<?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-6948795217787442754</id><updated>2012-01-21T09:53:55.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mach 1 Was Nothing...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2841983743927302394</id><published>2011-04-03T23:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T23:34:47.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Anatomy of Broken Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Blood in my veins and tears in my eyes,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;I guess I'm still living, if sense still applies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Hair covers my head, and skin covers sinew,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;But my hands won't stop shaking and I can't stop you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;You'll leave regardless...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Regardless of me and my repenting demeanor,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Regardless of times when our hearts were much keener.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;The exquisite snap of a word said in haste&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;like the crack of a slap from my hand on your face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Gone are the days when my words were like kisses,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;now they're as sharp as a knife in your fist is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Suddenly, careless words fall into a line&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;That you'll stay to your side of and I'll keep to mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2841983743927302394?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2841983743927302394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2841983743927302394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2841983743927302394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2841983743927302394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2011/04/anatomy-of-broken-things.html' title='The Anatomy of Broken Things'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2390831970622596127</id><published>2010-11-04T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T05:23:00.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ascend</title><content type='html'>I will never cease to follow.&lt;br /&gt;While my own world crumbles at the sides, and the road falls away behind me, I will run toward you and not look back.&lt;br /&gt;There is a world of Horrors at my heels, but your hand pulls me along and out of their grasp, but not so far that I'll forget that you save me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will put my trust in you,&lt;br /&gt;Your power is enough to cause the rocks and mountains to sing, &amp;nbsp;and you're worthy of every note and more...&lt;br /&gt;The songs that flow from our pens and the pages we fill with words are so limited in relation to how beautiful you really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father, I will trust you.&lt;br /&gt;Though the world &amp;nbsp;around me screams for my attention, I will place you before me forever.&lt;br /&gt;Make me pure, my God, and cleanse my heart and my motives.&lt;br /&gt;Renew my mind and clean my lips.&lt;br /&gt;Show me your beauty, and my eyes will glow like fire.&lt;br /&gt;The intensity of your presence will kill the death in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me a new name, and I'll let go of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2390831970622596127?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2390831970622596127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2390831970622596127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2390831970622596127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2390831970622596127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/11/ascend.html' title='Ascend'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-4220667043740911297</id><published>2010-11-03T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T10:49:57.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fall</title><content type='html'>"Wretched Thing..." I say to her&lt;br /&gt;She can't be me, but my hands on my face mirror hers.&lt;br /&gt;My face in the mirror is unrecognizable, my lips dripping with blood and cuts, mud smeared into the open scratches on my face.&lt;br /&gt;I throw water in my eyes, and push my face under the tap to wash away that reflection&lt;br /&gt;I scrub at my skin, thinking the more soap I use, the warmer the water, the more forcefully I wash, the easier it will be to forget the things I've done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I never meant to fight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I never meant to fall.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't start out trying to become this thing that I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;But this mind of mine, the tongue in my head...&lt;br /&gt;it breaks bones and shatters skulls.&lt;br /&gt;It sends me to my grave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My actions and my every word reek of death.&lt;br /&gt;I cry and scream of beauty,&lt;br /&gt;but the words become just swears and sin as soon as they've been said&lt;br /&gt;There is no breath or heart to beat inside my empty chest.&lt;br /&gt;I press my face to the reflection and as I do she says&lt;br /&gt;"How can you say you're living when your heart's weighed down with lead?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-4220667043740911297?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/4220667043740911297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=4220667043740911297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/4220667043740911297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/4220667043740911297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/11/fall.html' title='The Fall'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-7583208103826262083</id><published>2010-07-31T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T21:24:11.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not going to be super poetic this month: It's good to see your face again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-7583208103826262083?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/7583208103826262083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=7583208103826262083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7583208103826262083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7583208103826262083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-not-going-to-be-super-poetic-this.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-532245523710357203</id><published>2010-06-29T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T23:51:34.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Love</title><content type='html'>Look down at my hands, see the spots where dirt accumulates in the space under my nails.&lt;br /&gt;this wasn't something I wanted to be, lower than a worm and of less importance.&lt;br /&gt;It's the futile things I fill my arms with, and unimportant whims that consume me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm blind to all that is holy, and the road to sin is all too clear.&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Was I born for this life of uselessness?!&lt;br /&gt;I dream of much more than my selfishness&lt;br /&gt;I want to give you everything but my empty promises,&lt;br /&gt;but I hold my best back, push you away&lt;br /&gt;Hold on to my lack, and hide from the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes you wait for me?&lt;br /&gt;What is it in me that you see so worth keeping?&lt;br /&gt;How when I've hurt you so much, do you still love me?&lt;br /&gt;Do you still love me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I still think I can fool you,&lt;br /&gt;somehow I can hide my sin from your view,&lt;br /&gt;And spend all my days in the worst things I could do&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;try to clean up the outside, and keep the mud in &lt;br /&gt;make attempts to look holy, while wrapped up in sin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes you wait for me?&lt;br /&gt;What is it in me that you see so worth keeping?&lt;br /&gt;How when I've hurt you so much, do you still  love me?&lt;br /&gt;Do you still love me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A thousand times over, I've killed you&lt;br /&gt;A thousand times over,You've cried all your tears out for me&lt;br /&gt;After everything I put you through &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving, you died for me&lt;br /&gt;You saw the part of me, so deep, that's worth keeping&lt;br /&gt;And even as I nailed you to the cross, you still loved me.&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, you still love me.&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, you love me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-532245523710357203?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/532245523710357203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=532245523710357203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/532245523710357203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/532245523710357203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/06/still-love.html' title='Still Love'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5154593691676278092</id><published>2010-05-31T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T19:39:23.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I cried myself to sleep, aching for your voice to finally hit my ears, or  to bounce off the sides of my skull, So lost in the brokenness of a late hour and the future closing in.&lt;br /&gt;They say that emptiness is where you find your way in, and if that's the case, my spirit is an open door.&lt;br /&gt;I've been falling for days and I haven't hit the ground but I can see it looming just beyond my outspread fingers.&lt;br /&gt;Pull me back and pull me up into your arms again.&lt;br /&gt;because I can't bear the pain of impact.&lt;br /&gt;Father, just carry me for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5154593691676278092?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5154593691676278092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5154593691676278092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5154593691676278092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5154593691676278092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-cried-myself-to-sleep-aching-for-your.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-111736986441646415</id><published>2010-04-27T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T20:54:26.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just might regret this.</title><content type='html'>I think I'm afraid of you.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not you, but what you are.&lt;br /&gt;With words like knifes and tendencies like atomic bombs, your kind are fearsome.&lt;br /&gt;I've been hurt time and time again, and I've seen ones like me beaten and bruised by the group you are supposedly a part of.&lt;br /&gt;Please tell me you're different and I don't have to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need hope there are good men in the world.&lt;br /&gt;I need to know you are worth my time.&lt;br /&gt;I need to know I am not completely insane for believing the spark of a thought lit when I met you.&lt;br /&gt;I need to know there are no coincidences and there is a reason for the things that have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People tell me it is blatently obvious.&lt;br /&gt;and i'd Like to say i was better at hiding it than that.&lt;br /&gt;i know i need to get to know You better.&lt;br /&gt;but all the same...&lt;br /&gt;am i a Lunatic for trusting Yesterday's insane visions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-111736986441646415?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/111736986441646415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=111736986441646415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/111736986441646415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/111736986441646415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-just-might-regret-this.html' title='I just might regret this.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5944350218363552569</id><published>2010-03-12T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T19:51:04.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tonight, I'm feeling homesick for a place I've never seen, but for a face I have.&lt;br /&gt;My heart is 1000 miles away, give or take 100.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5944350218363552569?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5944350218363552569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5944350218363552569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5944350218363552569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5944350218363552569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/03/tonight-im-feeling-homesick-for-place.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5443713919707957778</id><published>2010-02-13T06:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T06:37:06.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>Oh dear God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its happened again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another night, spent sitting up and searching for words I really can't find, written out and set to music.&lt;br /&gt;Should I write a song for this? Or should I try to fight it off and push it down again, so I can get by without my yearly dose of proximity to one. certain. person?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm already there.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've been there for a while and I just haven't been paying attention. &lt;br /&gt;Either way, I can't seem to fight it back anymore.&lt;br /&gt;It seems like every time I open my mouth, his name and that memory are ready to fly out, looking for someone to tell me they are possible and I might not be imagining the words in my ears.&lt;br /&gt;I've been crushed by unrealistic "love" before, and I know this might fall into that category in some minds...&lt;br /&gt;But I can't get past the promise You made, I can't unhear Your voice or unread the words that said &lt;i&gt;I know the plans I have for you...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I am just wishful. Maybe I really am just destined for The Everyday.&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5443713919707957778?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5443713919707957778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5443713919707957778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5443713919707957778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5443713919707957778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/02/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2230871329938525426</id><published>2010-01-31T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T07:04:18.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A call to a friend.</title><content type='html'>My friend, I know your chasing heart. &lt;br /&gt;I've been the person chasing solace and running away from the chaos in my own head. I know that. &lt;br /&gt;But sister, these things won't sustain you! No guy, no distance is going to help you.&lt;br /&gt;You can run to any corner of the world, any crevice you can fit into, any escape you can find, but nothing is ever going to help.&lt;br /&gt;There is no life in anything that you can touch, smell, hear or experience. The only thing that is going to kill that ache and help you find peace is to go before the Father.&lt;br /&gt;I can't pretend to understand the situation you're in, but I see in you the things that I felt before he took me in again. He loves you, he misses you, he wants you to be happy and not to hurt yourself! So do I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hermanas, para siempre. Te extraño.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2230871329938525426?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2230871329938525426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2230871329938525426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2230871329938525426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2230871329938525426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/01/call-to-friend.html' title='A call to a friend.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2312870883238692228</id><published>2010-01-29T21:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T21:41:27.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bury It Deeper.</title><content type='html'>Bury it deeper,&lt;br /&gt;because everyone knows that the last thing this world needs is another sob story.&lt;br /&gt;Keep it to yourself. &lt;br /&gt;Everyone around you has their own things to deal with. What makes you think that anyone wants to hear what happened to you?&lt;br /&gt;Be strong, &lt;br /&gt;Only the weak let their guard down and let people in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break out the shovel.&lt;br /&gt;My feeble hands clawed at the ground for way too long.&lt;br /&gt;The bones of my victimized days and hours, the time I've wasted chasing other things and hiding away will lay me down in this hole, hollow and rotten from the heart out.&lt;br /&gt;So here's where the question comes...&lt;br /&gt;Do I lay down and wrap my mistakes close to my body like a shroud?&lt;br /&gt;Do I throw another shovel of dirt on their grave, but go on worrying that someone will come and dig them up?&lt;br /&gt;Or Should I lay them out for the world to see, for the Father to deliver me from, and finally let them die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decisions, decisions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2312870883238692228?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2312870883238692228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2312870883238692228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2312870883238692228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2312870883238692228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2010/01/bury-it-deeper.html' title='Bury It Deeper.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2651151166372032184</id><published>2009-12-16T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T19:17:06.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want love without obligation.&lt;br /&gt;I want love with truth built in, the kind that you can look at a person and honestly love them with all your ability.&lt;br /&gt;I need that. I want to know that there is someone who doesn't love me because of my name, or because I benefit them, or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;That empty love cuts far deeper than any insult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2651151166372032184?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2651151166372032184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2651151166372032184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2651151166372032184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2651151166372032184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-want-love-without-obligation.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8012410751882656659</id><published>2009-12-11T01:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T22:27:47.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I remember the days when the breeze rattled us and the sun shone down, we held on through everything. The days of beauty, with the world below us as we floated together, so far above it all.&lt;br /&gt;But the sun hid away, and the breeze turned into a whirlwind.&lt;br /&gt;And we fell.&lt;br /&gt;We fell like the leaves in the fall after summer, then disintegrated into dust under winter's cold fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm coming apart at the seams, My every insecurity showing, like the rips and tears of a favorite shirt destroyed by years of wear.&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though my tattered threads and  frail stitches are going to be the death of me, and I fear the ending.&lt;br /&gt;I've come to the end of me, and now I can't see anything.&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing you more than I can express, the part of me that is so far away.&lt;br /&gt;I need to be sewn back together.&lt;br /&gt;You'll be the thread to patch me back together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8012410751882656659?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8012410751882656659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8012410751882656659' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8012410751882656659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8012410751882656659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-remember-days-when-breeze-rattled-us.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-7442326665799035058</id><published>2009-11-30T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T12:46:53.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer for Joshua Olds.</title><content type='html'>As most of you SHOULD know, my username comes from a Family Force 5 song. This band has been so important to me, and I have been following them so long I feel like I know them. Their bassist, Josh "Fatty" Olds, has recently come down with some kidney issue. As of last night, they transferred him to another hospital and called in a specialist. Today, there hasn't been much news, which the band is taking as good news. The band is asking for prayer, and I'd like to pass the message along. Here is their original bulletin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey gang,&lt;br /&gt;I'm sending this out with a heavy heart. Please please please lift Josh (Fatty) up in prayer for healing. He was admitted to a hospital last night after the show and today he's been moved to ICU. Doctor's say it's serious. They're calling a kidney specialist in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you pray. BE a PRAYER WARRIOR right now for Josh. Ask your friends from church to lift him up for healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks everyone.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like them, or even if you don't, please keep them and Josh specifically in your prayers. They have just set out on a Christmas tour, and it would be hard for a family at home -let alone a band that is out on tour- to see their brother in pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU,&lt;br /&gt;~gabi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-7442326665799035058?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/7442326665799035058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=7442326665799035058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7442326665799035058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7442326665799035058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/11/prayer-for-joshua-olds.html' title='Prayer for Joshua Olds.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8904340268593919365</id><published>2009-11-22T11:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T15:16:35.567-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We all like to make-believe we're doing our best.&lt;br /&gt;We know we aren't. We just like to think we're playing our part to the best of our ability.&lt;br /&gt;There is always more we can do, More I could do. The question is, are we willing to make the effort? Am I willing to step out and practice the things that I say I believe in, or am I going to settle in?&lt;br /&gt; Honestly, I've failed you.&lt;br /&gt; Honestly, I haven't been trying hard enough.&lt;br /&gt;Now is the time to practice what I preach, and I'm ready to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8904340268593919365?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8904340268593919365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8904340268593919365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8904340268593919365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8904340268593919365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-all-like-to-make-believe-were-doing.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2146130421078228093</id><published>2009-11-14T23:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T23:54:02.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>By Death, I live.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/Sv-zVZX2koI/AAAAAAAAAB0/qiO8jIqFK-U/s1600-h/cb81f4a7969d1a95561aad9400820097.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/Sv-zVZX2koI/AAAAAAAAAB0/qiO8jIqFK-U/s320/cb81f4a7969d1a95561aad9400820097.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404235258037441154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hesitate in saying I am qualified to say that Jesus is God. I have no title. I haven't been to college yet. I live in probably the most spiritually dead area in the US ( not talking about the No on 1/Yes on 1 thing, either). Sure, I grew up in a christian home with 2 pastors in my extended family. But I also go to public school. I am in theater. I am a rocker and somewhat of a rebel. Who do I think that I am?&lt;br /&gt;I don't. Honestly, Everything I am hinges on Christ. Beyond Him, there shouldn't be much left. Everything I do, Everything I say SHOULD be out of the conviction that there was a gory execution with blood and horror that took place to make a better life for me. and for whoever wants it.&lt;br /&gt;You know, the whole world has this screwed-up view of God that  He wants nothing more than to "smite" us for making mistakes. But this is not the reality. The reality of God and his love is that he smote ( that is really a word?!?) his son, a part of himself, in order that we should be freed from our mistakes. God did not come to get ripped up, beaten and murdered just so that he could go back to his cloud and throw lightning bolts. He came to understand us, to live with us and show us  the greatest love there is: someone willing to die to save us from ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;The "end all, be all" of my  life, the call to which I aspire is to live in a way that honors the one who died for me. To wake up screaming " By Death, I live."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2146130421078228093?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2146130421078228093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2146130421078228093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2146130421078228093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2146130421078228093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/11/by-death-i-live.html' title='By Death, I live.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/Sv-zVZX2koI/AAAAAAAAAB0/qiO8jIqFK-U/s72-c/cb81f4a7969d1a95561aad9400820097.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-7455881296337271455</id><published>2009-10-17T12:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T21:29:29.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I sit at the base of the tree and wonder how deep the roots go.&lt;br /&gt;Do they reach deep into the ground, to keep the tree from swaying when the winds beat against the branches?&lt;br /&gt;Or do they skim just below the surface, just praying that a hurricane won't tear them down?&lt;br /&gt;Do the branches reach to the sky in vain, reaching for  the clouds that will turn against them at a moment's notice?&lt;br /&gt;Or do their outstretched arms invite the life-giving rain to fall and run down their leaves and hardened bark to nourish them at the core?&lt;br /&gt;The more I sit here and feel the wind beat against my coat, the more I watch the leaves roll and crackle, I realize my uncertainties are misdirected.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-7455881296337271455?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/7455881296337271455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=7455881296337271455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7455881296337271455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7455881296337271455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-sit-at-base-of-tree-and-wonder-how.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-6115479627408235989</id><published>2009-09-27T05:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T06:13:23.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Actor</title><content type='html'>I wear a white mask&lt;br /&gt;To distract you from my motives. &lt;br /&gt;You see me? You see purity, gentleness and kindness.&lt;br /&gt;But you see, my façade is working.&lt;br /&gt;You and your people buy in to my deception, following me right up to the edge of the cliff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have you all. &lt;br /&gt;All of you have bought in to my spell.&lt;br /&gt;You think my thoughts, the things I speak in whispers drip off your tongue like the booze drips from the bottle.&lt;br /&gt;You've listened to the things I say with rapt attention, worship and expectation.&lt;br /&gt;But you don't understand my goals, you don't see my knife is at your throat.&lt;br /&gt;My only aim is your destruction, but I would never let you see that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the patron of liars. I am the master of disguises&lt;br /&gt;and you and yours can never see, the death that hides&lt;br /&gt;behind my pretty words and gracious gestures.&lt;br /&gt;It's all in the script.&lt;br /&gt;So follow me, I'll lead your way.&lt;br /&gt;No need to look from side to side, no need to choose.&lt;br /&gt;You'll see what I want you to, you'll do what I say.&lt;br /&gt;So give me your heart, your mind, your hands and soul.&lt;br /&gt;And in the end, I'll have it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-6115479627408235989?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/6115479627408235989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=6115479627408235989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6115479627408235989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6115479627408235989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/09/actor.html' title='The Actor'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-6120083716596568752</id><published>2009-09-25T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T17:21:52.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've heard your voice carried on the breeze. &lt;br /&gt;Speaking words to me I never understood,&lt;br /&gt;but thought I did.&lt;br /&gt;I followed behind you, trying to tie all the strings up that you had just gotten off my hands. &lt;br /&gt;I make a habit of undoing whats been done, of throwing myself into the fires that have been stamped out.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow you still decide to take the time to pull me out of them, to free me again.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how you do it, or how I deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;I've said this same thing a million times, and the words always come out the same.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, your words are beginning to make sense to me, or at least I think so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-6120083716596568752?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/6120083716596568752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=6120083716596568752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6120083716596568752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6120083716596568752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-heard-your-voice-carried-on-breeze.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5290136427489849356</id><published>2009-08-03T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:32:10.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grave robbers keep the skeletons in their Closets</title><content type='html'>By Grave Robber, I mean me. The Graverobber thing is a reference to my christianity (borrowed from Mr. Eric Samuel Timm, of course.He'll come into play later.). This is my Testimony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Like a lot of kids who grew up in a christian home and got saved young, I never really felt like I had much to say about God's redemption and how much it means to be saved. I was a sheltered kid, only listened to christian music, only went to christian camps, went to youth group every thursday, church every sunday, went to bed at 9. Basically, I was a "goodie-two-shoes" growing up.&lt;br /&gt;Around 7th grade, I guess people realized that and I wasn't cool. That year was the equivalent of hell on earth, and when my family announced we were moving away that summer, I was excited. 8th grade year, I made new friends and  everything, but I still had a lot of issues, stemming from the bullying and everything.&lt;br /&gt;      When I got to high school, I wanted to do all the things every high schooler wants to do: Pass classes, have fun, get a really popular boyfriend, Make friends with the popular kids. And I did do most of those things, Freshman year was one of the best years so far in my life, great classes, great memories, awesome friends in my grade and in the graduating class. A couple really outlandish crushes that failed to develop into anything later, the good times were insignificant compared to my inferiority and image issues. I had it stuck in my head by the end of sophomore year, to be content with second place and that I wasn't attractive.&lt;br /&gt;      Backtracking a bit, Sophomore year was the year I got my first friend with (albeit limited) benefits/boyfriend. He is genuinely a really fun person and a good friend of mine to this day. Unfortunately, we were just not compatible, we had different goals, and I was a christian and he wasn't, and I wasn't exactly his first choice of girls around. I knew all of this, but I ignored it, thinking it was insignificant. I clamped my eyes shut, plugged my ears and  blocked out every warning signal that something was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;       Somewhere in the time before we actually dated, I found out that he and some of the other important people in my life shared some demons. I then proceeded to ignore them. The bitterness, though, was something I couldn't ignore. I was increasingly lonely and I felt betrayed and desperate for some kind of attention, So I lashed out in anger at my family and cut myself off from my friends. I took the things that stole his attention and love from me personally, and I began to foster this intense burning hatred for them,and a curiosity for what was so special about them. Before long, that curiosity turned into an intention to display my spite for it by doing the same thing in return.&lt;br /&gt;     In the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong and I was really ashamed. I knew, and hid it. I never let anyone know. I hid it all under a veil of Hypocrisy, speaking out against the same thing that I was telling myself was okay because I was only doing it to make the people who had built up offenses against me angry. It made no sense, but then again, not a lot of things I did made any.&lt;br /&gt;     I did things I am not proud of and I tried to make it out to seem like no big deal. But I knew they were. I knew very well that I was falling away from my faith. I had let it slip, and I tried (and still try, when I feel that way) to blame it on other people, but I know it was and is no one else's fault but mine. I was in complete control of everything I did. I  had control and I did extremely stupid things that still haunt me. I had this darkness inside me that had lurked in my peripheral vison. &lt;br /&gt;     I knew I had this potential to become a depressed, screwed up, addicted mess. I knew that the God I had served for the past 10-odd years of my life wouldn't approve of the choices I wanted to make, the choices I was making, and the choices I had made. So I tried to mold him into the kind of God who would. I fought him, I insulted him with the way that I  lived, I hated everyone and everything. I was deceptive and I struggled with  how much I dared to push the limits. I seriously considered cutting, I definitely considered sex, but thankfully let fear keep those thoughts from ever becoming action. &lt;br /&gt;     A year ago, I came back from the event that changed my life forever(corny, but overwhelmingly true), Soulfest 2008. I went to the last 2 days with a feeling of shakiness. I went looking for something, either to find the crack in my faith to stick the dynamite in to destroy it or to find the God I had lost. I needed to get something solid under my feet, and the most solid things in my life were art and music. So I thought, hey let's go with that and see where things go from there.&lt;br /&gt;     The first day I was there was when I started to see things happening. I had known, because I checked beforehand, that a painter who I had admired for a couple years was going to be there. His name is Eric Samuel Timm, and he had a booth and was selling prints and shirts from his clothing line. Looking to pick up some prints, I went to the booth and started flipping through the copied versions of familiar artwork. I found three that I liked and went to cash out, and when I was done, his wife Danielle told me he was up in the art gallery for a reception. I really had no expectation of seeing him or anything, but to see his real paintings would be awesome in and of itself. So I made my way up to the second floor area where the gallery was located.&lt;br /&gt;     I walked in and looked around, and sure enough he was no where to be seen. I went over to his paintings and just stared, dumbfounded that these images I had seen online were real. I leaned in to look at the brushstrokes and someone walked in behind me and said a quick "hey, how are you?". I just continued looking and replied with a non-chalant " Oh, I'm good, just looking at these paintings." Then he replied "Oh, well, I'm Eric. If you have any questions, I'm right here."&lt;br /&gt;      I guess I kind of understated how much I admire this guy. This man is my favorite artist (michaelangelo,davinci,Mucha... Timm is first on my list). I had been waiting for an opportunity to see him paint for 2 years! and now this guy was talking to me?! I pretty much went starstruck from that second on, and asked for an autograph, a photo, a conversation, whatever. I doodled him up a grave robber(one of his company's symbols) to say thanks.&lt;br /&gt;     The next thing I really remember is seeing the band Spoken play. I had heard a few of their songs, but I didn't really know a whole ton about them. At the show, Matt Baird, their lead singer came out to stand on the crowd barrier, just a few feet away from me. From where I was standing, I could see the tattoos on his arms and the ring on his left hand, I could see his mouth forming the words and his face contorting with emotion as he ripped into the screams and sang. Because of the value music had in my life at the time, I was captivated. He sang songs of desperation, and of love, of crawling back to God and of finding hope. He talked about salvation and the love of God, and he sang a song called "the meaning of..." about his wife and son. It resonated with something in my apathetic heart that was still sensitive to how God moves. I wanted that: I wanted a guy that loved God with that intensity,I wanted to be loved with that intensity. I wanted to see how God is jealous for me, and how he pines after me and wants my heart. Instantly I knew that for that to happen I had to free myself up to really love. As ridiculous as it may sound, after that moment, I lost all romantic ties to my then boyfriend. &lt;br /&gt;      The last day of the festival I went to watch Eric paint and heard his teaching on the piece he did, then dropped by Eric's booth. When I went up to say hi, he told me how he was going to try to get in touch with me to buy the drawing I had given him for use in his company. I was insanely giddy, and ran around looking for people I knew to share the good news with. Over the last year, Eric and I have emailed back and forth with the possibility of some other work for NOU, including the design that started with the doodle I gave him back then. He's become somewhat of a mentor for me (whether it is intentional or not remains to be seen) and I find that incredible. 3 or 4 years ago, I was begging to order his merchandise over the internet and now, something I've done might be sold alongside his. These things  don't just randomly happen, and I know that now. It was God trying to get my attention.&lt;br /&gt;    I'm gonna try to end this now, because it is probably gonna kill someone's attention span as it is. I just have so much to say, too many things to talk about. In such a short amount of time, I've realized the liberating love of Christ can be felt in the numbest, coldest heart. I feel like I'm a completely different person from who I was before, knowing the grace that covers me. In the past year, I've been feeling a calling into ministry, and I plan on applying to a bible college in California. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone in this, I just want to give back to God what he gave me: my full life. If his plan is for me to minister, then I'll do it. If his plan is for me to do the art thing, I'll do that. The most important thing to me right now is to please God. Everything else is secondary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5290136427489849356?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5290136427489849356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5290136427489849356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5290136427489849356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5290136427489849356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/08/grave-robbers-keep-skeletons-in-their.html' title='Grave robbers keep the skeletons in their Closets'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-3243110127560313244</id><published>2009-07-13T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T19:16:55.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Holding on" video</title><content type='html'>This isn't gonna be my monthly post, but I thought it was worth sharing. This guy is really a poet, and his songs  and videos are incredible and have such great stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ee73bBj00SQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ee73bBj00SQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-3243110127560313244?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/3243110127560313244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=3243110127560313244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/3243110127560313244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/3243110127560313244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/07/holding-on-video.html' title='&quot;Holding on&quot; video'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-6447912305052950973</id><published>2009-06-06T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T16:32:52.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing.</title><content type='html'>These streets seem so different without your hand in mine.&lt;br /&gt;I remember walking with you, talking about nothing but at the same time sharing everything.&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember those days?&lt;br /&gt;The days we swore wouldn't end, but when the leaves left the trees we followed their lead and parted ways.&lt;br /&gt; Now the sun shines again, and the cold is forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;Are you coming back? Or are you planning on just forgetting what it was like?&lt;br /&gt;I can't get past the loss of that part of my soul you filled with just being here.&lt;br /&gt;Are you haunted by the ghost of my shadow and do you think you hear me call your name in a crowd?&lt;br /&gt;Have you just forgotten me completely?&lt;br /&gt;If you hear me, come back.&lt;br /&gt;If you miss me, come back.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-6447912305052950973?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/6447912305052950973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=6447912305052950973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6447912305052950973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6447912305052950973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/06/missing.html' title='Missing.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-6060074096072422745</id><published>2009-05-20T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T20:52:31.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh my god, you are beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Deep in my restlessness, I feel your stirring&lt;br /&gt;and my heart calls out, desperate and reaching "Holy, precious, worthy"&lt;br /&gt;That you could see past the dirt and the scratches and see something worth saving is beyond me, but I'm glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what I've done, no matter what sin has me entangled, you LOVE me. You forgive me and you want the best for me.&lt;br /&gt;ME, as low as I am, you still see me from the heights on which you stand.&lt;br /&gt;Make my mouth a captive to your praise, let me sing to you with  every note.&lt;br /&gt;My  every breath belongs to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-6060074096072422745?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/6060074096072422745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=6060074096072422745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6060074096072422745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6060074096072422745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/05/oh-my-god-you-are-beautiful.html' title=''/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-4553753873516517883</id><published>2009-04-21T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T22:07:57.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you go to war for me?</title><content type='html'>God! you know I'm trying, but this fight is so much bigger than me!&lt;br /&gt;Its like a possession, some demon wrenches control of my mind and my hands away from me.&lt;br /&gt;I know you are bigger than this, I know this disease can be killed by you.&lt;br /&gt;So Jesus, please help me. I've got to get past this but it refuses to  move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have got to sing.&lt;br /&gt;My vocal chords strain for the sounds, and I sputter syllables that are unrecognizable as words.&lt;br /&gt;My brain is a jumble of thoughts that I can't seem to organize into anything worthy of expressing.&lt;br /&gt;Everything I know is falling, everything in me is failing.&lt;br /&gt;God, I need a moment of revelation, give me a new life and fill me with your breath again.&lt;br /&gt;I can't handle all of this... any of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-4553753873516517883?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/4553753873516517883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=4553753873516517883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/4553753873516517883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/4553753873516517883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/04/would-you-go-to-war-for-me.html' title='Would you go to war for me?'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8641692247354879504</id><published>2009-04-11T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T20:18:11.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Awakened.</title><content type='html'>And suddenly your issues aren't so pretty.&lt;br /&gt;No, no. Don't get me wrong, I still love you.&lt;br /&gt;All the same, the realization scares me.&lt;br /&gt;The brokenness that drew me to you, I see now, isn't as attractive as I thought.&lt;br /&gt;The scars that cross your spirit inspire me to pity, and I see the fight you've had.&lt;br /&gt;The ever-constant battle to see the good, the scratches that cover your palms and knees from the falls that you've had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8641692247354879504?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8641692247354879504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8641692247354879504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8641692247354879504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8641692247354879504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-awakened.html' title='I&apos;ve Awakened.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5484789248449793204</id><published>2009-03-31T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T20:47:54.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Essay</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;“&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; 5&lt;/span&gt;It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs.&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; 6&lt;/span&gt;Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; 7&lt;/span&gt;It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”-1 Corinthians 13:4-7&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ince ancient times, people have recognized the importance of romantic love. We have stories and murals, plays and rituals all designated towards the honoring of romantic Eros love. There is, however, another form of love that has equally inspired humanity to create, Agape love. This love is unending and unconditional, and is usually associated with God. As a Christian, I have seen the power of this love. It is because of this background that I believe that it is impossible to have true romantic love without the love of God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;     &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;T&lt;/span&gt;he world we live in isn’t kind. Even in the times when we are the happiest, there is still a world outside, unavoidable and striving for nothing more than to tear apart a good attitude. When love has taken over, there is nothing more that we want than to protect it and keep it safe from harm. Romantic love has a serious flaw in that when we fall completely, we don’t even brace for the impact. This is where the problem ensues; with defenses down and the war still raging outside the protected bubble, stepping outside poses an immediate and extreme danger. Any problem that comes your way has the potential to become an atomic bomb. Agape love speaks through your conscience in these moments, giving little warnings. Whether we choose to heed them or not, they are there, telling us to be on the lookout for the problems on the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;s anyone who’s been in a relationship that failed probably knows, it is extremely hard to make things works if the views of one person involved differ from their significant other’s. This doesn’t only apply to religion, but differing views on things like pre-marital sex, drug use or even something as simple as politics can spell disaster. It’s hard to establish a common ground with someone who was brought up differently. For example: while one might think that premarital sex is fine and is natural in the progression of a relationship, the other might see it as something that should be preserved and saved for one person. Of course, both would want to find common ground, which results in a compromise. In most situations, compromise is good. But on things where moral values are involved, this usually means that one side gives in to the other. For a person to waver their convictions for their love is not the ideal situation. Agape love teaches those involved to respect the beliefs of the other and be selfless, thinking of the other before themselves. This works best when both involved agree to live this way, exercising not only their romantic love, but their self-less unconditional Agape love for each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;A&lt;/span&gt;gape love is unconditional. That means that whatever is done, whatever happens, agape love is not taken away. Anyone exercising agape love forgives and forgets. Romantic love is jealous, and when the trust that goes along with it is betrayed, there is rarely any going back to the way things were. Reconciliation and romantic love have a hard time meshing. Often, the one who is hurt refuses to forget or forgive. However, when agape love works with romantic love it is much easier for those involved to forgive and move on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ob Dylan once said “You can't be wise and in love at the same time.” Romantic love isn’t wise; it is crazy, unexplainable and exciting. Like anything fitting that description, it has its dangers. Not that it should be avoided, not in the least. What is necessary is for those involved to have a secondary love for each other that is wise and unconditional to counter the shortcomings of their passion. Agape love and romantic love are perfect complements, and to truly love someone, it is necessary to unconditionally care for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5484789248449793204?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5484789248449793204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5484789248449793204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5484789248449793204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5484789248449793204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/03/4-love-is-patient-love-is-kind.html' title='Love Essay'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-180765151605701233</id><published>2009-02-16T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T22:44:46.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Persistent and loving like Christ.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Today I got my first taste of what ministry is like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; I know I know, I'm 17 and I am not a certified minister/pastor/preacher/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;what-have-you, BUT as a daughter of Christ, gifted with the power of his spirit (like everyone who calls Jesus their savior) , I am a missionary and a warrior. Everyday I go out onto the mission field, a veritable battle field.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" face="trebuchet ms"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today was the first time I really saw what it is like to try to convince an unbelieving world of the truth of who God is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend. He's about the same age as me, in my classes, we hang out a lot around school and talk all the time over Instant Messenger. This morning, I wake up and turn on my computer and he starts Iming me. and out of nowhere he says he deleted me from his MySpace friends. When I asked him why, he responded that I was part of the system.( "PART OF THE SYSTEM MAAANN!!") and went on to clarify that by "System", he meant the church. No particular denomination, just the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some coaxing, he explained he had some deep-seated grudges against the church due to a camp him parents sent him to as a kid as a punishment. When he got tired of the camp he tried to get kicked out, and when he finally succeeded the pastor of the camp went all fire-and-brimstone on him and his friends and told them they were corrupted souls that needed to be cleansed. Thus, he established that all Christians and God hate everyone who doesn't put up with the crap this church put him through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to explain that God isn't into torture.&lt;br /&gt;No dice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried explaining that God's love is a choice.&lt;br /&gt;No dice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried telling him that not all Christians are terrible people who want nothing more than to make you feel like crap.&lt;br /&gt;STILL NOTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of this whole thing, I felt like blocking him and cutting him out entirely. But then, i was smacked over the head with this " enduring love" thing. In spite of everything we do, in spite of the way we close our ears to it, it still remains that Jesus loves us and died for us and he is still gonna knock at the door. He doesn't stop loving us, He doesn't stop trying to win us over. So why should I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-180765151605701233?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/180765151605701233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=180765151605701233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/180765151605701233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/180765151605701233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/02/being-persistent-and-loving-like-christ.html' title='Being Persistent and loving like Christ.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2404219744210370479</id><published>2009-01-23T07:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T08:39:01.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cancer of the Imagination</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Spreading, engulfing my thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Metastasized to every organ, this thing is a part of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A disease without a cure, an addiction with no 12-step program,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A joyous imprisonment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Love and hatred, peace and lunacy, from the depths or pain to the heights of happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uncontrollable and amazing, This is my affliction and my vaccination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is no drug that can give me immunity to it's hold, there is no pain it cannot deter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My mind runs circles daily, as it stretches its fingers and takes my attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And though the world tries to force me into chemo, I won't do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have cancer of the imagination, and I can't thank God enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-2404219744210370479?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2404219744210370479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2404219744210370479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2404219744210370479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2404219744210370479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/01/cancer-of-imagination_23.html' title='Cancer of the Imagination'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-2508503161272564932</id><published>2009-01-07T13:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T13:19:50.432-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty Box Debate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="note_content clearfix"&gt; &lt;div&gt;So a while back, I posted a question to my honesty box (an anonymous app here on facebook. because I honestly was just wondering what kind of responses I would get. So far I have only gotten one responder, but she has responded a few times. I don't know who she is, but she seems to know everything about me and what I believe and why I believe it. That being said, I thought that in my efforts to "condemn" her for "not following my lifestyle" &lt;small&gt;(note the quotes, denoting sarcasm. My real reason is to defend myself if whoever-this-is ever decides she's going to make this a real life issue)&lt;/small&gt;, I thought I would post this. Have fun reading, guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; MY QUESTION:&lt;/b&gt;Have you ever looked at porn? Do you regret it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;HER REPLY:&lt;/b&gt;Why would you ask this question? Have you looked at porn recently and regret it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MY REPLY:&lt;/b&gt;I would ask this question because I honestly care for the people that have looked at porn and regret it. I've seen what it can do to people. People say it is harmless but it is like a grenade. Not only can it hurt you, it can hurt people around you.&lt;br /&gt;Not true all the time, but in a lot of cases it is.&lt;br /&gt;And No. I haven't looked at porn recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't take it personally. Its not like I am asking you to tell me who you are, and I would never condemn someone for it who isn't hurting me. I'm just trying to see if anyone would admit to it in total anonymity. I'm surprised I got such a hostile response from a girl even anonymously...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;HER REPLY:&lt;/b&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;So you haven't looked a porn recently, but have you ever looked at porn???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think you do condemn people. I think you're very judgemental of other people if they dont' follow your lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I definately dont' understand the girl comment. Am I not supposed to take offense to judgments because i'm a girl? seriously. that's ridiculous, espcially coming from a fellow girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MY REPLY&lt;/b&gt;In response to the offense thing, No I don't think you aren't supposed to take offense. The thing is that Porn-in terms of the way it is in our culture- is thought of as more of a guy thing. and for a girl to respond in a defensive way is surprising to me. Women don't tend to be as open as guys about it, whether defending their viewing of it or expressing shame for viewing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its pretty rude of you to ask me to admit this kind of thing when you know who I am. You at least have the anonymity to protect you from being judged, so even if I DID "condemn" you for looking at porn or whatever, that would never pass over into real life. YOU however could either pass judgement on me (because you know who I am) and call me either a "prude" for not looking at it, or a "hypocritical pervert" if I did, because you seem to think I hate people who have. And you couldn't be more wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do YOU know about my life? what do you know about my "lifestyle"?&lt;br /&gt;You have no clue why I am the way I am, what II really believe, and why I believe the way I believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;HER REPLY:&lt;/b&gt;I think you're a stuck up little christian girl who pretends to act like a badass and a punk little emo chick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You believe in 'God' because of how you've been raised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MY REPLY&lt;/b&gt;Millions of kids were raised the same way and don't believe in God. And millions of people believe in God, but weren't raised that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in what way am I stuck up? Have I ever acted stuck up to you in real life? And as far as the badass comment and the punk little emo chick thing, I think I've heard that before. and frankly I don't care. You can call me a punk emo kid all day. You've never said it to my face, and therefore I can say that you pretend to act like you aren't afraid to say whatever about people. But in reality, you are too scared of what people will think of you. If you weren't you would've messaged me that last comment instead of commenting here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt; __________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;__________________&lt;br /&gt;Well there you have it, Gentleladies and Gentlemen. Yes, I did get a little angry. But wouldn't you? Maybe not so passionately about the same thing, but about whatever you believe strongly about. Its a little aggravating for this person to make judgments about me when she has no clue what has happened in my life to make me think what I think. For the record, no matter what this girl says, I DO NOT judge people who have looked at porn unless it has an effect on me. None of you guys or girls have that much sway over me, so don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you don't have anything nice to say, its probably best to not say anything.&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/6948795217787442754-2508503161272564932?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/2508503161272564932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=2508503161272564932' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2508503161272564932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/2508503161272564932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/01/honesty-box-debate.html' title='Honesty Box Debate'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-1791489003727237806</id><published>2009-01-03T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T07:53:25.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New year for new beginnings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I can't say I'm sad to see 2008 gone. A lot of good things happened last year, but a lot of bad things happened as well. I want this year to be different. I want to be different this year.&lt;br /&gt;I want to love more and burst out in anger less.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be less negative.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I want to be a daughter my parents can be proud of.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be less critical of myself and others.&lt;br /&gt;I want to spend less time hiding away from the people I love because I can't stand the way they are acting (read:how I am interpreting the way they act).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I want to be the woman of God my name suggests I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/6948795217787442754-1791489003727237806?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/1791489003727237806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=1791489003727237806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/1791489003727237806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/1791489003727237806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-for-new-beginnings.html' title='New year for new beginnings.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-9089689701920046470</id><published>2008-12-13T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T21:57:36.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God is With Us.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lets  take on the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and see what it throws back at us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Throw caution to the wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;forget all our sins and live!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;God has picked us out and given us this mission&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;lets take the task and run with it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;THIS IS LIFE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Living full out arms out,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; flying falling into the sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;THIS IS LIFE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Giving up our selfish whims&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and giving in to truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;this is life!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;THIS IS LIFE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lets Take up arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and face the armies against us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We can do this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Emmanuel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-9089689701920046470?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/9089689701920046470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=9089689701920046470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/9089689701920046470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/9089689701920046470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/12/god-is-with-us.html' title='God is With Us.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-5396072282353057248</id><published>2008-11-28T22:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T22:50:16.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good God, You still get us home!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="en-NIV-28879" class="sup"&gt;"17&lt;/span&gt;Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" 2 Corinthians 5:17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex/Best friend came to Christ today!  This is the verse that came to mind for him. He's saying things I'd never imagine him saying.&lt;br /&gt;I could never have seen this coming, but thats the way God works. He loves to smack us in the face with the most wonderful surprising things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, did this smack me hard! I  was bawling and shaking, now I am smiling my head off. Sometimes God does Christmas early :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-5396072282353057248?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/5396072282353057248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=5396072282353057248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5396072282353057248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/5396072282353057248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/11/good-god-you-still-get-us-home.html' title='Good God, You still get us home!'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-7370162781400746808</id><published>2008-11-18T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T14:32:17.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He tripped on Triple X's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is dedicated to the guys I love, and to XXXchurch.  It hurts to be on the other side of the porn thing, not the girl in the porn, but the one who has to watch you get sucked in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Trembling hands with trembling fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Reaching up, her arms outspread &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh god please help me. my god! please help me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Silent prayers in her head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Muscles tighten, teeth clench to keep the screams inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;From the pain, the hurt, not just her own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Running, wondering where to hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;From the monster in her home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Invisible to the naked eye,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Computer screens let it inside,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Only the careful see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The poison monster as it creeps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The death to spirit, blood and bone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Silently invades the home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's nothing that the girl can do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;To kill the death that's captured you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-7370162781400746808?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/7370162781400746808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=7370162781400746808' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7370162781400746808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/7370162781400746808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/11/he-tripped-on-triple-xs.html' title='He tripped on Triple X&apos;s'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-543288071622439410</id><published>2008-11-13T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:25:45.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daybreak.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I will trust you oh god, to direct my path.&lt;br /&gt;I will follow you oh god, no matter what the cost.&lt;br /&gt;I will give myself over to you Oh My god,because as high as the skies are over the earth,  so are your ways higher than mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the cries of my heart, Father!&lt;br /&gt;Hear me sing your praises!&lt;br /&gt;Because even in my trouble YOU are there!&lt;br /&gt;Even in my sickness, YOU are there!&lt;br /&gt;You are holy, God.&lt;br /&gt;I am lowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will decrease so you can increase!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father, savior, redeemer, provider!&lt;br /&gt;You are.&lt;br /&gt;Lowly, Shameful and broken!&lt;br /&gt;I am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change me to be the person you've called me to be.&lt;br /&gt;May the word of my lips and the thoughts of my mind be subject to your will.&lt;br /&gt;If I go against what you would have me do, draw me back and I will come.&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god, I am yours.&lt;br /&gt;Here in this moment, I am yours.&lt;br /&gt;From this day on, Jesus, I am yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-543288071622439410?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/543288071622439410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=543288071622439410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/543288071622439410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/543288071622439410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/11/daybreak.html' title='Daybreak.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-929847053915231086</id><published>2008-11-10T16:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T17:17:16.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;WHY AM I NEVER THE ONE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;why am I always second choice, second best?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;the one NO ONE WANTS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Am I so repulsive, that no one looks at me and sees someone worth loving?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Am I so odd, that  I'm meant to be alone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Am I such a loser, that I can't win for losing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-929847053915231086?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/929847053915231086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=929847053915231086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/929847053915231086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/929847053915231086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/11/never.html' title='Never.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8197199284729184628</id><published>2008-11-10T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T17:16:54.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am Sick, and I'm broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hopes up, smashed down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hit the ground and flew to pieces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;-with a strange intensity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Its not that I'm in love with you, I just liked you a whole flippen lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You're still awesome, anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8197199284729184628?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8197199284729184628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8197199284729184628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8197199284729184628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8197199284729184628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/11/strange.html' title='Strange...'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-6531207623441378366</id><published>2008-10-28T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T19:13:22.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Get Out Alive.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It doesn't take much for me to find some inspiration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was just standing in the kitchen doing dishes and a quote came to me... its from my favorite artist, Eric Timm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Roughly paraphrased (because I have a crappy memory) he said " Don't confuse God with Man's shortcomings."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It seems like not matter how hard we try, those of us who are christians are always stuffed into the box of " Well, this is what one christian did to me so you are all that way". And being as young as I am, I have to deal with that a lot. I have been expected to defend my faith against onslaughts from teachers, the usual teasing and such from classmates. Things like that make me feel so young in my faith (which I am, I'm just a baby. I walked for a while, but then I fell, crawled and now I am back to taking my first wobbly steps on my new feet). I am expected to make amends for things I haven't done and can not make up for. And anyone who knows me knows that when I get put on the spot, I lose my guts and end up flustered and not saying what I want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The one thing that people need to realize about christians is that we are still human. We can try all we want to put up the front of being perfect, having it all together and having all the answers. But the real deal is that NONE OF US, not a single christian living today has it all together. We are a broken people. Thats the plain and simple truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The thing with having a relationship with Christ ( I don't use the term Christianity. it is impersonal.) is that by accepting Him, you are accepting that you are broken, needy and wanting. You accept that you have faults and you fall, and then God helps you get through it. Getting through stuff, THAT is real life. Without God, its very hard to come by.  You can't blame your problems (or other people's problems with you) on God, but you CAN find relief and forgiveness from current problems or past mistakes in Him. My point: GOD IS NOT A "GET OUT OF JAIL FREE" CARD. He IS however the key to getting out whole and alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-6531207623441378366?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/6531207623441378366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=6531207623441378366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6531207623441378366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/6531207623441378366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-get-out-alive.html' title='To Get Out Alive.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-1328138097995812838</id><published>2008-10-28T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T19:12:31.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragility</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm so fragile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;one touch and I fall to pieces,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One mis-step and I snap in two.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Its hard for me to admit it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am susceptible to so many things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One of these things that gets me is embarrassment and the anger that results from it. Its something I can't quite control, the way I let things get to me. Today this kid in a class I'm in pointed out in a rude way that my pants were slipping in the back and called it and me "disgusting"( it WAS only my back. and I doubt he saw much of that even...) and then went on a war path to completely tick me off (That was what he was doing, hes like that). I went off on him for it, but apparently I handled it well and didn't get myself in trouble. The teacher herself told me I handled it so well she didn't need to intervene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today was his lucky day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Usually, I fly off the handle and  yell and scream ( and occasionally throw things,if I am angry enough.haha, just kidding guys!&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;mostly...&lt;/span&gt;) But this one time, with this one intentionally aggravating guy, I didn't and I don't understand it. I don't even TALK to this guy, why should I show HIM, of all people, mercy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand myself sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-1328138097995812838?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/1328138097995812838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=1328138097995812838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/1328138097995812838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/1328138097995812838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/09/fragility.html' title='Fragility'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8651316608262574338</id><published>2008-09-29T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T19:27:48.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Battle of I AM and who I am.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am liar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am a hypocrite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am my own pet cause.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am a living contradiction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am a punk in prep's clothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a captive to my addictions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am a fighter, rather than a lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am plagued by bad decisions and missed goals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am one who strives for perfection, but falls short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Therefore I live and breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the one who releases you from your captivity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could I be free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am your solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;That's possible?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am the one who loves you more than you can fathom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What could I do to deserve this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am your warrior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My fighting is over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am your truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My lies are dead and gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am your perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This brokenness is how I am made whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am your protector.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm safe here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the one who conquered hell for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is what true life is like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM YOUR GOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am so in love with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8651316608262574338?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8651316608262574338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8651316608262574338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8651316608262574338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8651316608262574338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/09/battle-of-i-am-and-who-i-am.html' title='The Battle of I AM and who I am.'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8633899422291228240</id><published>2008-09-01T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T21:17:36.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Inspired by reading replies to a " To Write Love On Her Arms" bulletein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Is this solace?&lt;br /&gt;Is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; peace?&lt;br /&gt;In this space between the open sides of this cut, this gash dug by some inhuman creature... Is peace there?&lt;br /&gt;Is this relief?&lt;br /&gt;Is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; what escape is supposed to feel like?&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know anymore. Its been so long since I felt I could forget my pain, my struggles, without carving a mark into my skin.&lt;br /&gt;This blade was supposed to be my glue, supposed to be my needle and thread to sew the shell of myself back into something that resembles a human being.&lt;br /&gt;It was supposed to fill in the holes that I couldn't dig myself out of.&lt;br /&gt;It hasn't killed me, so if its like everyone says, shouldn't I be stronger?&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I  &lt;/span&gt;be the one in control, instead of the blade?&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't I be happier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulty glue, frayed thread, broken needle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm still so broken...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8633899422291228240?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8633899422291228240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8633899422291228240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8633899422291228240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8633899422291228240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/09/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948795217787442754.post-8250868978663067880</id><published>2008-08-31T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T01:18:19.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About this blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey people,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;      My name is Gabrielle (or Gabi) and If you're here, you've most likely been linked here from my Myspace, Facebook, or my art site over at Deviantart.com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am new to the whole blogging thing, so bear with me if I don't post a ton. Odds are, I won't have many readers, but I'll apologize in advance anyway XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This will mainly be my place to post my poetry, maybe works-in-progresses of my art. If I ever get the urge to write something or need a place to throw a link or a video, this will be the place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;About the Title of the blog,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was stumped about what to title it, so I looked at the lyrics of the song I originally took my name from (supersonic by Family Force 5) but didn't really find anything. Then I went and looked up the meaning of "supersonic"  which is when something goes faster than the speed of sound (mach 1) and thus, the title.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; If you listen to the Family Force 5 song, You might get why I picked it. Its just such a fun song... There is no deep reasoning for the title XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but anyway,I'm gonna try to post something good here this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948795217787442754-8250868978663067880?l=mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/feeds/8250868978663067880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6948795217787442754&amp;postID=8250868978663067880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8250868978663067880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948795217787442754/posts/default/8250868978663067880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mach1wasnothing.blogspot.com/2008/08/about-this-blog.html' title='About this blog'/><author><name>supersonic-gabi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10843878680969005272</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fo50YNDISrQ/SLt1jRFGp9I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yXNeFlmq2Ok/S220/IMG_2606.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
