have asked me a few weeks before my breakdown if I was happy with my life in Japan, I would have told you I was and that nothing would ever make me want to give it up. If you ask me now if I am happy with my life in America, I tell you that I am very happy in all ways and would not want to give it up. Why am I so scared of the answer changing? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melancholy! That was the word I think I was looking for. Yay for me. Sami said bipolar fits better. I don't mind her reading this but if Mitsuran ever found out about this I think he'd be hurt. Sami talked with me a lot today. I told her about this and she said I was just weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mit-chan rented some movies so I am going to go watch the movies with him and Sami. I will try to say more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053761-89174283?l=innocenceasunder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89174283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89174283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/2003_02_09_archive.html#89174283' title=''/><author><name>Kyoji</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11572127430037133647</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-5053761.post-89169164</id><published>2003-02-15T21:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2003-02-15T21:12:35.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All good things start somewhere right? Here is good enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5053761-89169164?l=innocenceasunder.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89169164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5053761/posts/default/89169164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://innocenceasunder.blogspot.com/2003_02_09_archive.html#89169164' title=''/><author><name>Kyoji</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11572127430037133647</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>
