tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12163409346921474812024-03-13T04:12:24.467-04:00Virgin FingertipsThis is the unraveling of a twenty-something year old woman. I broke. I cried. I laughed. I hurt myself and others. I grew a backbone. I did many things and had many things happen to me. This story; well, it's the healing of it all. Enjoy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.comBlogger1036125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-84224466047453308282015-06-28T20:38:00.003-04:002015-06-28T20:38:24.754-04:00ravaged<br />
I wanted to be ravaged<br />
Rolled over, devoured and ravaged again<br />
I wanted to be eaten alive<br />
I wanted to be beside myself from the abundance of pleasure and the wisdom to know I deserved it<br />
Womanhood is a strange thing<br />
A blossoming and a wilting all at the same time<br />
And in this isolated moment, I wanted to be ravaged<br />
I wanted to feel a pleasure that was equal to the pain I endured<br />
And so we rolled, we tumbled, we devoured<br />
Clawed at each other's flesh; exhausted our energies<br />
Repented into the sky with our moans<br />
And as he lifted me into the air<br />
I left my baggage at the foot of his bed<br />
<br />
and when I finally settled down into a deep sleep, I decided the baggage would stay there<br />
because the only way I could float was without it Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-15789680836282643822014-11-02T20:02:00.000-05:002014-11-02T20:02:06.163-05:00complimentsyour eyes are sad but your smile has miles.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-56370996978516102882014-08-04T18:16:00.003-04:002014-08-04T18:16:48.996-04:00what we're made ofI am a product of my grandmother's prayers<br />
I am the 31 years of my father's work<br />
I am my mother's smile<br />
I am my daughter's blueprint<br />
<br />
I was built for this long before I walked this Earth<br />
before anybody knew my name<br />
before I ever uttered a word<br />
My destiny was fulfilled with my birth<br />
And the journey is simply for the fuck of it<br />
Take a picture<br />
This is one of a kind<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-26002259875353670382014-07-08T21:48:00.001-04:002014-07-08T21:48:15.127-04:00Love is in the Details<div class="font_9" style="background-position: 0px 0px; border: 0px; color: #555555; font-family: 'open sans', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Is <span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">what</span></span> you value more important than <span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">who</span></span> you value?</div>
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We all want to have successful relationships but it seems many of us haven’t realized that we define success drastically different. Have you ever seen a relationship where you ask yourself, “how does she put up with that?” or “why is he with her? she’s wack.” I know I have said those things once upon a time and I also know that those things have been said about me. Now that I’m a little wiser than my ignorant, younger self, I’m begging all of you to shut the f.ck up. </div>
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I would apologize for being so blunt if I thought there was another way to say it but there isn’t. What YOU want in your relationship doesn’t dictate anyone else’s. You may think his girlfriend is lame because she doesn’t wear the latest MAC products or does her hair but he’s looking for an ambitious woman, a loyal woman, a woman of God - none of the things that can be bought on a gift card. What he sees in her was never meant for you to see. And how does she put up with his flaky monogamy? I don’t know, maybe monogamy wasn’t a requirement for her. Maybe the security and support he offers her is so sustaining that him stepping out isn’t her breaking point. Maybe her goal is to make it work, not to make you think it works perfectly.</div>
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The thing is that our priorities are completely at our discretion. Do you want someone who is monogamous but doesn’t support your dreams? Do you want someone who supports your dreams but doesn’t agree to monogamy? And what about having it all? Is it even possible? Yes, it is possible to have it all but keep in mind - that takes time. It takes work - it takes two people making a conscious decision every morning to face these challenges together 24 hours at a time. Because dating is ultimately practice for marriage and if you’ve ever had to practice anything you know that practice is where mistakes are supposed to happen. It’s uncomfortable, it’s doing something over and over again until it’s embedded so deep into your brain that it comes naturally. Practice hurts.</div>
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But whatever your priorities are or whatever your goal is - it’s yours, not theirs. It’s unfair to impose your beliefs or ideas on a relationship that you’re not in. It’s not your work and it’s not your reward. And though it may be hard to watch your friends get hurt through the process of loving another person - love is about endless forgiveness. Some love is unconditional and you don’t know what they’re willing to sacrifice to achieve their goal. Love is in the details. It can be catered to our quirks, our dreams, and even our fears. Decide what your values are honestly and live and LOVE accordingly. Don’t be fake and expect something real to take over your life. It just doesn’t happen like that. It never happens like that.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-55551212700806724002014-06-29T09:38:00.001-04:002014-06-29T09:38:07.244-04:00take your time<div style="text-align: center;">
changing yourself is hard work</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you will slip into your old self sometimes </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
be slow to anger when that happens</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just take it easy</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you've been through a lot</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the success is that you're willing to change</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the award is the actual change</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
championships don't have overnight</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
fairytales don't either</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-4940391952826581202014-06-29T09:32:00.002-04:002014-06-29T09:32:12.443-04:00mind what you consume<div style="text-align: center;">
you will ultimately become what you tolerate the most</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
therefore if failure is more familiar to you than love</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if disrespect is more frequent than unconditional love</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you will end up looking like what you've been through</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and that kind of darkness wears your beauty down</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you are what you eat</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what nourishes you, destroys you </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you are what you consume</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you are who you love</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you are the culmination of everything you've ever been through and everyone you've been through it with</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
choose your lovers wisely because some of them are teaching everything but love</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-10991896004795749862014-06-29T09:25:00.001-04:002014-06-29T09:32:28.454-04:00good thing<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I had a dream I was mugged outside your house</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I had a dream in a panic you came running out</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">For a moment you were sure I'd die on you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">For a moment I believed you loved me too</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But life is never like this, and you're never strong</span></div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Too much of a good thing won't be good for long</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Although you made my heart sing, to stay with you would be wrong</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Too much of a good thing won't be good anymore</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Watch where I tread before I fall</span></div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We'd talk maybe 20 times a day</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And still I never say what I want to say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I thought I wouldn't need to</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess I read you wrong</span></b></div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Too much of a good thing won't be good for long</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Although you made my heart sing, to stay with you would be wrong</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Too much of a good thing won't be good anymore</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Watch where I tread before I fall</span></div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">You refuse to see this, don't see it anymore</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I have made the decision not to answer your calls</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Cause I put everything out there and I got nothing at all</span></div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Too much of a good thing isn't good and you know</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I watch where I walk before I fall</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Before I fall</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">by sam smith</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-68953375285516276362014-06-11T21:09:00.001-04:002014-08-13T19:17:38.351-04:00The Sand is SafeIt's like walking on water, I don't know if I'm drowning or in the midst of a miracle<br />
<div>
It takes some kind of faith to remain sturdy in his steps</div>
<div>
I close my eyes and feel him </div>
<div>
I can feel the goosebumps on skin so sensitive I forget there's skin there</div>
<div>
I walk in his whispers, his voice guiding my steps, creeping into my subconscious</div>
<div>
He is with me even when he is not </div>
<div>
And I am able to walk on water </div>
<div>
Never once reaching back for the shore</div>
<div>
Not for its security </div>
<div>
Not to mimic the way it forgives the water for crashing into it time and time again</div>
<div>
I never look back to the shore, shaking and trembling I still walk </div>
<div>
Not knowing if I'm going to drown or if I'm in the midst of a miracle</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
And when I feel like I'm just about to crumble from the weakness in my knees, it hits me<br />
He has given me wings<br />
I was never walking on water<br />
I was taking flight</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-1753453273622918892014-05-28T17:48:00.001-04:002014-05-28T17:48:00.427-04:00Maya AngelouI like comics but my superheroes didn't wear capes. They were women in brown skin and Auntie Maya was one of them. As a writer, I struggled to find my space; a space where I could comfortably exist in my own truth. Lies and atrocities gain so much fame while the truth cowers itself in dark shadows. Auntie Maya taught me differently. She taught me that even in a cage, locked away from human touch, I could still sing and make my presence known. She taught me that every ex-boyfriend is a lesson, not a punishment. And she also taught me to do whatever you have to do to survive - even if you are crucified for it. If you should die for anything, shouldn't it be for your right to live?<br />
<br />
When I heard of her passing, it was because I have made it quite known that Maya Angelou is one of my idols. I don't speak about writing if I don't mention Auntie Maya and I've even been humbled enough to occupy some space with her in a sentence.<br />
<br />
<i>'You are the Maya Angelou of our time Tass.'</i> When I first heard that, I was floored because Auntie Maya has spread herself across all generations. I am blessed to be on Earth while air was in her lungs but let's face it, Auntie Maya has transcended what we understand time to be. Her story is by far one of the greatest tales on Earth riddled with triumphs and failures, sadness and resilience, peace and war. When I think back to the things she's written, I wonder how she made torture sound so beautiful. Her command of the English language is something that cannot be taught, merely observed. To be a pioneer of that magnitude and still seemingly humble and grateful to be here at all, Auntie Maya has shown me that there is a beautiful story only brown women know. I want to thank her every day for making the girl who read the dictionary twice feel like I fit somewhere. I want to thank her for teaching me how to survive in health, in words and in grace. And I really want to thank her for the tough love - for reminding women that one man doesn't make you a whore and one unplanned pregnancy doesn't make you stupid and most importantly - that a lifetime of pain doesn't make you less valuable. <br />
<br />
Auntie Maya makes my scars seem like stripes and it is a flag I wear proudly as a fellow Black woman, mother and writer. May we all find some peace in a woman who went to war with life and came out on the other side just as pure as the day she was born.<br />
<br />
Decide that you are phenomenal. Decide that no cage can keep you. Decide that when the wind knocks you down, it won't keep you there. Decide that you are a descendent of Auntie Maya, who was a queen amongst ruins. The only way to see your light is through the darkness. Embrace that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-15062993568942898072014-04-27T19:12:00.001-04:002014-04-27T20:45:01.854-04:00You can say hi, I promise I won't bite<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dear A,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
It's crazy how the world works. It creates these platforms that give regular people like myself (Regular meaning, I wasn't born with a red carpet in front of me or a silver spoon in my mouth. The world did not throw a party for me or my mother when I was born) expansive reach in getting our messages out and then tells the people who support us to only do so from a distance because face-to-face contact makes you more groupie and less human. (sarcasm font)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm here to tell you and everyone else, that artists desperately need those connections. We sit behind computers, blank pages and canvases, in the shadows of smokey studios or in the corner of quiet parks and we are alone for much of the time. We are alone so much that feeling lonely starts to feel the same. No one is a groupie because they approach me and comment on my work. Meeting you reminds me that I am not alone and I am not lonely. I am a woman who welcomes other people into my space, my heart and my arms if they have good intentions and a pure gratitude for the fact that I exist on Earth. I wish more people were like you; willing to extend a hand and remind us artists that our work isn't just a job, it's a conversation that we sometimes forget we're having. I speak to all of you and though I may not hear your thoughts or responses, the day you reveal yourself to me, is the day that the story completes itself. It's more powerful than a meet and greet. It has more depth than a handshake in a crowded bar. We remember you and not in the crevices of our millions of neurons. But we remember you in the front of our minds right before we begin a new project and dream a new dream. We go home and talk to our loved ones about you. We tell them how all we could keep saying is "Thank You" and how it still doesn't seem like enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">You should never "feel" like a groupie. In fact, I'm your groupie. I adore y'all. I love y'all. I write for y'all. I'm indebted to y'all. If anybody wants to meet you, it's me. Artists are only as successful as you make us. And if you feel awkward about talking to me, you're not alone. I feel awkward too because I won't be able to thank you enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm human, I'm grateful and I'm always listening to you. I'm yours.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-45000486818935407382014-03-03T23:34:00.000-05:002014-03-03T23:34:13.238-05:00Cinderellaleft my glass slipper behind<br />
more like a pair of air max 95s<br />
but I can't go back there<br />
I can buy another pair<br />
can't buy courage though - can't really afford it this pay period<br />
I ain't no quitter but I'm not suicidal either<br />
not this week, not for you man<br />
not for any man this time<br />
we didn't break up<br />
I broke<br />
in half<br />
and then into smaller pieces<br />
pieces small enough to squeeze myself in between the lines of our text messages<br />
and when I re-read them I noticed something<br />
you responded<br />
you reacted<br />
but you never reached for me<br />
even when I ran out and left my shoes behind<br />
you didn't reach for me<br />
and now I can thank you for that<br />
the wrong grip feels like a noose anyway<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-91275930278685986362014-02-03T12:47:00.000-05:002014-02-03T12:47:47.453-05:00What a Challenge...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvhbnYztXr_YiB00cM0dJDTsyYywvQM32efTkYZthCD38pFIsOXYGq3Q1nCcbwmQOWZxnqJqwi0Tf3mHiIri5ycf2_uj-wbTBReQT3-rTOaPjzW_p8WgiKis1nm_IVoaVgKCaarU0Z9o/s1600/TWUNSFAWFFEBRUARYWRITINGCHALLENGE-736x1024.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvhbnYztXr_YiB00cM0dJDTsyYywvQM32efTkYZthCD38pFIsOXYGq3Q1nCcbwmQOWZxnqJqwi0Tf3mHiIri5ycf2_uj-wbTBReQT3-rTOaPjzW_p8WgiKis1nm_IVoaVgKCaarU0Z9o/s1600/TWUNSFAWFFEBRUARYWRITINGCHALLENGE-736x1024.png" height="320" width="230" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Let's catch up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">February 1: About me, creatively</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://tasslloyd.wix.com/made-with-love" target="_blank">Made with Love</a> - that's all about me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">February 2: Past/current relationship</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The most important relationship is the one I've had and have with God. That's a love I can count on, it's the only one that hasn't hurt. For that, it has been the only mutually monogamous one I've ever been in.</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-27913669539520137282014-01-30T08:51:00.000-05:002014-01-30T08:58:29.908-05:0010,000 hour rule<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One of my favorite authors, Malcolm Gladwell examined the keys to success in his best selling novel, <i>Outliers: The Story of Success. </i>In it, he mentions the 10,000 hour rule, claiming that the key to success in any field is largely due to practicing the specific task for a total of around 10,000 hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have loved the same man 10,000 ways.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And yet, I feel nothing like an expert. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In fact, every time he looks at me, I feel like a beginner all over again.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-21065695227591446702014-01-24T13:43:00.003-05:002014-01-24T13:43:59.938-05:00the act<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">of course, you're good at juggling everything. you're a clown.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and sometimes we feel like we're in the audience but we're really a part of the act.</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-13029272380426064852014-01-02T01:05:00.002-05:002014-01-02T01:05:42.251-05:00marriage<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10150378870054271">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SASSIE2DEF">Melissa Sassie Christian</a>.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-20883254338837936352013-12-16T18:46:00.001-05:002013-12-16T18:46:03.561-05:00you.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">you ignite the same flame that will set my house on fire</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and i'm gonna wanna run back anyway</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">to pull the burning memories out before they crumble into ashes that spell your name</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i look at you and my blood tingles</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">my chest heaves in excitement</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">my vision gets blurry and I'm left to only smell you</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">because when you walk into a room, that room becomes my world</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and it spins with every step you take</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">you are the only flower in my forest</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-71024689090517292852013-12-15T11:12:00.000-05:002013-12-15T11:12:38.879-05:00regret<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i regret everything you do </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and none of who you are</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">you are the coagulation of impulse decisions</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the bloodclot to my own intelligence </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and i weep over my lawless stupidity</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want so bad to dismiss you </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">to kiss you </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">just to turn around and miss you </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">this is an unrequited love of self</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">for loving you is killing me </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and suicide is full of the unloved</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-83911825110880416322013-12-07T00:02:00.001-05:002013-12-07T00:06:10.978-05:00Being Best Friends<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jay-Z and Beyonce don't keep their relationship a secret. They keep it sacred.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You have to be your lover's best friend. It's about the basics. The foundation, the crux, the groundwork. You have to be each other's best friend. I've titled this year "The Recovery." It has been almost 365 days of applying the lessons learned in the last year. There have been epiphanies and condolences. There have been whirlwinds of truth; the type of truths that knock you off your feet; that require you stand before God and weep. How dangerous is shame? It makes you lie to yourself, convince yourself that you deserve better while still living in a very mediocre manner. It's a shame, it's a bleeding shame that we crumble underneath our own truths. And we focus so hard on being the perfect partner and we forget to be an honest human. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I may not always have a boyfriend, but I will have redemption. It will always be within my grasp. I always have the opportunity to become a phenomenal person, I just have to decide that being phenomenal is worth more than being afraid.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How many mistakes have I made? Countless and yet there's been an improvement anyway. This year, I can count the mistakes on hand. Before, I had so many mistakes, I could fill a football field with the type of regret I had weighing down on my chest. That's God's mercy moving. It's not enough to fix everything but it's enough to have faith that everything will be fixed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm probably not the girl you want on your arm, or the girl who made all the right decisions. But I see you the way God sees you. I see perfect blood in your veins. I see sculpted excellence. I could drink a case of you and still be on my feet for the simple fact that your humanity is so sobering with a divine lens.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You are magical and I probably don't deserve you. Thank God we don't reap what we really sow. And thank God, I'm different from you. You stay even though you don't forgive me and I hide in the shadows and forgive you anyway. But I miss my friend the most. Not even his lips, or his skin, or the way his bones curve underneath his flesh. I miss the faith he had in me. I miss the days he thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world and I miss the days where I thought our love was sacred instead of thinking our flaws would be a spectacle. Somewhere I started doubting the man, I started worrying myself with the concerns of others. I started performing instead of living and I lost my best friend. And I miss him in the most gentle way ever. It's as if he was a beautiful flower in an unlikely place. I wouldn't pluck him from the ground. I would simply watch his petals dance in the wind. I would just watch and inhale his scent. I lost my best friend and now when I look at him, I'm just happy to be here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Be your lover's best friend. Friends have a way of making us feel safe. That safe place, where you can lay your burdens at the door and roast your truths into the warm fireplace, that safe place is where healthy relationships are born...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Fall in love with your best friend. And if the first time doesn't work, fall in love again anyway. It is the wings of best friends that allow us to fly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/o6kKCmaEbvs?version=3&hl=en_US"></param>
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<embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/o6kKCmaEbvs?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-12773654499175769132013-11-19T09:51:00.000-05:002013-11-19T13:17:38.145-05:00ex-static for the old him<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm glad he didn't give me what I wanted. It was nothing I needed. When I told him to "leap," I never imagined it would be out of my arms. I told him to chase whatever he had faith in. I didn't prepare myself for him having faith in another woman. A part of me is happy for him, truly. He is with the very thing that he has true faith in. He is not making more empty memories with me. He is not robbing me of a magnificent love. He is freeing me from a mediocre one - one which was simply out of comfort. I was his comfort zone, he had to move to really have a chance at living, at loving. I was his safety net and what are safety nets for? They're just there to tell you that you'll be ok when you leap and if you don't land on something amazing, you'll survive landing in something ordinary. It was time to put to use all that I taught him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I thank him for not keeping me. I served my purpose in his life and he served his purpose in mine and maybe when I finally left, her true purpose was revealed. Maybe I made a better man of him and maybe he required me to be more than a safety net for someone else. Either way, we taped each other back up, healed one another and put the other back into the world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I thank him for putting me back into the atmosphere. I was lost in America; wounded by many and recovery was more of a burden than the light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He loved me when I was broken and I loved him before he was a man. He was just a boy with deep dimples when I held him. Still, it made us who we are. It made him for her and it made me for...well me. No matter how tall my tree grows, I will always bear his fruit; ripe with experience and soft to the touch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9-jhwqcCDLO8Ud5dRWPruYsA1cbLj1rNQqAi4YYonTy9EALDQG2wMsAGABLKkqJsNtyb4ljnhBi58vtoHjvB5IWh3OFzTwmMauf8Ft1UWw1ZASn0Z3taBevcPKPzCEIT6WiLGVUv1-c/s1600/IMG_6696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9-jhwqcCDLO8Ud5dRWPruYsA1cbLj1rNQqAi4YYonTy9EALDQG2wMsAGABLKkqJsNtyb4ljnhBi58vtoHjvB5IWh3OFzTwmMauf8Ft1UWw1ZASn0Z3taBevcPKPzCEIT6WiLGVUv1-c/s320/IMG_6696.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-47420949755422101632013-11-11T11:19:00.000-05:002013-11-11T11:20:11.999-05:00Danny and Annie<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><object height="315" width="400"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/WNfvuJr9164?hl=en_US&version=3"></param>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Don't read any of this until you watch the video above.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Loving intimately after losing someone is a strange thing. Last month, my ex-boyfriend passed away from the same disease that took my father. Since then, every opportunity to love again is overshadowed by this crippling fear. And let me be more specific, losing Daddy has raised questions and concerns I never considered before. Every time I see a wedding, I think to myself, who's going to walk me down the aisle or who's going to lean into my husband's ear and demand that he take care of me. And every time I think of love, I think of sickness. Will he love me when my hair starts to fall out? Will he help me get out of bed when my knees are too weak to carry me? Will he be strong enough to watch me die? In sickness and in health stands out to me now. Every time I think of love, I think of death and if I will find someone to love me through that. I'm terrified. That's what losing daddy does.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The last two days, I feel like I started being self-sabotage Tass. I started to pull myself away from it. The fear hovered above me like an overcast and I wish I could define it for you. I wish I could define it for myself. My dad was my first love and the video reminds me of that - how hard it is to lose and how all the preparation in the world doesn't make it easier. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While love is love, romance changes often. Love letters and intimate dinners used to be romantic. And now, letting me watch my favorite show even if football is on is pretty romantic. Or telling me that I'm still beautiful with only half of my hair blow-dried. Romance changes and I guess, the fear is that I won't find a love grand enough to survive something as scary as cancer. Daddy said the same thing Danny said, 'he has a poor gift for me and it's himself but he gives it to me anyway.' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have no fear that I won't find someone amazing like that or that I haven't already. I just want to know if like Danny and Daddy, will he love me to death?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">[thank you Tyler for the video]</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-3126333689714656842013-10-22T10:59:00.001-04:002013-10-22T11:00:16.972-04:00Press Play<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/4kmGHAgoOBY?hl=en_US&version=3"></param>
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<embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/4kmGHAgoOBY?hl=en_US&version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess it's like all of the stars falling out of the sky</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Their whiteness plunging into the darkness of the sea beneath them </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The world wouldn't even know what to do if the entire ceiling opened up weeping its condolences</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We'd stand there feeling small, reminded how heavy the earth can be </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and how even its seams have breaking points</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I feel like that's what cancer is...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">falling stars</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">misguided light</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">misunderstood energy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's a loss too great to bear and too much to fathom</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and we can't even catch the burden</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">it slips through our weak fingers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">too unprepared for the unimaginable</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and you want to scream</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">you want to yell into the darkness</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but your pride convinces you that it will only do more harm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">because God forbid, someone hears you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">God forbid that anyone hear you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and if only sound travelled at the speed of light</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the pain would cause explosions in the sky</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">every star is a grave</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">every grave is a star that gave up</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">that fell out of the sky</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">that realized heaven isn't that comfortable</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and even with all of the things you've dreamed of</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">no gift is greater than life</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">no gift feels as good as breathing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but what's a gift to cancer?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">what does a gift even mean to cancer?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">cancer's never woken up early on Christmas morning to even know what gifts feel like</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">never </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and now, the people that it takes won't feel that Christmas morning joy ever again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and they won't see the sky crumble upon their arrivals</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and we'll never get to see them in their wings</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">we'll never see their faces full with healthy blushing blood</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and we'll never hear their laughs carried by the wind again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but we will see the sky crumble </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">we will see the magnificence of pain and we will feel the weight of all the angels above us</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and there, we will crumble too</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-52711620180787207662013-10-04T13:22:00.002-04:002013-10-06T11:13:28.643-04:00She's Your Daughter Too
My dear family, friends and gracious supporters,
It's been a long time coming and it's been a wonderful journey. In 2009, I started this blog as a homework assignment and slowly but surely, it's changed my life. I am so blessed to have experiences, support and a gift that allowed me to transform my entire world, imaginative and real into an eternal body of work. Your unconditional love and encouragement has shaped me into not only an author but a woman of tremendous faith that the human race is powerful beyond measure.
<blockquote></blockquote>I present to you, 25 exclusive FIRST EDITION copies of my first novel, She's Your Daughter Too.
<blockquote></blockquote>"A girl's first love should always be her daddy. A young Dylan grew up dancing on her father's feet and sitting in his lap while she pretended to drive his white Chevy. They were best friends - he was her hero and she was the sun in his sky. When dating, Dylan often thought back to her dad's wise words. Her search for prince charming would always remind her of how much of a king her father was. When tragedy strikes unexpectedly, kings become memories and lessons becomes the scriptures she never fully understood. Guided by her father's voice, Dylan navigates her way through betrayal, assault, infidelity, and loss. As she struggles through the muddy waters of her womanhood, she finds herself hanging from the threads of men who never knew how to love her anyway. And if any of this sounds vaguely familiar, it should because She's Your Daughter Too."
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WSoPDFEUIU1vlw1CWgVo9OKUhg8H1apofSvZSv1EZRMgZ3T-Q_6sDZ8oBtjqLpRihZQiFWrs5hcDwRzxo8lh5mjKfGFzjq6XB4NN5mNb89dOs52ntzDBOfxohN8sj8iDZjYYZ6DX0Ko/s1600/DSC_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WSoPDFEUIU1vlw1CWgVo9OKUhg8H1apofSvZSv1EZRMgZ3T-Q_6sDZ8oBtjqLpRihZQiFWrs5hcDwRzxo8lh5mjKfGFzjq6XB4NN5mNb89dOs52ntzDBOfxohN8sj8iDZjYYZ6DX0Ko/s320/DSC_0330.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPn6GcdIhFGgEPno7HDiKRtXgXwQmGdgSVwN3iillNKWUZ5SDRYflgh-0RQdB7En3oozR30i_muPFYNdDa6ReGApGEEOKDx-Bx9SzF_7cDMObwXO7tfpwI6GKdviEct2xldOimebAbW-s/s1600/IMG_3840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPn6GcdIhFGgEPno7HDiKRtXgXwQmGdgSVwN3iillNKWUZ5SDRYflgh-0RQdB7En3oozR30i_muPFYNdDa6ReGApGEEOKDx-Bx9SzF_7cDMObwXO7tfpwI6GKdviEct2xldOimebAbW-s/s320/IMG_3840.jpg" /></a></div><blockquote><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-21569547490800543202013-10-04T12:42:00.000-04:002013-10-04T12:42:51.104-04:00Thank You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZ4_Xtwyy2RAa3oC0aU8yVWjoG3AxjoWv0jmT0c62tnCkPapOCoC3lZLNm1sCqfMTCcFhMbOozWF5so0PDBddJo490b_hhgunJHID75f1fgsCvJUIbcjaOdbV1HLzpUH6c31sUJoY9rY/s1600/Thank-You.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZ4_Xtwyy2RAa3oC0aU8yVWjoG3AxjoWv0jmT0c62tnCkPapOCoC3lZLNm1sCqfMTCcFhMbOozWF5so0PDBddJo490b_hhgunJHID75f1fgsCvJUIbcjaOdbV1HLzpUH6c31sUJoY9rY/s640/Thank-You.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-8367345061339743602013-09-26T11:29:00.001-04:002013-09-26T11:29:23.158-04:00The Black Hole<p>Please read my first (of many) posts about my life changing experience at the Social Good Summit! SO EXCITED!</p><a href='http://dy.si/15kJ' target='_blank'><img src='http://3680d80185143896ad57-06d1f696271f3d7befcd1d73ea57948d.r53.cf2.rackcdn.com/113101/article/fc1fdebe-cabe-4335-97fb-2a1d3907fcf4_B320'></a><h2><a href='http://dy.si/15kJ' target='_blank'>The Black Hole</a></h2> I registered to the Social Good Summit for the first time ever this year. I consciously decided to come as press because I wanted to use the opportunity to absorb all the information I possibly could and hold myself accountable for relaying it. I had never even heard about the summit before scrolling through my personal list of socially conscious tweeters. (Following socially conscious accounts is relatively new for me so this was monumental) At the time of registration, the agenda was not yet available and I still had a sense that those three days would somehow change my life. Once seated in the Digital Media Lounge with the agenda and my laptop in front of me, I was instantly overwhelmed. There were...<a href='http://dy.si/15kJ' target='_blank'>Read More</a><hr /><a href='http://www.plussocialgood.org' target='_blank'>Shared from +SocialGood</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09957227890832766822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1216340934692147481.post-63039511961927287382013-09-26T00:51:00.000-04:002013-09-26T00:51:03.760-04:00my joy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lVeIoQmYmRXlcIZuAw2QpR_2IWPPb5B3pmCQfgC-rkv983fYSeWGO0t7C26RPb-O3Yn4ShpGufQWjOssKJfNYrSkCXar6jDsma2Txy7gllt8rQELIxbQu19eLNibg1d889V13r0zLBY/s1600/IMG_4559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lVeIoQmYmRXlcIZuAw2QpR_2IWPPb5B3pmCQfgC-rkv983fYSeWGO0t7C26RPb-O3Yn4ShpGufQWjOssKJfNYrSkCXar6jDsma2Txy7gllt8rQELIxbQu19eLNibg1d889V13r0zLBY/s640/IMG_4559.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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