<?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-4351351100836219584</id><updated>2012-01-28T15:42:03.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>when the mind is set free</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-2192340283828730728</id><published>2009-04-21T20:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T20:29:44.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>how can people do it ? you know ? go over so many things in life and still go ahead ? it seems like most of the people would do better in just taking a new course, i don't get it. it's weird. i'm lost right now because it doesn't make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at times it just seems like we're meant to move forward, but what happens when you actually have NO idea what to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all i can do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-2192340283828730728?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/2192340283828730728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=2192340283828730728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/2192340283828730728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/2192340283828730728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-can-people-do-it-you-know-go-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-1909135944415689542</id><published>2008-06-22T22:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T23:10:56.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Island</title><content type='html'>Every mind is an island.&lt;br /&gt;Ever heard that? Someone said it once.&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know who, can't even remember where I heard it.&lt;br /&gt;But, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every mind is an island.&lt;br /&gt;Isolated, booming with life.&lt;br /&gt;Connections to so many other places, the ocean vast around it; a plethora of routes to all ends of the world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the true connections are to those around it, those close to it, sharing the same piece of ocean and land... we're all islands somehow, we can connect to anyone, but it's those select few around us that we have a mutualistic-symbiotic relationship with, those are our links.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-1909135944415689542?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/1909135944415689542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=1909135944415689542' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/1909135944415689542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/1909135944415689542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2008/06/island.html' title='An Island'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-679855896817626988</id><published>2007-09-06T17:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T17:23:50.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>State of Mind</title><content type='html'>It's a state of mind I am in.&lt;br /&gt;It must be. It should be.&lt;br /&gt;It's like an ethereal absence I feel.&lt;br /&gt;Where did it all go? What to do now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the leaf drifting endlessly - you the breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a state of mind I am in.&lt;br /&gt;It has to be. It must be.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are stranded.&lt;br /&gt;Where do I look? Where do I go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an empty vase at the entrance of your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What must I do? What has to be done?&lt;br /&gt;My tongue is locked.&lt;br /&gt;This has to be. This must be.&lt;br /&gt;It's a state of mine I am in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the pebble run over with your love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sept. 6, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-679855896817626988?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/679855896817626988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=679855896817626988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/679855896817626988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/679855896817626988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/09/state-of-mind.html' title='State of Mind'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-6351385410758069552</id><published>2007-07-23T16:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T16:05:31.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulterior Motives</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I looked at her lying still besides me. Her chest moved with every breath. Fast  asleep. I can’t sleep. I move a strand of hair from her face; the dark black  curls wrap my fingers. Her milky white skin is inviting me to kiss her. I long  to see her eyes; I wish to immerse myself in them. Even when she spoke I would  be lost in her eyes, lost in the depth of them. Her nakedness did not call me  any longer. I wanted to see her eyes once more. I had stared into them the whole  time. Even as she squirmed and screamed with pleasure, I had only been  captivated by her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I longed for them once more. I wanted them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kissed her mouth and kept my eyes open. I awaited. She smiled and  there they were. Her arms wrapped around me and she pulled me close to her. I  held myself over her. A tiny freckle on her right cheek welcomed me. I knew what  she wanted. I did not dare blink to not miss a moment. I felt myself get lost in  her sky blue eyes. I never blinked. Even as she squirmed and screamed with  pleasure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-6351385410758069552?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/6351385410758069552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=6351385410758069552' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/6351385410758069552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/6351385410758069552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/07/ulterior-motives.html' title='Ulterior Motives'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-8416255614839322791</id><published>2007-07-23T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T14:44:23.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waltz at Window</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I stared at the windowsill. I observed the broken, battered wooden frame of the window. A sparkling diamond seemed to shine from it. I pressed it and rubbed it about; a clean spot in the dusty windowsill. So many years of my life and all I had left was this window. This frame. This dust. This glass. This broken wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt the grooves of wood at my fingertips. I examined it, shifting my empty glance upward. I caught a glimpse at my reflection. The beard stubs mix-matching between pitch black and white. I blink-less stare. A lost expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pushed the window up. I felt a calm, soothing breeze lash against my face. I felt the hair dance in the wind. If only I could feel as it felt. More sparkles spray the air. I felt nothing. The wind waltzed with my hair. I swallowed. I stared at the broken frame and gripped it. My hair danced to and fro. If only I could feel as it felt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-8416255614839322791?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/8416255614839322791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=8416255614839322791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/8416255614839322791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/8416255614839322791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/07/waltz-at-window.html' title='Waltz at Window'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-6860680282567050678</id><published>2007-04-28T22:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T22:29:19.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>existential depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;i can't take this&lt;br /&gt;it brakes, it halts&lt;br /&gt;a constant juggle&lt;br /&gt;tears of ...&lt;br /&gt;are these tears?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why doesn't it ever stop?&lt;br /&gt;a lack of existence, presides&lt;br /&gt;where do i begin?&lt;br /&gt;where do i end?&lt;br /&gt;does it begin? does it end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life as an exposed film&lt;br /&gt;life as a scratched record&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-6860680282567050678?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/6860680282567050678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=6860680282567050678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/6860680282567050678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/6860680282567050678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/04/existential-depression.html' title='existential depression'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-3657712632159222014</id><published>2007-04-08T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T01:58:26.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>q error</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;el error más grande que cometemos es querer que los otros sean como nosotros queremos que sean, no como ellos son de verdad. creemos que nuestros problemas sobrepasan de importancia aquellos problemas de otros. nos enfocamos en nosotros mismos y nos olvidamos de la existencia de otros y de sus problemas. nos olvidamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;... pfft ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nos hacemos de la vista gorda!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que idiotez la de nosotros de seguir viviendo como egoístas. nos decoramos y nos ponemos para que todos nos vean. que vean nuestras labores, nuestras labores TAN generosas. bahhh ¿cómo podemos ser tan generosos si somos tan egoístas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la perfección no existe. solamente podemos buscar la perfección dentro de la imperfección.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que error que todos cometemos o, por lo menos, hemos cometido... que cuando nos damos cuenta de lo que hemos hecho ya es tan tarde. que error. que idiotez la de nosotros!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;inspired by "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;El Lado Oscuro del Corazón&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-3657712632159222014?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/3657712632159222014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=3657712632159222014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/3657712632159222014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/3657712632159222014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/04/q-error.html' title='q error'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-9153148657147819745</id><published>2007-04-05T12:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T13:20:02.626-05:00</updated><title type='text'>u'd never understand</title><content type='html'>what is it with this crude, material world in which we live in? why must it all be a material gain! everything has to be named, separated, tagged, measured, and announced! why must our achievements be visible and tangible? no! i speak of a higher level of achievement, a feat that elevates us to the spiritual realm. i seek an conquest of the mind, of the heart, of the spirit. that which i seek cannot be seen with your materialistic eyes, cannot be felt with your brute hands, or devoured with your glutton mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-9153148657147819745?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/9153148657147819745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=9153148657147819745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/9153148657147819745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/9153148657147819745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/04/ud-never-understand.html' title='u&apos;d never understand'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-4514231628783630822</id><published>2007-03-27T19:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T19:08:10.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>search for a truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;we search for a truth that we know not exists, even if we were to see it, to grasp it in our own hands, we would not know it. such fear i feel that we might have stumbled upon this truth, this treasure, this secret and have dismissed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would man be ready for it?&lt;br /&gt;could we assimilate such a thing?&lt;br /&gt;would it change us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God! imagine having found it and not being able to tell it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... this truth ...&lt;br /&gt;if it were to exist, maybe it'd best be kept untold&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-4514231628783630822?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/4514231628783630822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=4514231628783630822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/4514231628783630822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/4514231628783630822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/03/search-for-truth.html' title='search for a truth'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-7384955812987554646</id><published>2007-03-20T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T14:53:45.144-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what is what isn't</title><content type='html'>how to differentiate what is and what isn't.&lt;br /&gt;to know what will engulf us with warmth&lt;br /&gt;or what shall pierce through us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a bad choice could lead to conditioning of the mind,&lt;br /&gt;a conditioning which leads to&lt;br /&gt;fear, anger, and constant jealousy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can i know what is and what isn't,&lt;br /&gt;an imaginary blindfold holds me euphoric&lt;br /&gt;while the world crumbles around me&lt;br /&gt;a warm shroud covers me and i'm fooled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can one know what is and what isn't?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-7384955812987554646?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/7384955812987554646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=7384955812987554646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/7384955812987554646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/7384955812987554646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-is-what-isnt.html' title='what is what isn&apos;t'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-876060717124407239</id><published>2007-03-19T17:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T21:59:22.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to abdicate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;i give up!&lt;br /&gt;i relinquish all of me,&lt;br /&gt;i give in to your soul.&lt;br /&gt;i waive my heart to you&lt;br /&gt;and yield all my emotions with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! to surrender to another kiss,&lt;br /&gt;to another embrace.&lt;br /&gt;who wouldn't renounce themselves for it?&lt;br /&gt;i give up a thousand times over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4351351100836219584-876060717124407239?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/876060717124407239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=876060717124407239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/876060717124407239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/876060717124407239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-abdicate.html' title='to abdicate'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4351351100836219584.post-3944642081715117469</id><published>2007-03-19T17:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T21:58:57.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>breathe love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A locket of brown golden curls, entwined in my stone grip. The brushing of my lips against your plush skin. The journey upwards towards your succulent mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I breathe love for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The emptiness of the sound. The roar of the silence. An absence of plight. There are no puzzles in my life, as I lay beside you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I breathe love for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A gentle squeeze, significant to my embrace. A simple thought crossing the neurons of my brain - “You are at home here.” I need no more, but you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I breathe love for you.&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/4351351100836219584-3944642081715117469?l=yorchrambles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/feeds/3944642081715117469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4351351100836219584&amp;postID=3944642081715117469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/3944642081715117469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4351351100836219584/posts/default/3944642081715117469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yorchrambles.blogspot.com/2007/03/breathe-love.html' title='breathe love'/><author><name>Teacher George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12220852035298650866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v232/ElGeorge/enlaguagua.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
