<?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-2108604405685276967</id><updated>2011-11-25T04:09:12.351-08:00</updated><category term='soul mates'/><category term='Distance'/><category term='Wanting'/><category term='ugh'/><category term='Happiness.'/><category term='Motivation'/><category term='boredom'/><category term='Lost'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='rants'/><category term='Lust'/><category term='Size0'/><category term='Celibacy'/><category term='love'/><category term='Fear'/><category term='Heart-ache'/><title type='text'>The Misadventures of Me</title><subtitle type='html'>Random, organized, funny, sad, quite, loud. Me</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-3606876323414496220</id><published>2011-06-17T00:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T05:30:19.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>How I feel his second.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font color="#996633"&gt;Hurt! and I really have no reason to feel this way. Okay the full story. There's this boy I've known for 2+ years who back in March I bought a ticket to come stay with me because he was going through a bunch of bs that I didn't want my friend to go through. Before and after I bought the ticket we always flirted and talked a certain way which lead me to believe that when he got here to expect a certain interaction, I was wrong...he got here and it was like he didn't know me at all. And I dealt with that the best way I knew how, it may not have been how he may have felt I should bu,t it was what I knew to do. So he's here for over a month at this point and less than 24 hours away from leaving and I take him out for his last night here, and in the middle of the night he disappears...and so does this guy whose known as the "town hoe", lovingly of course(-_-). So I search them out and find them in the back seat of one of our friends car. Not doing anything at that point but who knows what did and could have happened. So I make a scene or whatever, we get back to my place and have a HUGE argument, (non-physical of course) and I put him out. Something I was advised to do from the the beginning. And to be 100% honest I didn't really want him to go, I just wanted him to settle down and not come at me the way he was, but that was a long shot. So he calls the cops they come and take him to the train station for him to wait 18+ hours for his train. I end up feeling bad and going to the train station, initially  just to give him some money for food and what not but he looked so pathetic laying there on the floor sleep, so I ended up bring him back to my place until it was time for him to leave for good. He leaves, we don't talk for almost a month, and suddenly I see his name on my FB page posted by someone I introduced him to saying how much they love him and how great of a friend he is...and it KILLS because I've been nothing but real and genuine, to both of these people, and it feels like neither of them care for my existence. Which honestly shouldn't be that big of a issue because they do nothing for me but, still, when you open yourself up to wanting someone to be in your life and to have them shut you out completely, it hurts. And I don't know how to deal with this....&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-3606876323414496220?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/3606876323414496220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=3606876323414496220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/3606876323414496220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/3606876323414496220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2011/06/how-i-feel-his-second.html' title='How I feel his second.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-994173615044852981</id><published>2011-04-04T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T05:30:19.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;July 2, 2007. That was the day I lost my virginity. I wish I could tell you it was to the love of my life or my high school sweetheart or even my boyfriend for 3 years, 8 months and 13 days but, it wasn't. It was to this guy who I had flirted with for a couple months at this local gay club. I remember being bent over in the bathroom stall trying to convince myself that the pain was normal, that it would go away soon. I spent a lot of time assuring myself as a teen that pain wasn't real, that it could be pushed away and ignored and masked with the imitation of pleasure. I remember going home with a sense of relief. I had finally got it over with. Being a 19 year old virgin was hard for me, mainly because I grew up with, presumably, all straight male cousins who had lost their virginity years earlier. I felt like a bad boy for once in my life and It felt good! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hell, being out FELT GOOD! The next weekend my "hook-up" was there with his boyfriend. That was my big welcome to the gay world. You have to understand, I grew up in a not so large city in the state of New York. The only gay person I knew was this transgendered prostitute that was a roommate with my crazy ass aunt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few months later I got involved with this guy who was officially my first boyfriend. I had just moved to DC and finally was becoming comfortable with my sexuality. He and I did the usually boyfriend things, hung out with friends, went to movies, out on dates, sleep over at each other's places. It was a really cute first REAL relationship for me. Then I got this message on Myspace...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You dumb as f**k" was the subject line. Apparently my then boyfriend a few weeks prior to us getting together was in talks with this boy about moving to NYC to be with him and living happily ever after. After exchanging a few messages back and forth the boy gave me his number. I called him up and to be quite honest the only thing I remember is the very last part of the conversation. Right before he angrily hung up he shouted out, "I hope you playin' safe because Julian is positive..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...to be continued.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-994173615044852981?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/994173615044852981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=994173615044852981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/994173615044852981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/994173615044852981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2011/04/july-2-2007.html' title=''/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-2113864824525398855</id><published>2011-02-23T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T07:34:30.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Mood: I don't even know!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663300;"&gt;Lately I've been so out of sync with myself. I have every reason to be happy but I'm not! Well, that's not completely true, I have been feeling a bit left out by my friends. Sometimes I feel like I'm the third wheel when I hang out with them. It feels to me like I have to force them to hang out with me. Anyone whose reading this is probably thinking "well you need to let them "friends" go" but, I love my friends. I wasn't the most popular kid growing up, I was very shy and because of that I didn't have a social life. So now that I do have people I can call on and visa verse, it's hard for me to let them go(sadface). I just wish people would realize how much they meant to me and showed me that same love in return.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663300;"&gt;    I think I just need a change of setting. I really wanted to move to DC this coming spring but, that doesn't seem like its gonna happen. If this job thing works out I'm def. gonna move by the fall. I've been in Syracuse for almost 3 years now, I can't take it for much longer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663300;"&gt;   I'm also single, which is okay with me. I'm not really looking for a relationship right now, maybe some company every now and then but, nothing other than that. However, there is this guy that I call my "doodle bug" that I think would be a great match with me but, he lives in New Orleans...or Michigan...I don't remember. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#663300;"&gt;That's about all I have to say for right now...I'm going to try to update this thing more...but you know how that be!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-2113864824525398855?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/2113864824525398855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=2113864824525398855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2113864824525398855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2113864824525398855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2011/02/current-mood-i-dont-even-know.html' title='Current Mood: I don&apos;t even know!'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-58998714127533968</id><published>2010-12-21T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T12:01:46.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mascara stained tears.</title><content type='html'>I sit in my bed with mascara stained tears, as the music drums in the background, vibing, singing with so much emotions the words are barely audible, but the hurt is undeniable. Mascara stained tears that flow with no hesitation, as I bob my head and throw my hands in the air to Mary's "I can Love you..." but whose lovin me? Mascara stained tears fall as I reflect on the words that went without a response, the empty inbox, the desperate plea all are a part of my anguish. Mascara stained tear soaked pillow cases across my bed reveal the secrets of my night. Deep sighs, rolled eyes, psychological lies run through my mind. And on my face, mascara stained tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-58998714127533968?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/58998714127533968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=58998714127533968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/58998714127533968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/58998714127533968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2010/12/mascara-stained-tears.html' title='Mascara stained tears.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-1234921068234925821</id><published>2009-05-30T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T10:32:43.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;So I woke up with him lying next to me today...He and I were both nude under different blankets, close but so far apart. We broke up a week ago, we've managed to keep a pretty active sex life when we aren't arguing. It hurts, so much because I'm fighting a losing battle. I try to stay optimistic, and I try to show him how much I care for him but, none of that seems to be relevant to him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-1234921068234925821?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/1234921068234925821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=1234921068234925821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/1234921068234925821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/1234921068234925821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2009/05/today.html' title='Today...'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-8631318394527173800</id><published>2009-04-28T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T18:05:42.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993300;"&gt;*Giggles* So it's been a while. I haven't really been busy, just occupied. That guy and I that I blogged about before are still together and we're getting ready to move in together. Which means one of us(me) is moving to a different state. I'm excited, I was scared for a bit but, the closer I get to that date(May 8th or the 1st) the more that feeling disappears. About a month ago I had went to Cincinnati and stayed with him for a week. It was the best week ever. We did the usual couple things, went out to eat, movies, walks in the park/woods holding hands, and that other stuff..hehehe...We really meshed that week. We did get into a few lil spats but nothing big. However, since I left we have been having some really big arguments. I just think its out nerves about moving in together that's getting to us. I don't mean to make it sound like out relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993300;"&gt;has been all sunshine and candy canes; it hasn't been. It's been really tough these past few weeks, there's been tears and name calling, hurtful sarcasm, phones being hung-up in someones face. But in the long run it's going to be worth it; what doesn't kill us will only make us stronger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993300;"&gt;So umm yea, I've never been a strong finisher so...bye!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-8631318394527173800?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/8631318394527173800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=8631318394527173800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8631318394527173800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8631318394527173800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2009/04/giggles-so-its-be-while.html' title=''/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-2085057830015884785</id><published>2009-01-23T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:47:59.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in a dream world.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;So I'm finally in a good place. I'm talking to someone who I really care for, deeply. I've actually blogged about him before, so this is some what of a fairy tale for me. The crappy part is were in two different states. lol, which is no surprise to some of my close friends. They know how hard it is for me to find someone that I'm actually interested in here in my hometown.&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. He's different though, cliche I know, he makes me happy from miles away.&lt;br /&gt;When I go to bed, I don't feel lonely, regardless of the fact that I am alone. In the post before this one I spoke a little about how I'm always playing the hero in my past relationships. This time he's my hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's there when I need him to be. And although we have had a few arguments, well not really arguments; they were more misinterpretations; misunderstandings if you will, the connection we feel for each other never fades or yields.&lt;br /&gt;I almost forgot how to feel like that for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how we almost fit together. Like two pieces of a puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;He's what I want to be and more. He's smart, he's good looking, he's confident,&lt;br /&gt;modest, sensitive(which he denies being) yet tough. He's my superman.&lt;br /&gt;Yup...So I'm happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-2085057830015884785?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/2085057830015884785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=2085057830015884785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2085057830015884785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2085057830015884785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-in-dream-world.html' title='I&apos;m in a dream world.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-4547038728091064256</id><published>2009-01-01T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T15:15:29.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's twenty09! New years resolutions anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;It's 2009 and I'm so relieved. 2008 was a really shitty year for me but, I'm not gonna dwell on those things any longer. Now, for the list!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dherek's&lt;/span&gt;, 2009 to do list!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;I really want to get in better shape this year, I have a nice body and all but, when it comes to my endurance and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;flexibility&lt;/span&gt;, I can use a lot of work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;I want to find a little more happiness within myself part of that is coming to terms with issues I'm dealing with in my personal life(more on that later).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Lately I've realized that I've been playing the "hero" role in all of my relationship. I meet a guy who has been in a really bad relationship in the past and has given up on love, I'd woo them they'd fall for me and I'd end up getting hurt because of all their insecurities there ex left them to deal with. That cycle has to stop this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;And lastly, I'm going to stop trying to fix all of my friend's problems. I have a bad habit of trying to fix everyone, it's caused by my many years(2) of being a psych major. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;So that's my list of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;resolutions&lt;/span&gt;, I'm really hoping I can stick with them. I've never been one to make any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;resolutions&lt;/span&gt;, I always felt like that was something older people did, I guess this will be fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-4547038728091064256?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/4547038728091064256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=4547038728091064256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4547038728091064256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4547038728091064256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-twenty09-new-years-resolutions.html' title='It&apos;s twenty09! New years resolutions anyone?'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-8997789859659217929</id><published>2008-12-30T13:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T14:11:49.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends, ones we can depend on!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I felt like introducing you to the only friends I really have in this wretched city I live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Ladies first...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqSOKh5rKI/AAAAAAAAADU/ZzbAYMb4oac/s1600-h/cari1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285697884715068578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqSOKh5rKI/AAAAAAAAADU/ZzbAYMb4oac/s320/cari1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;This is my wifey Cari. Cari and I were in this musical we both did my senior year of high school, starring me of course, Cari is the only girl who I allow to get me together on a regular basis. We decided to get married when I go straight in about fifthteen years. Cause who wants to be old and gay???? lol. Right now she's studying at some big design school in Chicago with plans to transfer to Syracuse University on a perfermance arts scholarship she won.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Then there's Ryan aka Ken Kardashian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqTB3YQ8pI/AAAAAAAAADc/Jv5SlbiSOWc/s1600-h/ryan.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285698772927574674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqTB3YQ8pI/AAAAAAAAADc/Jv5SlbiSOWc/s320/ryan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I love Ryan like a brother. We meet about a year ago, and every since then we've be unstoppable! lol. Ryan aka Ken is besides him being such a blonde, he's the most like me out of all my friends. Its often rumored that were together, not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Mr. Kiry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqY1BguTGI/AAAAAAAAADs/eloSQ-W1lf8/s1600-h/Kiry.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285705149378874466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqY1BguTGI/AAAAAAAAADs/eloSQ-W1lf8/s320/Kiry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Kiry and I have known each other for a couple of years but, until recently I didn't really consider him a friend. He's a good kid, he always seems to have bad break-ups though. Umm, the only thing I can really say about Kiry is he's one of only people here that can dress. For someone who has lived here all of his life, his style falls outside of the typical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;And then there's my "trade" best friend Joe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqVO0ORKmI/AAAAAAAAADk/WxYUYEiiSAo/s1600-h/Joe.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285701194441894498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqVO0ORKmI/AAAAAAAAADk/WxYUYEiiSAo/s320/Joe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;This picture makes me laugh....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;To the untrained eye he gives "boy" and for the most part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;he is but, Joe is a cunt lol j/k. He gives the boys what they want I guess. I tell him this all the time but, I don't see it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;lol Joe and I have been friends since 9th grade when we failed Mr. Rotondo's Math class, I mean everyone else was doing it. That's seven years though. He's the one friend I know I can always count on no matter what. I've told my deepest darkest secrets, and someone tells me his lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I have other friends here but, none that have been consistant as these four. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Next time I'll do the national friends list! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-8997789859659217929?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/8997789859659217929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=8997789859659217929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8997789859659217929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8997789859659217929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/12/friends-ones-we-can-depend-on.html' title='Friends, ones we can depend on!'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SVqSOKh5rKI/AAAAAAAAADU/ZzbAYMb4oac/s72-c/cari1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-4242200507863233269</id><published>2008-12-30T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T12:45:16.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas sucks! Random thinkings...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;So Christmas was a few days ago, some friends and I went out to eat Christmas night due to the club we wanted to go to being closed. I had a date Christmas Eve which was really nice. I paid for the whole date but, it was my pleasure doing so. I picked him up from work and we went to the movies and to Denny's. I know, we tried to go to Applebee's but it was Christmas Eve and everything was closed, we had a good time and that's all that matters right?&lt;br /&gt;If you've read my blog before you'd know I'm doing this celibacy thing and have been for the past 7, going on 8, months. So needles to say, I didn't get any Christmas "nookie" lol. Which I honestly think sucks! I mean I'm a good guy, I treat people with respect, I work, I go to school, I think I'm attractive and not to many people have disagreed. So why haven't I been able to find what I'm looking for.&lt;br /&gt;I've been told I need to stop looking, and I stopped for awhile but, the expectation of someone just falling on my laps is ridiculous! I'm gay and gay guys don't just grow on gay trees, especially the good ones. *Checks BGC* Sigh...I'm about a week and a half away from giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize something just now, almost all my post are about me being lonely...Wow...But it honestly consumes my every waking moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the holiday's and I should be cheerful, but I have no one to cheer for. Sometimes I think life would be easier if I were straight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive this post, it's not really focused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-4242200507863233269?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/4242200507863233269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=4242200507863233269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4242200507863233269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4242200507863233269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-sucks-random-thinkings.html' title='Christmas sucks! Random thinkings...'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-194108047835905225</id><published>2008-12-18T09:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T09:53:06.597-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wanting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Distance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heart-ache'/><title type='text'>*Loudly Sighs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;So, I've been sort of busy these past few weeks. I started working at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart, been doing the school thing, and between those two I've really haven't had time for much else. I kind of have this situation though, there's this guy, who I've been talking to for a while now, just as friends, but I've gotten really close to him. I'm kind of infatuated with him at his point. I wake up and he's the first person I think about, he's the last person I text before I go to bed. The thing is, he lives hundreds of miles away(this is where I sigh). I've done the long distant relationship before, and it was cool and all, but I want something more. And, its not about the sex, at this point in my life, that's not what I want...for the most part. I mean it's been 7 months, a good piece would be nice...Okay it is about the sex, but not like what you think. I can't really explain it, but I want to have contact with someone. I long for it, I dream about it, I lust after it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I mean, that's not all I want from him. When I think about him it's not in a sexual way. I see us cuddled up watching a movie together, or in the club dancing together. At the park or whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;But why him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;He's different, he's honest for one thing, he has told me things that most people would have just took to the grave with them. I feel like his diary sometimes. Which I love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;He's been through a lot over the years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I'm not 100% sure how he feels about me at this point. Which is mostly why I haven't opened up and told him about my feelings. I don't want to jeopardize the relationship we have right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;I'll be 21 in a few months, and I haven't been able to sustain a relationship for more then a few months. Its not suppose to be that way, there never planned to end shortly. I see myself together with them for always. That's what I see for him. Yet, that's not what happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;So I'm just gonna let the cards land where they may...I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; how the saying goes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#996633;"&gt;Til we meet again...sigh...Dherek.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-194108047835905225?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/194108047835905225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=194108047835905225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/194108047835905225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/194108047835905225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-ive-been-sort-of-busy-these-past-few.html' title='*Loudly Sighs.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-3759927842688756269</id><published>2008-12-18T09:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T09:10:10.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obamas choice of evangelical pastor draws ire
    </title><content type='html'>Read article: &lt;a href="http://my.freeze.com/StoryHandler.aspx?category=44&amp;story=199899&amp;source=1003&amp;storytitle=Obamas+choice+of+evangelical+pastor+draws+ire%0a++++"&gt;Obamas choice of evangelical pastor draws ire&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-3759927842688756269?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/3759927842688756269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=3759927842688756269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/3759927842688756269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/3759927842688756269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/12/obamas-choice-of-evangelical-pastor.html' title='Obamas choice of evangelical pastor draws ire&#xA;    '/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-6849872598988441288</id><published>2008-11-17T07:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T07:40:34.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate Crimes...RIP Moses AKA Teish</title><content type='html'>This past weekend an acquaintance of mine was killed. The story is below, but sources tell me other things happened prior to this killing. It really just brings back a lot of crazy things that I've been trying to get over for the past year. I'm not really in the mood to blog right now, but I'll be updating this soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Story: (Half of it anyway)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.syracuse.com/news/index.ssf/2008/11/syracuse_man_was_killed_for_be.html"&gt;http://www.syracuse.com/news/index.ssf/2008/11/syracuse_man_was_killed_for_be.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-6849872598988441288?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/6849872598988441288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=6849872598988441288' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/6849872598988441288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/6849872598988441288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-past-weekend-acquaintance-of-mine.html' title='Hate Crimes...RIP Moses AKA Teish'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-5801161416671878433</id><published>2008-11-04T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:36:17.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cliche...or not.</title><content type='html'>Okay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;toady's&lt;/span&gt; election day, and of course I voted! Yes, it was my first time voting and it didn't hit to a few minutes ago, but it feels really good. This makes me want kids so I can tell my grandchildren what I did. That is assuming Obama wins.  I wrote a couple of weeks ago about this whole political thing, I never published what I wrote. But I'll speak on it a little right now. I'm not the sharpest knife in the box when it comes to politics. I'm not 100% sure who stands for what, but I know who has my interest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;more so&lt;/span&gt; in mind. Its not really my fault that I'm not that savvy when it comes to politics, It just wasn't an interest of my parents, therefore it was never talked about. In my adult life, all two years,  I have tried to gain some knowledge in politics. I feel this is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;responsible&lt;/span&gt; thing to do since I will certainly be exercising my right.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just excited, this is historical whether or not Obama wins. My first ever presidential vote was for a man of color...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; all I feel like talking about right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-5801161416671878433?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/5801161416671878433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=5801161416671878433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5801161416671878433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5801161416671878433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/11/clicheor-not.html' title='Cliche...or not.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-6884694165114491440</id><published>2008-10-29T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T14:39:13.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smiles and rainclouds.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#663333;"&gt;I'm not sure what the truth is anymore. I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad, tired or energized, lonely or content. I've gotten to a place where my mood is relatively stagnant. The high of my day is probably some random video on YouTube, or some shade thrown in the forums on bgc (sigh). But I'm not sad, I love who I am. I'm a beautiful person, both inside and out. I'm very open with people, I'm trusting and trustworthy I know my worth blah blah blah. It's just I'm ready to give that to someone, I'm ready to meet that person, that man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sorta feel like I've found him. He's someone I've known for a little while. We became friends when my ex and I were going through our little drama. He's always been a good supportive friend. The gagger this time is he's the one who's actually pursuing me. It's kind of weird, because I'm not use to that. Well, I'm not use to being pursued by someone I'm actually attracted to. It's new, It makes me giggle, I feel my cunt with this one. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aww, that put a smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I just realized I have something to wake up for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Omg I haven't "touched" myself in two days. I must be sick....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-6884694165114491440?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/6884694165114491440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=6884694165114491440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/6884694165114491440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/6884694165114491440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/10/smiles-and-rainclouds.html' title='Smiles and rainclouds.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-8899507536587582388</id><published>2008-10-27T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:44:11.761-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celibacy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Size0'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boredom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ugh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motivation'/><title type='text'>Can I borrow some motivation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#996633;"&gt;What is going on with me lately? I just haven't really been motivated to do anything. It's getting to the point where I have to force myself out of bed in the morning to go to school. Its really sad for me to say this, but I feel like if I had someone to wake up to, it wouldn't be so difficult. My interest have been "sparked" a few times by a few individuals this past week. I promised myself I wouldn't pursue any of them though. I'm trying to get myself out of the habit of chasing everything I see. One of my finer qualities I believe, but it hasn't always(never) worked out for me in the dating arena. Celibacy is a bitch btw, thanks for asking.&lt;br /&gt;About a month or so ago, I decided to grow my hair out. Right now its really curly and cute. I actually got a compliment on it today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, lets see what else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past two days all I've been eating is trail mix(monster mix of course) and water. I'm definitely eating a big breakfast tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, I have no life. Honestly guys, I sit at this computer all damn day.&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm off to go get my "one a day" in and hit the sack. lmao, laters!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-8899507536587582388?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/8899507536587582388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=8899507536587582388' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8899507536587582388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8899507536587582388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/10/can-i-borrow-some-motivation.html' title='Can I borrow some motivation?'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-736955238303608029</id><published>2008-10-23T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T11:46:12.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;        Have you ever gotten to a place that was so deeply hidden that you didn't know who you were anymore? These past 5 months have been really hard on my mentality. I've been dealing with some betrayal, a little confusion. Some heartbreak, and anger. I use to be so full of life and energy. I use to want to dance endlessly, now you'd be lucky to even see me at a club or party. I want to regain my zeal for life, but how do I do that? How do I pick up where I left off, If I can't even remember where that was? It's time I do some deep soul searching, but I am deadly afraid of what I might find.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-736955238303608029?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/736955238303608029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=736955238303608029' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/736955238303608029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/736955238303608029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/10/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-524506691410859599</id><published>2008-10-22T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:20:54.257-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celibacy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness.'/><title type='text'>Sex...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#996633;"&gt;...Is non-existent in the life of me. I haven't had a good piece in 5 and a half months. Thank baby Jesus for Internet porn lol. I guess I'm being celibate, I don't really like it but I appreciate it for what it is. My town just doesn't have the quality of men I'm looking for. I'm constantly being bombarded with guys who wanna hook up, and that's just not an interest of mine any longer. I'm growing surprisingly. Many people are surprised to find out that I was actually a virgin until I was 19 years old; and since then I've done somethings, and some people, that I'm not that proud of. But the thing that bothers me the most is how I let relationships and sex take over my thoughts. I've gotten to a point where I thought to truly and fully be happy I needed someone next to me in my bed. Its been hard to get back into the mind-frame of being happy with myself completely. Its been my journey these days. But I'm making strides.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-524506691410859599?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/524506691410859599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=524506691410859599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/524506691410859599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/524506691410859599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/10/sex.html' title='Sex...'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-8696999372648724937</id><published>2008-09-18T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T17:31:09.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh yeah, this thing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I've been away for awhile. I'm just not in the writing mood I guess. But I'll indulge. Okay so about a week ago I heard an ad on the radio for this community college here in town. I was bored so I said what the hell, I'm going to go register. So I did all that good stuff, got in, of course, and decided I wanted to change my major. So I am now a medical assisting major. That's basically a bunch of crap for nursing major. I'm just doing a semester here because I don't want to be a lame, sitting around the house doing nothing with my life (explanation on why that would be below). blah blah blah. I've been thinking about doing the medical thing for a while now. I've always did well in health classes. I generally love taking care of people. Plus I think there's a lot of things a person can take outta being a nurse. The only thing is I'm not sure what type of nurse I want to be exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like posting any pictures. so just use your imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;script src="http://shots.snap.com//client/inject.js?site_name=0" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://shots.snap.com//client/inject.js?site_name=0" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://shots.snap.com//client/inject.js?site_name=0" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-8696999372648724937?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/8696999372648724937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=8696999372648724937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8696999372648724937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8696999372648724937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-yeah-this-thing.html' title='Oh yeah, this thing.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-4357651793348630987</id><published>2008-08-26T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T10:19:04.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotions</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I lost someone very special to me. I know my flaws, i really do. I feel like nothing now. I'm the biggest flirt I know. and its not that I want these guys. I just find something nice to say about everyone. I always made you feel wanted right? But I didn't get that from you. It was like you were just going through the emotions. You were so cold sometimes. I feel alone.  All I want is to feel wanted, and loved, and appreciated. Pick up the phone and call me, text me whatever! Just let me know you care. You were the first person I thought about when I woke up, and the last person I thought about when I went to sleep. Hopeless.  Didn't I love you enough? wasn't my touch soft enough? I want to be angry with you. I know its weird, but how else do you mend a broken heart? How do you let go of those feelings of hopefullness for a better tomorrow with the one I loved. Damnit I Loved you! Why the fuck didn't you love me!? *exhales* Bullshit! if you loved me we would still be together! Why aren't you here? why am I alone? why do i still love you??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-4357651793348630987?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/4357651793348630987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=4357651793348630987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4357651793348630987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4357651793348630987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/emotions_26.html' title='Emotions'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-7677150477965622795</id><published>2008-08-24T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T09:50:17.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaky wounds.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;Okay so last night my boyfriend and I finally decided to call it quits. Our relationship had been on the rocks for quite some time. We weren't communicating to each other like we should have been. My issue was he had no trust for me, boyfriends from his past caused him to have walls up when it came towards building a new relationship with someone, and me being who I am, this all around nice guy who takes time out to  make everyone feel good, made it even more difficult for him to trust me. So I'll take my blame in us ending. Even though it was I who gave the ultimatum, us ending was not what I wanted. I loved him with every part of me that I could, it just wasn't enough for him I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-7677150477965622795?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/7677150477965622795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=7677150477965622795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/7677150477965622795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/7677150477965622795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/leaky-wounds.html' title='Leaky wounds.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-4934721238389486908</id><published>2008-08-23T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T12:29:05.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>Well I had my surgery the other day, and after spending two days in the hospital i'm finally home. I can't say its a relief though, not yet, something happened during my hospital stay. It was something that was suppose to work out for my better, hopefully it still will. its just going to take a lot of prayer , and a lot more patience. I haven't really been saying much about my surgery, I had a large bone cyst in my humerus bone. This was the second surgery on my arm this summer, my third surgery of the summer, I have a 6" scar down the front of my arm now. yeah it sucks, so forgive my writing style at this moment, i know its kind of messy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-4934721238389486908?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/4934721238389486908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=4934721238389486908' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4934721238389486908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4934721238389486908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-5119409704688833295</id><published>2008-08-20T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T15:01:23.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Today... I feel kind of...lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;You know that lonely you feel when you think of someone you really like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Yeah, that kind of lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;The lonely you know would go away if they would just look your way. "Hey..." you would say, "...how are you?", they would look you in your eyes and say "i'm better now". LOL you would do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Writing this makes me lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;"Lonelyyy, Mister lonelyyyyy, I have no bodyyyy..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Is the song that plays in my head. Almost like my mind is saying. Ah Ha, youuu suck! :P.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Its not everyday I feel this way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;I swear its not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Just when he's not around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;..Hey..here he comes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;......."Hey"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;......."Hey"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;......."How are you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;......." I'm cool"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;...."Cool"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;.......there he goes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;*exhales*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#663300;"&gt;Lonely... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-5119409704688833295?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/5119409704688833295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=5119409704688833295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5119409704688833295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5119409704688833295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/today.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-8579017010245529887</id><published>2008-08-20T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T09:13:09.289-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul mates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>A Loving Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKxCDap9-DI/AAAAAAAAACo/HrvkSi0nM_0/s1600-h/soulmate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236633093187434546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKxCDap9-DI/AAAAAAAAACo/HrvkSi0nM_0/s320/soulmate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Today I had to get an ultra-sound done, and then I had to go to the hospital to go get some pre-testing done for a surgery I'm having tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Last night I told my friend I had a crush on him, lets just say it didn't go as well as i hoped it would. lol. Oh well, I've moved on. But it did cause me to think of a few things, like whether or not I believe in soul mates. Honestly I don't think I do. Don't get me wrong, I believe there's someone for everyone,but the notion that there's a&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; designated&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; someone and only he will bring me eternal happiness, is just silly to me. I believe that if you want something with someone your going to have to work for it. Of course love shouldn't be forced, but I think its more giving then we allow it to be. Idk...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-8579017010245529887?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/8579017010245529887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=8579017010245529887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8579017010245529887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/8579017010245529887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/today-i-had-to-get-ultra-sound-done-and.html' title='A Loving Soul'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKxCDap9-DI/AAAAAAAAACo/HrvkSi0nM_0/s72-c/soulmate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-2015853022936462068</id><published>2008-08-19T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T04:59:18.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School Girl Crush.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Last night I went to a friends house. I kind of been crushing on this friend for a lil while. Its really strange, anyone who knows me will tell you I don't "crush" on dudes, If I like you, you know it. Ugh! when I was sitting on his couch he came out the kitchen with a condom wrapper in his hand, jokingly sayin he must of forgot to clean that one up. It was not cute. He talked about how the guy just gave him oral and thats all they did, but I couldn't help but think how much I wanted that to be me...I know, whore&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-2015853022936462068?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/2015853022936462068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=2015853022936462068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2015853022936462068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/2015853022936462068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/school-girl-crush.html' title='School Girl Crush.'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-4941236477793547622</id><published>2008-08-18T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:14:39.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Man of Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"&gt;Today's Man of Monday is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fonzworth Bentley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fonzworth Bentley, born Derek Watkins, is a hip hop artist, entertainer, and Fashion Designer, best known for being a personal assistant to P. Diddy. He is currently the host of the MTV's reality show &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="From G's to Gents" href="http://www.mtv.com/ontv/dyn/g_to_gents/series.jhtml?sicontent=0&amp;amp;sicreative=2083469620&amp;amp;siclientid=1859&amp;amp;sitrackingid=37549170&amp;amp;kw=SEM/Google/GsToGents/from+gs+to+gents"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"&gt;From G's to Gents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have admired this Man of Monday for quite sometime now.&lt;br /&gt;His style, his demeanor, his looks, ahhh his everything! Girls get&lt;br /&gt;into it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkuzbxNZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Rvge4Oq01lk/s1600-h/fo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235967534526707090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkuzbxNZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Rvge4Oq01lk/s320/fo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkvKQQDOI/AAAAAAAAACY/Jg-Xa00v_xQ/s1600-h/fo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235967540652412130" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkvKQQDOI/AAAAAAAAACY/Jg-Xa00v_xQ/s320/fo1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkveINwOI/AAAAAAAAACg/o_wM6i6Jo3s/s1600-h/fo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235967545987416290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkveINwOI/AAAAAAAAACg/o_wM6i6Jo3s/s320/fo2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendid=66424825"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#810081;"&gt;More...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-4941236477793547622?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/4941236477793547622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=4941236477793547622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4941236477793547622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/4941236477793547622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/man-of-monday.html' title='Man of Monday'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/SKnkuzbxNZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Rvge4Oq01lk/s72-c/fo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2108604405685276967.post-5421157925046518839</id><published>2008-08-16T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T09:34:07.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Introductions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://s520.photobucket.com/albums/w328/voyage2me/?action=view&amp;amp;current=hy-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i520.photobucket.com/albums/w328/voyage2me/hy-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm a 20 year old Junior at Howard University. I'm a Psychology Major, but i've been really considering going into nursing. I usually get along with everyone. I can be quite at times, sometimes I'm a little childish, its a good type of childish tho. I laugh at myself sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I have are really good sense of humor. Love depresses me sometimes. I question my motives at times,&lt;br /&gt;I believe myself to be a very genuine person, I just can be a little selfish when it comes to my wants. I have this unbelievable love towards everyone, I'm kinda Godly in that manner(is that blasphemy?). I'm very blunt when its needed. I stick up for the little guy at all cost. People underestimate me a lot, which is kind of sad I guess. I sometimes have image issues. I get used a lot by my 'friends', I would resent them for it, but deep inside I know it validates me. I don't have the ability to hide or mask my emotions. I very approachable. In my head the world revolves around me. Its kind of like the Truman show, I don't think I'm the only person who feels this way tho. I cry at movies. I want to be friends with everyone, but I don't think everyone wants to be friends with me. I'm not the most popular guy around, I don't have a thousand or so friends on myspace or any other site for that matter, but every person I come into contact with matters to me. Some days it might not seem that way, I do have bad days. I survived a tumor, yay me. I hate it when ppl worry, which is why I tend to carry a lot of heavy heavy issues on my own. I make it tho. Glory to God. OMG I love music! Brandy is my fav, I like Beyonce too, So please no shade Beyonce fans. lol. R&amp;amp;B and Neo-soul are what I mostly get into. I have a pretty good singing voice, I also enjoy acting. I use to be a club person, now i'm pretty much a home body. I sometime can be a porn addict lol, I'm seeing someone about that tho. :D, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2108604405685276967-5421157925046518839?l=mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/feeds/5421157925046518839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2108604405685276967&amp;postID=5421157925046518839' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5421157925046518839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2108604405685276967/posts/default/5421157925046518839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mayfirsttwenty08.blogspot.com/2008/08/begining.html' title='Introductions'/><author><name>Dherek Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06792451333509968103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cSUbFNP4fPo/S-jdqE6lZ7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/mAOgcFcVpNY/S220/oab.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
